Sunday morning in the late 70's. I had an apartment on a par 3. About 110yds off the tee of 170yd hole. I worked 90 hrs /week. Sunday mornings were , a doobie, a cup of coffee and the high school sprts page.
I'm sitting on the patio and hear "Fore!!!". I look up and this horrible banana ball is heading right my way . Knew it was going to be short. Banged around on the patio below. When I looked over the rail, it popped over the retaining wall back on the course. He had some tree trouble, but it was playable.
I just looked at the tee box, gave a thumbs up and went back to the paper.