Beware The Dog House!

With one week to go before Christmas, it's time to get your game faces on and head to the mall for those last-minute gifts for your wife, girlfriend, or both. While nothing says "Merry Christmas!" quite like a new driver or a 60-degree wedge, Gil Hollander warns that there are severe consequences for those choosing badly, and recommends visiting your nearest Zales location for some pre-gift counseling.

Be advised, some may find the following video disturbing....

Come And Get It!

The culinary arts can be mystical ones, indeed, with chefs and gourmands forever experimenting with new forms of cuisine designed to appeal to varied and often finicky palates. LCCC is no exception, where Chef Nicole Slaw travels to the far corners of the earth (aka, the Tom Thumb in Irving) to create a menu that is tasty, innovative and, as of late, a bit provocative.

"Out go the lights...."

Upon learning the news that our own Mr. Tee had failed his recent Mattress Dancing Stress Test, and fearing that the unexpected ineffectiveness of his pre-MDST training for Tee might damage his reputation as "The White Wilt Chamberlain", Tim Unverzagt reached out to Chef Slaw with a new idea for helping Tee get a little lead back in the old pencil, while also adding some pizazz to the menu in the 19th Hole.

"Look, just because I get to look at porn at work doesn't mean everybody can," offered Unverzagt. "However, I find that there are many ways one can obtain stimulation in the work place, sometimes without anyone else even knowing about it. That's when I got the idea to talk with Chef about adding pornbread to the menu."



"Hmmm? Hmmm?"

By applying a creative twist to some 19th Hole favorites, Chef Slaw is pleased to announce the addition of two new items, Funbag Popovers (modeled at left by Chris Weinzirl) and Mama's Johnsonberry Muffins (below right), which Unverzagt believes can help Tee subliminally focus on how to take care of business at night even while he's on the job each day.

"Oh my," gasped Unverzagt softly as he caressed a pair of fresh, buttered popovers, using his other hand to discretely adjust the front of his trousers. "If ogling these muffins all day can help Tee get his motor running again, who the hell cares how they taste? All I know is that if I spend any more time alone with these babies, I'm going to need a cigarette."

Finally, Chef Slaw reports that the hot Johnsonberry Muffins have also become quite a popular staple in the Ladies' Locker Room. "The WGA is going to put them on the menu at the awards banquet for their fall Member-Member, if you'll pardon the oxymoron. I'm doing my best to keep up with the demand."

When The Time Is Right, He'll Be Ready



"Goo One!"

For those of you who've yet to see it with your own eyes, The Hosel Rocket is pleased to confirm that our very own Mr. Tee is back on the scene at LCCC after successfully completing convalescence from his recent heart attack and surgery.

Not only has the affable fixture of our 19th Hole not lost a step, he seems to have gained a few, and has been observed zipping around the 19th Hole at a rate that would put The Roadrunner to shame. Tee reports that he's feeling great, getting stronger every day, and has only one remaining post-operative milestone to clear, his MDST (mattress dancing stress test).

According to Tee, his MDST is scheduled for August 20, where he promises there will plenty of "boom, boom boom!" in store for Mrs. Tee. Leaving nothing to chance as the big day approaches, Tee has retained the services of Tim Unverzagt (aka, "The White Wilt Chamberlain") to help him get ready to ace his MDST.

"As it's unusual for me to go more than 20 minutes without sex, imagine how this little guy feels having to wait 20 days," said the legendary Las Colinas lothario, who also serves as professor emeritus at the Austin Powers School of Swordsmanship in London.

While Unverzagt wouldn't reveal his training methods ("A good magician never reveals his secrets. Just ask that guy who says he's the best putter in our club, then watch him putt..."), he's assured Tee that come August 20th, there will be plenty of lead in his #2 pencil.

"When I'm through with him, he'll be ready to lay enough pipe to replace our entire golf course irrigation system. And, if I was Mrs. Tee, I might consider investing in good a neck brace, or perhaps a softer headboard."

Ever appreciative for the various collections taken up by our members that provided financial assistance to his family during his time out of work, Tee reports that he's gradually easing back to full-time status in the 19th Hole.  When not at work, he can be found on his new yacht on Lake Grapevine, where Unverzagt (accompanied by a crew of Hooters girls and several Barry White CD's) is conducting his pre-August 20 training sessions.

"BAMBI! MORE OYSTERS! WE NEED MORE OYSTERS!!"

Swizzle Stick

Less than a week after his collapse at the 2012 Open Championship, where he bogied the last four holes to hand the tournament to Ernie Els, Adam Scott sat down with The Hosel Rocket to discuss the real story of what went wrong on Sunday at Royal Lytham & St. Anne's.

