If I only had a disc gator just two short months ago…
My wife and I are relatively new to the sport, having played our first round in November, 2013. Needless to say, we were quickly addicted. Our home course is
Jenkins Park in Baytown, TX. There on hole #5 is a drive across a deep channel with nasty, murky water. The first few times I did that hole, I used a floating Dragon but as my confidence grew, I decided that I could throw my favorite disc, a blue/green Archangel. First mistake.
It landed in the water about four feet away from the bank. After working our way down to the water's edge, I saw that I would need a stick or something to aid in the retrieval. I didn't really want to climb back up the bank and back down again so I got the bright idea to use my wife as a pole. Second mistake.
I assured my wife that she would be fine and I held onto her hand as she leaned out across the mossy water. Lower and lower I guided her until she was just about nose to water. She reached out and grabbed my disc. At this point, I realized that lowering her was a lot easier than bringing her back up again. I tried adjusting my foot for leverage. Third mistake.
Panic struck me as the rock under my foot shifted. In slow motion I saw my wife's hand slip from my own, her face plant into that stagnant, snaky water and then her body completely submerge. In a sudden return to normal speed, she came up out of that water like Poseidon rising from the depths. Her wet hair framed a scowl that would send any creature running for safety. My disc in her hand was like a scepter ready to blast me into oblivion. I quickly helped her up the steep, muddy embankment as I awaited my sentence. "I'm sorry baby. The rock slipped…"
"I don't want to hear it!" She shouted. Game over. Three days later she was finally speaking to me again, although she hasn't played disc golf with me for a month. Oh, if I only had that disc gator.