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  <blog-id type="integer">1097852</blog-id>
  <body>This has nothing to do with our golf episode but since we had no plot in our golf episode other than golf, it is fitting.


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It's been chronicled previous but not on the internet. I have cheated at golf. I don't mean I took a 4 when I had an 8. I am talking about something far worse, an act the Royal and Ancients would label as heresy.

 

As a youth and even into my mid twenties, I would on occasion report to local newspapers fake holes-in-one.

 

I would call the local Seattle papers and in my best big man voice pretend to be the pro shop manager or the starter at an area golf course. My friend Noel Sansaver recorded about five holes-in-one via this fraudulence.

 

Sports Editor: Hello. Sports.

 

Me: Hello. This is Art Brattamayer here at North Shore Golf Course.

 

Sports Editor: Uh huh.

 

Me: Yes. I am calling to report a hole in one.

 

Sports Editor: What do you have?

 

Me: The name is Noel Sansaver. S-A-N-S-A-V-E-R. Hole number seven. 149 yards. He used a 7 iron. I saw it with my own eyes.

 

Sports Editor: OK. We'll get it in tomorrow.

 

Noel would arrive from Montana the next day. We would laugh like schoolgirls.

 

This went on for a number of years. Noel was becoming one of the most prolific hole in one artists in the Northwest.

 

Then I got scared straight.

 

Noel was coming to town again. I needed to gift him another hole in one to keep our stunt going. 

 

Sports Editor: Sports.

 

Me: Yes. This is Frank Dorbenstorter at Vintage Oaks golf course. I have a hole in one to report.

 

I gave out the particulars, spelled Noel's last name, held in my laughter from this terribly funny routine. Then the sports editor took me down.

 

Sports Editor: Where is that course?

 

I hesitated before naming a local suburb.

 

Sports Editor: I live out there. There's no such golf course.

 

I'd been found out. It hit me hard. One sharp sports editor had turned the trick on me. He probably didn't even live in Bothell, or whatever suburb I'd named. He had just read me well over the phone. He knew I was a fraud. I never attempted such a falsity again. Noel was devastated.

 

There is nothing like this in our golf episode. It's not nearly as dramatic. </body>
  <commentable type="boolean">true</commentable>
  <created-at type="datetime">2009-01-06T11:52:25Z</created-at>
  <id type="integer">76648</id>
  <permalink></permalink>
  <rating type="integer">2</rating>
  <title>Golf</title>
  <updated-at type="datetime">2009-06-05T21:48:54Z</updated-at>
</post>