"What can I say, mate? It was the bloody flat stick that let me down," said the young Aussie. "My trusty Scotty Cameron long putter was stolen from my bag after Round 3. While I thought I was able to find an identical replacement from an on-line website, it turned out to be anything but identical."



The website in question, T-Bay, is run out of the locker of LCCC member Tom Francis, long recognized by himself as the Best Putter in Las Colinas Country Club (BPILCCC). Upon receiving the on-line inquiry last Saturday afternoon from Scott's agent, Francis spent hours prowling the aisles of his locker for a putter that would match Scott's stolen Scotty Cameron BIG SUR Long model.

Sure enough, after sorting through several hundred putters in his personal inventory, Francis was successful in finding an identical Cameron putter that had recently been returned on consignment from Preston Oliver, who'd apparently been using the club to stir barrels of grain alcohol punch at a series of parties near the campus of TCU.

Upon returning the putter, a contrite Mr. Oliver disclosed that the shaft of the club had been bent when it was accidentally slammed in a car door, which occurred during a pre-dawn getaway from the Chi Omega sorority house one recent morning.

As a result, the consigned Cameron now sported a three-degree closed face. Upon receiving Scott's order, Francis opted not to correct the altered club, feeling that the closed face might actually help his new client overcome a tendency to push his putts right of the hole, especially under pressure.

Depsite what he thought was a distinct odor of alcohol coming from the grips of the putter, Francis nevertheless deemed the club ready for shipment. After penning a short motivational note ("Dear Adam: Keep that head still! Yours in Golf, Tommy Awesome"), Francis boxed up the putter and sent it COD to Scott's hotel, where it arrived early on the morning of the final round. In light of Scott's stunning collapse on the inward four holes, Francis now wishes he'd gone full disclosure on the altered condition of the club.

"Hey, the guy is playing for the oldest trophy in all of golf, and he's going to have to make all sorts of putts that would normally be gimme's for me. Those four-footers can be tough, and I didn't think he needed to have all that extra information running around in his head that might cause him to lose focus. In hindsight, I guess I probably should have told him what Preston had done to the putter, or at least removed the fruit from the grip."

In the most stunning postscript to a major championship since it was learned that Tiger Woods spent the hours before his final round collapse in the 2009 PGA Championship cavorting with three IHOP waitresses at a Holiday Inn Express in Chaska, MN, a sullen Scott explained how it all slipped away from him during that final round at Royal Lytham & St. Anne's.

"Just before I teed off, I detected a strong odor of alcohol from my golf bag,  but thought it was just Stevie burning off a hangover," offered Scott in reference to his caddy, Steve Williams. "I missed my putt on #1 for a bogey, and thought nothing of it, as I still had a four-shot lead."

"However, as the round went on, I guess the alcohol vapors began to make me a little unsteady, and I kept missing every putt left. By the time we got to #15, I was doing everything I could to stay steady over the ball, but obviously it didn't work."

"It wasn't until I'd completed my round that Stevie noticed that the shaft of the T-Bay putter was bent, and that there was also a lime wedge and a tiny bamboo umbrella sticking out of the top of the grip. It may have affected my stroke a bit."

The problem with his equipment discovered too late, and the coveted claret jug having slipped from his grasp, a disconsolate Scott could only offer a solemn caveat emptor to those golfers considering a purchase from T-Bay. 

"Best putter in his club? If so, I'd suspect his fellow members all have Tourettes Syndrome, " lamented Scott.

As for Francis, the erstwhile entrepreneur could only shrug his shoulders and say "All sales are final. But I've got a whole aisle full of belly putters that I'd gladly sell to him on trade."

The Next Best Thing to Awesome!

TRUMBULL, CT - Fresh off last week's stunning victory at The Olympic Club, 2012 U.S. Open winner Webb Simpson took time off during this week's Traveler's Championship to announce that he's signed a lucrative endorsement deal with a heretofore unknown golf apparel company based in Texas.

"You win the US Open, and it's amazing the things that start to come your way," offered a humble Simpson. "Though the call from President Obama was nice, as was the offer to appear on Letterman, when I received that collect call from Carrollton, it was like my whole life had changed."

In an exclusive interview obtained by Hosel Rocket roving reporter, Bill Crowley, Simpson confirmed that he's signed a five-year deal to become the face of Under Awesome, an innovative new line of performance golf apparel developed by Tom Francis. "People kept telling me how awesome I was last week, and it just kind of made sense," mused the new Open champion.

