The Threesome of Little Pigs

By Jim Corbett
(Copyright 1996)

Once upon a time, on a bright sunny morning in fall, a threesome of little pigs stood on the first tee. They were waiting impatiently for the fourth member of their party to arrive, but, he was always late and it seemed as though this time they would have to play without him. As they waited they puttered around the tee, taking practice swings and doing some stretching exercises to loosen up their muscles.

All of this stretching and readying and honing of the pigs' muscles did not go unnoticed by a wolf who had just arrived at the course as a single, and who was hoping to get in a quick eighteen holes. He cordially approached the little pigs and asked if he could join their group for a fine day on the links. But, being pigs, they were somewhat suspicious of the wolf's use of the term "links" when addressing them, so they declined, saying they would rather play by themselves. The wolf, having only the purest of intentions, and being a perfectly gentle creature, deferred to their wishes and played as a single behind their group.

When it finally became clear that their fourth was not going to show, the threesome of little pigs began to hit their drives. The first little pig, whose clubs were made of hickory shafts, got up to hit his drive, but he topped it and, alas, it did not go very far. The second little pig, whose clubs were made of steel shafts, got up to hit his drive, but he hooked it and it went out of bounds on the left. Then the third little pig, whose clubs were made of graphite shafts, got up to hit his drive, but he sliced it and it went out of bounds on the right. The wolf rolled his eyes -- it was going to be a long day.

The threesome of little pigs sauntered down the fairway, laughing and talking and having a good time until they arrived at the ball of the first little pig. He took quite a while to determine which hickory club to hit next, changing his mind several times before finally deciding. Then he took a number of practice swings and stopped to tell a quick tale about the last time he was on this hole, and how on that occasion he had hit a fine shot, indeed. His friends all remembered that day and voiced their admiration of that wonderful shot. He addressed the ball, took his back swing, but, alack and alas, he topped it again. The wolf winced.

After a lengthy, but futile search for the ball that had gone out of bounds on the left, the second little pig dropped a ball and took his next shot with one of his clubs, which was made with steel shafts. Unfortunately he hooked that shot as well and, whereas it went quite a distance, it went out of bounds on the left again. The wolf moaned.

When the second little pig hit his shot, the third little pig finally began to look for his ball, which had earlier gone out of bounds on the right. He spent a bit of time wandering through the woods, rooting around under leaves and bushes, but he was not able to find his ball. He too, took a drop and sent another blast up the fairway, but lo and behold, he sliced that one too, and it went out of bounds on the right. The wolf clutched at his stomach.

The day proceeded in much this same fashion through the first several holes. The wolf thought, "Perhaps when we get to the sixth hole, a par-3, these fine fellows will let me play through and I can get on with my game". That did not happen.

When the wolf finished putting out on number five he walked to the tee for the sixth hole and called out to the little pigs, "Little pigs, little pigs, won't you let me play through?" But the little pig with the hickory shafts hollered back, "I'll muff and I'll duff and I'll slow your game down!"

And then the pigs wandered around the green, taking a tremendous number of putts and an amazingly long time to get ready for each one. They needed to gauge the distance very accurately and read the greens very carefully. They had to make sure they checked out each putt from every angle and tested the wind and removed all debris from the path of the ball. And when they finally left the green, which was now covered with little pig hoof marks, they neglected to replace the pin in the cup. The wolf was very disappointed.

The wolf, being a creature who believed in the basic goodness of all his fellow creatures, felt certain that at the turn, after the ninth hole, he would be able to convince these gentlepigs that it was in the interest of all to allow him to play through. Surely they would stop at the turn for lunch. "After all, they are pigs," he thought. But they did not stop at the turn.

When the pigs completed the ninth hole they hurried (for the first time all day) to the tenth tee and immediately began to play the back nine. But as difficult as it may sound, their play slowed down on the back nine when they pulled their sandwiches and soft drinks out of their golf bags on the tenth fairway and ate their lunch as they walked along the course. The wolf felt ill.

Now, the threesome of little pigs had the unfortunate habit of tallying their scores for each hole while standing on the green, before they proceeded to the next hole. But on the tenth green they took extra long because they had not stopped at the turn to total their front nine scores. So after they had completed their addition for the front nine (which was a formidable task), they spent a few extra moments comparing scores and commenting on how well the others were all doing.

While the wolf was standing in the fairway, waiting for the threesome of little pigs to tally their score, he called out to them, "Little pigs, little pigs, won't you let me play through?" But the little pig with the shafts made of steel hollered back, "I'll muff and I'll duff, and I'll slow your game down!" The wolf bent his seven iron into the shape of a pretzel.

On the fourteenth hole the threesome of little pigs all hit their balls into the lake and on the fifteenth hole they all hit their balls into the bunker. Then on the sixteenth hole the cellular phone in the first little pigs golf bag began to ring. Judging by the laughing and carrying on, it was apparently the fourth little pig, who had overslept for the round, calling to chat and find out how the round was going.

As they were chatting on the phone, the wolf called out to them, "Little pigs, little pigs, won't you let me play through?" But the little pig with the shafts made of graphite hollered back, "I'll duff in the rough and I'll slooow your game down!" At this point the wolf was pulling hair out from all over his body.

When the round was finally over the threesome of little pigs saluted one another with high fives and promises of another round, just as fun as this one, in the very near future. The wolf putted out on the 18th and walked back over to his car, which just happened to be parked near the car of the threesome of little pigs. As he was putting his clubs into his trunk he heard them talking about how time flies when you're having fun. After all, they had played the round in just over six hours!

The wolf made a valiant effort to put some very uncharitable thoughts out of his mind. But, then he gave in to temptation and he ate them all. The wolf felt a whole lot better.