If You Go Too Far, You're Lost: A Golfer's Nightmare

I had a dream last night where I was playing golf with Jack Nicklaus and two other professionals, one looked like he was from India or Pakistan or Fuji and the other was just your average old garden-variety professional golfer. A big gallery was watching us. We had all missed the green, and were looking at difficult approaches to saving our pars.

The first golfer hit a fabulous flop shot, way up high in the air, it landed softly very close to the hole, and the appreciative gallery applauded. The ball rolled toward the hole, looked like it might go in, but at the last second it slid off to the right and almost came to complete stop. But it didn't. It kept trickling, wouldn't stop, just kept rolling along. It rolled slowly down a previously unseen slope, picking up speed as it went. It bombed toward a small creek running along the edge of the green, with a bridge over it. I thought to myself, "That ball is going in the water, damn that sucks, he hit such a beautiful shot."