"I thought to myself, why saddle up with those poseurs at Puma like Ricky Fowler did, or like Matt Miller with Travis Mathew when I can wear the real thing? Plus, Tom threw in some neat refrigerator magnets from his investment management firm, and that more or less sealed the deal for me. I feel awesome already, and I haven't even put the stuff on!"

Since today's announcement, the buzz from from the golf world has been incessant, with Golf Channel's Kelly Tillman, golf personality David Feherty, and the omnipresent Jim Nance all working feverishly to obtain an interview from the budding Texas clothing magnet. In a modest effort to deflect attention away from himself and toward his new client, Francis would only offer the following comments to THR.

"They don't call me Tommy Awesome for just any reason, and I thought that my own clothing line made perfect sense for the way I play the game. Like I told my new buddy, Webb, if you can't be totally awesome like me, wearing Under Awesome is the next best thing."

Look for Under Awesome apparel in Wal-Mart, Costco, and finer truck stops everywhere.

The Spoonshank Redemption: A Play in Two Acts

Reprinted by polular demand...
At long last, it's time for the annual LCCC La Buena Bola member-guest golf tournament, where 72 two-man teams will be locked in mortal combat beginning on Wednesday afternoon. Though the tournament itself lasts but three days, the story lines generated each year at "The Bola" are passed on from barstool to barstool, and often from generation to generation. Here is one such story featuring my brother, Chris (a.k.a., The Spoon).

Act One: The Collapse
In June 2008, Spoon arrived in Dallas for his very first Buena Bola. He pronounced his game to be fit as a fiddle - long and straight with the driver, precise with his irons, and deadly around the greens. The Brothers Wenning were going to be the team to beat, he crowed, while chest-bumping me across the baggage claim area at DFW.

After an enjoyable practice round with Spoon and my son, we showered, changed, and repaired to the ballroom for tournament registration. As I prepared to fetch cocktails, Spoon informed me that in an effort to improve both his game and his liver, he'd recently sworn off his beloved Grey Goose vodka (aka, the "Devil Juice"). What he didn't inform me was that he'd apparently sworn off golf as well.

In stark contradiction to the game he described at DFW, Spoon proceeded to play like a man possessed. By demons. Over the next three days, he hooked, sliced, thinned, chunked, skulled, and bladed his ball all over the course, and could not have made a single putt if the cup had been the size of a laundry basket. Though we had a grand time as we always do when we play together, Team Wenning fell down the leader board faster than a greased manhole cover, leaving a trail of crumpled Bud Light cans, cigar butts, and conceded putts in our wake.

Though we finished last in our flight, we finished first in beers consumed. He begged me for a chance at redemption, promising me he would bring his game next time if I would only invite him back.

Act Two: The Redemption
Said invitation having been tendered, Spoon arrived at DFW for the 2009 Bola determined to atone for the train wreck of a performance the prior year. As a result of monsoon-like conditions that washed out Day 1 of the event, the format was shortened to a two-day, 36-hole best ball tournament.

To the relief of the tournament committee and the 64 teams of combatants, Friday dawned hot, clear, and bright. After consuming a heart-healthy breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, bacon, biscuits and gravy, and bacon, Spoon stepped to the #10 tee and proceeded to rip his drive directly down the center of the fairway - the #1 fairway. After dumping his third shot into a greenside bunker, he deftly bladed his bunker shot across the green into the opposite trap, and repeated the feat again in returning the ball to the original trap before pocketing the ball. Fortunately, his partner bailed him out with a nice sandy to save par.

On the next hole, the tough uphill par 3 11th, Spoon's handicap afforded him a stroke to work with as he vowed to get the team into red numbers. He stepped confidently up to the tee box, proclaiming a cut shot with a hybrid to be the ideal play to the sloped, heavily bunkered green. Indeed, it would have been the perfect shot, if only Joe Finger (the course architect) had opted to place the green in the cul-de-sac of the adjacent neighborhood, which is where Spoon's ball landed, knocking a child off her bicycle, hitting a Verizon FIOS technician in the groin, and leaving a small dent in a Honda Civic. Out of the hole again, his older brother picked up the team again with a nice up-and-down out of the rough to save par. At that point, Spoon discovered two things:

1. An endless supply of Bud Light.
2. His golf swing.

With the former acting as some form of magical swing lubricant, and the latter returning to a state of technical perfection not seen since the 1981 St. Mark's Club Championship, Spoon picked up both his game and his partner, allowing Team Wenning to finish the first round at a net 65, good enough for 2nd place in our flight. In an effort to be razor sharp for the final round, the team decided to make it an early night, imposing a curfew while opting for a light dinner of red wine, Bud Light, onion rings, BBQ pork sandwiches, and vanilla ice cream. Vowing to get a good night's sleep, Spoon was true to his word, passing out on the couch at 10:00 PM.

