Lefty Johansen Queen - A Night At The Opera When I was a kid the game of golf was generally out of reach for me. Not that I couldn't golf if I wanted to, there were clubs lying all over the house because my Dad enjoyed the game. It was that typical Canadian problem. I write, throw, punch and vomit right-handed but I play hockey and golf left handed. Not too long ago left-handed golfers were forced to golf right handed. I tried but it just felt so awkward I said "forget it!" At the age of 12 my friend and I went into his garage and I noticed a rather odd looking set of golf clubs. I pulled one out of the bag and shouted with joy. "These are left handed". Richard looked at me as if I were an idiot (I still might be) and gave me an all knowing "yeah?" "My Dad and I both swing the club left handed" he said. Well with little to no smooth talking and absolutely no permission from his parents we went into the park armed with driver, three wood, tees and a ball each. The park was one of those little residential parks about 85 yards square, surrounded by houses and trees. In the park there was a slide, some swings and an open area we used as a baseball diamond. Richard's house backed onto this little park. His Dad had built a ladder that straddled the fence so we could hop back and forth year round. That afternoon we hopped the fence and walked to the back of the park. I remember feeling rather excited that I was about to step into a golf ball with every bit of energy I had and not have the "girl throwing a baseball feeling". The odd thing was that I don't recall being concerned about driving the ball over the houses and into traffic on the street beyond or just driving the ball straight through someone's window. I think I somehow imagined the ball behaving much like a hockey puck in its flight. So there we were all teed up. I recall another friend, Brent being present. I think he was really right handed but he was giving one of the irons a shot. Richard was the first to hit. He had the driver and he did not really make solid contact. Regardless I recall thinking, "wow these things really go!" Richard started off to retrieve his shot and I took a couple of warm up swings. For fun I gave the traditional "fore" shout and let it rip. The ball left the club's face and it felt good. I really didn't know what to expect I just loved the fact that I was hitting a golf ball and not feeling like a chick! It went sizzling out at about 4 feet off the ground. Unfortunately (or fortunately) when I said fore I a cause Richard to turn around and face us. Just as he turned my ball deflected off his head somewhere around the eyebrow. I freaked out but he wasn't saying anything. Then all of a sudden blood started to spew from the cut. I told him to scream and run to his house. I ran behind him wondering how the hell he was even running. The ball hit him so hard I would have expected him to have passed out. When we got to his house his Mom greeted us with the standard motherly, terrified reaction. Richard was starting to show signs that he was indeed a little more than just cut. I explained what had happened and they were off to the hospital. I remember feeling really worried about what my folks would say about me killing Richard. It took me several hours after supper to work up the guts to explain my miserable afternoon. Finally my Mom asked me what was wrong and I sat both my parents down and spilled my guts. I was beyond worried. My Mom was very helpful in that she listed the many terrible symptoms that can derive from a severe blow to the head. I had already called Richard's house several times for an update and there was no answer. I thought that surely if he were dead the cops would have come by, The next morning we received a call from Richard's Mom saying he was stable but it was a rough night. As things turned out he was in the hospital for several days. I don't think I have ever had a more intense feeling of "I wish had not done that". Richard and I grew up and went our separate ways and about six months ago we got together for lunch. Funny it was decades ago and he won't join me for a round of golf?