Slim Randles

It’s fall and time once again for the Chipper Invitational Golf Tournament here in the valley. You remember Chipper, Doc’s imaginary squirrel? The one who was imaginarily squirrel-napped?

Doc named the annual golf tournament after good ol’ Chipper. The tournament is used to raise money for coats for kids who need them. And it’s only fit and proper it be named for Chipper, since the golf tournament itself is just about as genuine as the squirrel.

There isn’t a real golf course here in the valley, you know. You have to go to the city for that. So Doc decided to just wander around with a shovel, digging holes here and there and putting flags next to them. The flags, in civilian life, sure look a lot like metal t-posts.

Another thing that makes Doc’s tournament unique is that there is absolutely no way to practice for it. That’s because the “golf course” is usually laid out a day ahead of time each year, and every fall, Doc picks another spot for it.

The holes are different, the fairways are non-existent, and the hazards … oh, the hazards. After the first tournament, when one of Harold Brewster’s cows got hit in the butt, there are no longer any four-legged ambulatory golf hazards. Farmers are allowed to move them, happily, into bomb shelters or corrals for the duration of the madness.

But have you ever tried to hit a golf ball that parked itself beneath an old, rusty hay baler? Such things make the course … challenging? Yes, and fun.

This year, Doc’s theme was what he called trans-oceanic. This means, in valley talk, having the tee-boxes on one side of Lewis Creek and the holes on the other. It will be interesting to see how many errant golf balls hit the tire swing at the swimming hole and vanish forever into the depths.

Chipper would approve, I’m sure.

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Children’s gift idea: signed copy of “Ol’ Jimmy Dollar,” by Slim Randles. LPDPress.com.