Spoon had his game face on the next day, and arrived at the course with steady nerves, a steely resolve, and a case of the runs (brought about by the onion rings). After a harrowing trip to the men's room and another heart-healthy breakfast (during which time I reminded him that gravy was not a beverage), we headed to the first tee on a hot, humid day. Alas, our first five holes appeared to be an unfortunate reprise of last year's final round, where we folded like a cheap beach chair under Charles Barkley. Starting off on #10, Spoon was either in the water or OB on four out of the first five holes, while my game steadily sunk to the level of my playing partner. We made the turn at +2, four shots worse than the previous day, knowing that we would need to go low on the last nine holes to have any chance of winning our flight.

After a tepid bogey on #1, the team gradually caught fire, with my birdie on #4 getting us back to E/+2, a net birdie for me on #5 to get us to -1/+1, Spoon's birdie on #7 getting us to -2/E, and a net birdie for me on #8 getting us to -3/-1. As we stepped to the tee on the 9th and final hole of the tournament, both of us getting a stroke, we knew we had to make par/net birdie to have any chance of finishing in the money for our flight.

After finding the fairway with our drives, my approach shot came to rest 15 feet left of the flag, while Spoon's came up short on the right front edge of the green some 50 feet from the cup. Telling him to lag it close for par so I could take a run at birdie, Spoon did one better. He holed it for a birdie/net eagle, a putt that might have been slightly tougher than the one Happy Gilmore sank to defeat Shooter McGavin to win the Gold Jacket. Tending the pin, I watched in delight as the ball dove into the cup with such force that it swirled around the bottom of the jar like a turd going down a toilet. The jubilation that ensued was no less unbridled than when Justin Leonard sunk his snake at The Country Club to win the Ryder Cup for the USA in 1999.

We repaired to the 19th hole where the Goose finally came out, accompanied by some nice Ruby Red grapefruit juice. As we savored our cocktails, our back-nine charge, and Spoon's historic putt, we waited in air conditioned comfort for the first-round leaders to come into the clubhouse, while Spoon accommodated numerous interview requests from the club staff, our fellow combatants, and Jim Nance. As it turned out, the leaders (the Brothers Montgomery), had gone high for the day, leaving both teams in a dead heat for first place in our flight at a combined 133.

Per tournament rules, a scorecard playoff system was invoked to break the tie, and my par on the #1 handicap hole (#5) proved to be the difference. We were declared the champions of our flight, finishing second overall in the field of 64. My brother bellowed in joy at having redeemed himself, nearly breaking Mr. Tee's wrist with a wicked high-five. With visions of dollars dancing in my head, I proceeded to dance on a chair in celebration, feeling that the table was a bit too unsteady for such a jig given the effects of heat, sun, beer, and Goose.

We headed home to prepare for the big victory dinner-dance, cocktails in hand, cigars blazing from our mouths, and Springsteen blasting from the iPod. After a quick swim, shower, and change of clothes, and aided by our designated driver (my wife), we returned to the club for a wonderful evening, collecting both our money and our trophies. Chris reverted back to Margaritas (deftly deflecting the tip of the little bamboo umbrella with his glasses with each sip), while I enjoyed a small flock of Geese in celebration of our back nine charge, Spoon's historic putt, and our bulging wallets.

An unforgettable week...

"What's He Got, Rossy?" "He's Got No Shot, Kenny"

When the pin is back left, the wind is swirling, and your ass is puckered up tighter than a snare drum, selecting the right club to hit on #17 can be a most daunting proposition. As David Oliver demonstrates below, selecting the right club for one's second shot can be even more daunting, with a litany of swing thoughts that can run through one's head:

• Will the curb come into play on my follow-through, causing the ball to hit me in the nuts?
• Will the bark embedded in the dimples of the golf ball affect its flight to the hole?
• Will I be assessed for the damage I caused to the cart when I hit it with my tee shot, knocking the roof off of its moorings?
• I know one of these assholes has their camera phone out, and I'll probably see it on The Hosel Rocket.

Dray Crashes Bola. Next Stop - Hollywood!

In preparation for the upcoming 2012 La Buena Bola, The Hosel Rocket is pleased to reprint the following story from the 2010 Bola.

