::deep breath:: While this wasn't on an actual course, it is golf related, and I consider it terribly unlucky. When I was in 1st grade, I was outside hitting plastic golf balls with a friend of mine, who was in 2nd grade. It was my turn. I swung my 7-iron, first making contact with the plastic golf ball, then making crisp contact with his eye, because he just happened to be walking right behind me. You would have thought a murder had happened there, based upon the bloody aftermath. He had numerous operations as I recall, and his mother wanted me (well, my parents) to be responsible for the medical bills. I even had to go sit in front of tape recorders at a police station/FBI and give my story. Oh, the horror of being a first grader. ~18 years later, people still give me grief when I pull out a 7-iron from the bag.