In the most brazen breech of etiquette seen since Dave McCallum's bowels caused an on-course rest room to burst into flames, Bob Dray successfully crashed the party at this week's La Buena Bola Member-Guest tournament.

Photographed above in the 19th hole, Mr. Dray first began to arouse suspicion when he attempted to enter the tournament Skills Challenge, and was subsequently found with a shopping bag containing three sleeves of Pro-V1 golf balls, a pair of new sunglasses, a golf shirt with tournament logo, and eight hot dogs.

"What's all the fuss about?" commented Dray. "The club said it was a member-guest event, not a member and guest. If I had known I had to bring a guest to get all this free stuff, I would have gladly done so. Though I've already eaten the hot dogs, I'll gladly return the rest of the stuff. The shirt was too big anyway, and the logo made my arm itch."

In a serendipitous turn of events, a prospective new golf member, actor Owen Wilson, was at LCCC yesterday during a brief trip home from Hollywood, and observed Dray being escorted off the property (sans shopping bag). In learning of Dray's attempt to crash The Bola, Wilson found the perfect theme for the long-awaited sequel to his blockbuster 2005 film, Wedding Crashers.

"Dude, I gotta' tell you, 'Bola Crashers' is going to be HUGE," Wilson said in an exclusive interview with The Hosel Rocket. "A movie about an old dude who has more more money than God, yet gets his kicks from crashing golf tournaments for free swag?! It's going to sell a ton of tickets, and I'm totally stoked that Bob agreed to sell us his story. We're flying him and his entourage out to Hollywood next week for screen tests, and we've already got Clint Eastwood on-board to play his stunt double. If all goes well, we intend to cast John Ehlert in the role of his golfing sidekick, kind of like a modern day Hope and Crosby duo."

Look for Bola Crashers in theatres near you during Labor Day weekend. Congratulations, Bob!

Health Officials Fear Nelsonitis Outbreak

DFW area health officials are bracing for a stronger than normal strain of Nelsonitis, an debilitating illness that affects a wide population of the Metroplex each year during the HP Byron Nelson Classic.


When asked what can be done to stop the spread of this malaise, retired US Surgeon General C. Everett Koop offered the following: "We took the brightest scientists we could find at the Centers for Disease Control, and deployed them at last year's Nelson to determine the root causes of the disease", reports Dr. Koop. "It seems that once our subjects entered the grounds of the tournament, they went straight to the Pavilion where they consumed massive quantities of beer. In turn, this precipitated some very bad choices involving car keys and women that, in many cases, had lasting repercussions."


In an effort to prevent an epidemic of Nelsonitis at this year's tournament, the CDC has prepared the following educational video. You've been warned.

Great Moments in Golf History

April 28, 2012 - Buck Stout makes a hole-in-one on the 4th hole at Las Colinas CC, and goes on to defeat Bill Crowley in the 2012 LCCC Men's Match Play Championship.

June 12, 1950 - Ben Hogan drills a 1-iron to eight feet on the 72nd hole, winning the 1950 U.S. Open at Merion Golf Club.

April 8, 2012 - Bubba Watson hooks a wedge from the woods off the 10th fairway at Augusta National Golf Club, propelling him to victory in the 2012 Masters.

April 1, 2012 - Nick Martin drains a tricky four-foot putt to save 13 (net 12) on the 18th hole of Las Colinas CC.

Rocket Clubz

As a reminder, tomorrow (March 30) is Demo Day at the club, with a large selection of putters, irons, wedges, fairway woods and drivers available for test drive from a wide range of manufacturers.

Some, it seems, couldn't wait for Demo day to arrive. Fed up with all the marketing hype around TaylorMade's RocketBallz club line, Todd Wilson is the first member of LCCC to play with the new RiverRocket, Model H20.

"Wilson! Come back Wilson!! WILSON!!!"

Manufactured by Nike, this 460-cc, ultra-stiff, weapon of grass destruction features an innovative titanium cavity that delivers a perfect combination of balance, distance, control and, when needed, buoyancy.

With a distinctive head cover crafted from the finest mink scrotum, the RiverRocket is on sale now in the pro shop at a discounted price of $499.  Put one in your bag, and you'll never have to worry about carrying the river to the left of hole #5 again.

Flushed...with Pride

Whether wielding a deck of cards, a ball retriever, or his checkbook, Bob Dray is a guy who plays to win, a philosophy he has always applied to the political arena as well.

"Fork it over, buttercup. Its
for a good cause. Trust me." 


A staunch liberal and generous donor to the National Democratic Party, Bob was recently appointed by Vice President Joe Biden to lead the Irving chapter of the 2012 Obama-Biden re-election campaign.

Taking on his new responsibilities with the same determination he brings to emptying our ponds of golf balls, Bob made what he thought was a generous contribution to the campaign war chest of the Democratic Party, but one that ended up coming back to bit him on the ass.  Literally.

"Look, anyone who knows me understands I recently had surgery on my hand, and it affected my handwriting a little," lamented Dray in an exclusive interview with The Hosel Rocket. "I wrote a check for $2,012 to 'Obama Biden', but it's obvious those idiots in Washington couldn't read my writing."

A quick visit to a warehouse in a sketchy section of Highland Park revealed the consequences of Dray's wobbly penmanship. "Those damn knuckleheads shipped me 2,012 Obama Bidets; the money was supposed to go to the re-election campaign. I know I have 12 bathrooms in my house, but what the hell am I going to do with the other 2,000?" 

"Dray's Oval Office"

In a classic example of turning lemons into lemonade, Dray applied his entrepreneurial genius to create a new business model for his new inventory of personal hygiene products.

After first consulting with road construction magnet Bob Armstrong ("Bob's Barricades") to verify that there would be no trademark infringement issues, Dray announced the launch of his new business, "Dray's Bidets" last week on ABC's Good Morning America, and his plan to rent out official President Barack Obama Bidets to LCCC members on a monthly basis.

"Look, summer's coming, and everyone gets a little case of swamp crotch after a round of golf in 95-degree heat. What better way to refresh yourself after four hours of golf (six, if you're Tom Francis) than with a quick trip to Dray's Bidet's?," gushed Bob. "Plus, if you're a ONE Member, I'll throw in the second unit at the same cost."

"If Herb Kohler could make money on this stuff, why can't I? Who knows, if this business takes off, I just might build my own golf course, just like he did with Whistling Straits."

In a related story, AVID Golfer magazine has announced that their May edition will feature a sneak preview of a new, ultra-exclusive golf club that will open later in 2012. Located in Dallas on the shores of Bachman Lake, The Links at Porcelain Trace is expected to surpass Dallas National Golf Club as the preferred club for the most discerning golfers in the Metroplex.

Look for the issue next month on newsstands everywhere.

R.I.P. Winter 2011-2012

With a recent run of glorious weather, and our fairways and trees turning a brighter shade of green with each passing weekend, it's apparent that Old Man Winter has left town, leaving his older brother, Bob Dray, to fend for himself for another year.

"How to find dis place, Cool River?
I hear day have Beaver dere."

As such, Commission Carter has decreed that Winter Rules are hereby suspended effective this weekend, along with the grip-length of relief that we've enjoyed through soggy conditions over the last several months. However, as we prepare to go back to playing the ball as it lies, not everyone is pleased with the arrival of spring at LCCC.

"I'm packing up zee traps in tree days and heading home", announced Pierre "Pepe" LePelt, the nomadic French Canadian fur trader, part-time golfer and seasonal resident of the grounds of Las Colinas Country Club. 

"Too many golfers on course now - scare away all zee animals," lamented a forlorn LePelt.  Muskrats? All hidink. Woodchuck? Same ting. And zee beaver? Oo la la, Francois love zee beaver, even da ones wit four legs. But day all gone, too."

When asked if the indigenous bird, fish, and vermin population would be enough to sustain his trapping and fur trading business until next winter, LePelt was unequivocal. "Normally, oui. But one a dem golfers iss out dere keeling all da birts, feeshes, and rodints with da golf ball. Merde! I don't who dees sheethead iss, but if Pierre catch im, he wring hiss scrawny neck!"

When Your Tee Time is Right, Will You Be Ready?

Lacking your customary distance off the tee? Thinking that it might be time to upgrade your driver, or maybe overhaul your entire swing? It could be that you're suffering from something more serious than outdated equipment or a swing resembling a folding lawn chair. 

You could be suffering from PD - Projectile Dysfunction.

Those suffering from PD may experience symptoms including runny nose, dry mouth, loose bowels, hitting driver on #4, frequent urges to urinate, ridicule from their playing partners, and a decrease in semen.

Fortunately, there's no reason to live with the shame and embarassment of PD, as men such as Ted Borek (see above) have found. No, the cure for PD can't be found in your neighborhood pharmacy, but rather on the LCCC driving range, as the accompanying video will illustrate.

Remember, with your help, we can stamp out PD in our lifetime.

Even His Father Was a Mudder

Conditions were a little sloppy on the course over the weekend, with many combatants opting to watch their golf on TV instead of slogging it out on the course.
There were, however, four intrepid souls who ventured out onto the course on Sunday, one of whom will require a little extra dry cleaning.

Anyone who can name the owner of these pants will receive a free one-year subscription to The Hosel Rocket, with those unsuccessful winning two-year subscriptions.

Phone lines now open!

Help The Homeless, Part Two

"I'm not coming back until you
redecorate that 19th Hole"

Long-time Hosel Rocket subscribers will remember the touching story of Boxcar Bob (right), a member of our local homeless community whom Ted Borek brought to LCCC last winter in a well-intentioned but ultimately unsuccessful effort to get him off the mean streets of Irving.

"I still don't get it," said Borek recently, after paying a visit to "Box" in his humble abode behind the Tom Thumb supermarket, "but I guess that just goes to show that while you can take the man out of the box, you can't always take the box out of the man."

Undeterred by the failure of the Boxcar Bob experiment, and citing the success of the new ONE Class Sleeper Seats installed in the Men's Card Room, GM Ron Woolard recently announced the opening of a new homeless shelter at LCCC for area residents who occasionally find themselves in need of a warm place to sleep on a cold night.

Operating out of the smoking room adjacent to the Card Room, the "LCCC Flop House" will feature two leather sofas that can be used as beds, cable TV, hot showers, and unlimited coffee and Chex Mix the following morning.

"ZZZZZ....F*CKING HOLTGRIEVE.....ZZZZ"

The first guest at the new shelter was none other than Chris Daniels, who completed a successful test run last weekend, and was later seen watching the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am from the comfort of the 19th Hole.

Those who find themselves unexpectedly in need of a bed at the Flop House are reminded that accommodations are on a first come, first served basis.

Confirmed - Officially "The Most Interesting Man in The World"

There isn't a member at LCCC who won't agree that our own Bill Douglass personifies the term "a gentleman and a scholar".  Devastatingly handsome, sartorially savvy, incredibly well-read, and possessing impeccable manners, women want to be with him, while men simply want to be him. What many don't know is that he also happens to be one heck of a dancer.


"I don't always drink beer. But when
I do, it's because I'm out of Scotch."

"I try not to talk too much about it," offered Billy D. in a recent interview with The Hosel Rocket, "as I know a few guys at Las Colinas who are pretty proud of their dancing ability. In particular, John Ehlert and Ted Borek come to mind, though people might stop coming to Carpenter's if they don't start dancing with their wives instead of with each other. However, when the news broke about my needing to take time off from work to go to Hollywood, it was impossible to keep it a secret any longer."

In a stunning exclusive, THR has learned that Mr. Douglass (aka, "The British Baryshnikov") and Lisa Lowry (wife of Danny "I Own Matt Miller's Ass" Lowry) were recently selected to compete in the upcoming season of ABC's hit series Dancing With The Stars. The manner in which they came to be selected is an amazing story all by itself.

In a fortuitous development, the host of the show, Tom Bergeron, had flown into DFW last June for a weekend of observing tryouts for prospective DWTS participants. Upon landing and retrieving his rental car, he mistakenly punched in the address for LCCC into his GPS instead of the coordinates for the nearby The Four Seasons where the tryouts were taking place.

"Danny? Danny who? Bill, I don't have
any idea who you're talking about."

Pulling into the LCCC club grounds, he followed the sound of blaring music to the vicinity of the pool, believing it was the dancers warming up for their auditions. After parking in front of the pool house, he stepped through the gates, only to find the luau for the 2011 La Buena Bola member-guest golf tournament in full swing.

While the crowd's attention was drawn to some commotion taking place on the pool diving board, Bergeron observed Mr. Douglass and Mrs. Lowry gleefully shaking a leg to Bing Crosby's classic "Mele Kalikimaka", limboing gracefully under a four-foot ladder and some old Christmas lights that GM Ron Woolard had rigged in an effort to keep the roof of the decrepit pool house from collapsing.

With a keen eye for talent (as well as dancing), Bergeron approached the couple, introduced himself, and signed them up on the spot.

"Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers couldn't carry their lunch on their best day," mused Bergeron, "and if I were Mr. Lowry, I wouldn't count on seeing my wife any time soon. Did you see the moves on that old guy?  Smoother than Tom Francis over a three-footer, that's all I can say."

Man Bites Dog!

"Hey, Eric. Why dontcha reach down
there and fix my ball mark? Gracias."

All members of the LCCC Hole-in-One Club are hereby put on notice that it's once again time to pay up, in this case our very own Mike "The Man Child" Withrow, who recorded an ace during a Super Bowl weekend boondoggle to Las Vegas.

Mike's HIO was recorded at Coyote Springs Golf Course, where he bumped a 9-iron off the hosel and into the jar from 145 yards out, wearing nothing more than a shit-eating grin, Ecco golf shoes, a red Speedo, and a "I (heart) Moonlight Bunny Ranch" tank top.

The hole-in-one was witnessed by Chris Daniels, Steve Holtgrieve, Jeff Forbus, and Eric Hunt, along with a gallery of Las Vegas-area residents that included Sigfreid & Roy, Penn & Teller, Wayne Newton, and Celine Dion (who was driving the beverage cart).

At present, there are 43 members of the HIO Club, meaning that once Mike pays himself (which could take some time), he'll be calling on the rest of the members to complete his $4,200 payday.  Those wanting to get into the club should click here to register.

Congratulations, Mike!

Your Nap. Reinvented.

For some, a day at LCCC is more than just a pleasant diversion from the grind of the work week, but rather a grueling test of endurance. 18 holes of golf, a few post-round cocktails on the patio, and several hours of gin rummy can sap the strength of even the hardiest of souls, some of whom occassionally run out of gas before they can make it to the car.

"zzzz...that's it...yes, right there...
...use more whipped cream...zzzz"

In the event you might have missed the announcement in his recent "State of The Club" newsletter, Ron Woolard is pleased to announce LCCC's new ONE Class Sleeper Seats, which can be reserved in the Card Room for a nominal membership upgrade fee of $75/month.

Designed in partnership with American Airlines, Ron claims these seats offer more legroom than any club in the Metroplex, and recline to a full 5 degrees when deployed in the sleeping position. Upholstered in fine naugahyde, each set features Kevlar-reinforced arm rests and casters, along with unlimited popcorn, cable TV, and complimentary wake-up service from Mr. Tee upon arrival the following morning.

Despite being installed for less than a month, the new ONE Class Sleeper Seats have been an instant hit, as former LCCC president James "The Sandman" Cassels demonstrates above, while a patient Cipriano Robles waits for his upgrade.

"LCCC. We Know Why You Snooze."

Film at Eleven

IRVING, Texas (AP) — Investigators say four people escaped injury when a helicopter made a rough emergency landing on a golf course. While a preliminary report from the FAA stated that the engine apparently quit, thereby forcing the chopper to land Sunday afternoon at Las Colinas Country Club, The Hosel Rocket has learned that the near catastrophe was caused by an errant tee shot from a member of the club, Cipriano Robles.


According to his playing companions,Robles was engaged in a high-stakes golf match known as "baseball", where wagering is based on whether a player's tee shot comes to rest on the left or right side of each fairway. As the match advanced to the 14th hole, and losing badly in the betting, Robles apparently devised a plan to get back in the match. Hailing a beverage cart and ordering a can of Stella Artois, Robles proceeded to drain the beer in a single gulp, and strode toward the #14 tee.

"This is the shot you guys came to see. I'm going for the green!", announced Robles to his playing companions, placing the empty Stella can on the ground as a tee, and setting his golf ball gently upon it. Taking advantage of the strong tailwind and the elevation of his ersatz tee, Robles took a Happy Gilmore-esque rip, sending his ball soaring over the trees toward the green below, confident of at least a two-putt birdie 3 or a possible eagle 2. 

In an unfortunate stroke of timing, a CBS helicopter was flying over the #14 fairway at precisely that very moment, filming a made for prime time match play event between Tom Francis and CD Heinen for Shell's Wonderful World of Golf. As the tail of the chopper took the brunt of the errant shot, Robles and his playing partners could only watch in horror as the craft begin to spin, the pilot working furiously to wrestle the chopper and its occupants to safety.

Fortunately for all concerned, the pilot's efforts were successful. He skillfully brought the stricken bird to a soft landing on the 14th fairway with help from John Cutler, who used a pair of Ping utility woods as paddles to direct the landing. After jumping in a cart and racing down the hill to the crash site, Cip exchanged insurance information with the pilot, then joined John for a quick picture (above).

With disaster averted and everyone's collective attention turned back to golf, Cip then asked for a ruling.

"Hey! It's just like #10 at Canyon Creek. You know, if you hit that telephone wire over the fairway, you get to reload!", he pleaded to his playing partners.  "That helicopter wouldn't even have been there if they weren't trying to film Tom Francis' putting stroke. Come on!"