Post by hmammoth on May 27, 2024 9:55:44 GMT -5
I know it has been a couple of weeks since I have written anything here, I could lie to you and say I was out enjoying the unusually good Irish weather, or inside watching rugby as the season is coming to a end and there are play off games and finals to watch but I think it is best to be honest. The true reason was I was soul searching, trying to decide should I warn you about this weeks course or stay quiet and hope that nothing happens. In the end, I decided it was best to tell you all, and you can decide for yourself if you want to play this week or not. The history of this course goes a long way back with it being one of the first golf courses in America. The course was a place of peace and relaxation, but as the locals would warn, it harbored a dark secret. Long ago, in the early 19th century, a groundskeeper an Irishman named Andrew O’Wavey, or Andy Waves or andywavex as he was known, tended to the golf course with unparalleled dedication. Andy had a deep love for the land, caring for it as if it were his own child. However, his life was cut tragically short when a fierce storm struck the town. It was a late autumn evening in 1818 when a fierce storm rolled in, Andy O’Wavey, the devoted groundskeeper of Emerald Glen, was well aware of the storm’s approach. He had spent the entire day securing the equipment, ensuring that the course would withstand the coming tempest. As the storm intensified, Andy noticed that the ancient oaks lining the 13th hole were swaying dangerously. Determined to protect the beloved course, he decided to brave the elements one last time. Dressed in his heavy woolen coat and battered hat, Andy stepped out into the raging storm. The rain lashed against his face, and the wind whipped at his clothes, but he pressed on, driven by a deep sense of duty. He reached the 13th hole, where the trees groaned under the strain of the gale. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the scene in stark, fleeting moments. Andy began to tie down loose branches and secure the old oak with ropes he had brought. The storm showed no sign of relenting, and the sky seemed to grow darker with each passing minute. Thunder rumbled ominously, and the air was thick with the scent of rain and earth. Just as Andy was finishing his work, a blinding flash of lightning split the sky. In that split second, a bolt struck the tallest oak, the very tree Andy was securing. The force of the lightning bolt was immense, and it traveled down the tree, hitting Andy with deadly precision. The energy coursed through his body, stopping his heart instantly. Andy’s lifeless body was found the next morning, sprawled at the base of the charred oak. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly into the sky, and his face was contorted in a mixture of shock and determination. The townsfolk were devastated by the loss of their beloved groundskeeper, and many believed that Andy had sacrificed himself to protect the course.
In the days that followed, strange occurrences began to plague the course. The 13th hole, where Andy had met his fate, became a focal point for these eerie happenings. Golfers reported feeling an unnatural chill, even on the warmest days, and some claimed to hear the faint sound of a whistle in the wind. The legend of Andy Waves grew from these tales. Locals whispered that Andy’s spirit, unable to rest, remained bound to the golf course. His love for the land had transformed into a curse, and his apparition was seen waving to those who dared approach the 13th hole. His shout of “Lookout!” became a harbinger of death, sealing the fate of anyone who heard it and over time, the original name of the course was forgotten and became Lookout River to all.
Over the years many people have claimed to seen Andy Waves, some lived to tell the tale but had they really seen Andy or were they just telling stories for attentions, others the claimed to have seen him, died soon after and these were the people that were believed. Many before they died, described what they saw and the stories they told were had eerily common details, especially their description of Andy. Andy Waves appears as a haunting figure, both eerie and unforgettable. His ghostly form is a tattered reflection of his once robust and hardworking self, forever bound to the golf course he loved so dearly. Here’s a more detailed description of his appearance. Andy’s visage is pale and translucent, with a faint glow that makes him visible even in the dimmest light. His face is gaunt, with sharp cheekbones and hollow eyes that seem to pierce through the soul. His eyes are perhaps the most unsettling feature—milky and vacant, yet filled with an indescribable sorrow. They appear wide open, reminiscent of the way he was found after his tragic death. His hair is a tangled mess of ghostly white strands, flowing around his face as if moved by an unseen breeze. It contrasts starkly with his dark, ragged clothing. Andy wears what appears to be an old groundskeeper’s uniform, now tattered and stained by the passage of time and the elements. The uniform, once a sturdy set of overalls and a simple shirt, now hangs loosely on his spectral frame, fluttering slightly even in still air. Around his neck, he wears a weathered leather strap, attached to which is a tarnished whistle—an instrument he once used to call the golfers or signal the end of the day. Now, it remains silent, a relic of his past life. His hands, long and bony, are almost skeletal, with fingers that curl as if grasping for something long lost. When Andy waves, it is a slow, deliberate motion, his arm rising and falling with a grace that is both mesmerizing and chilling. His movements are fluid, almost as if he is underwater, giving him an ethereal, otherworldly presence. As he waves, a faint mist swirls around him, enhancing the sense of otherness. His voice, when he shouts “Lookout!”, is a haunting echo, resonating with the anguish of his untimely death. It is a sound that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere, chilling the listener to the bone.
Many stories were told about Andy, many deaths were said to have been foreseen by his appearance. How many are real, how many are stories, not one knows but one fact remains, many believe Andy has appeared before many infamous instances at Lookout River. In the 1950s, Jack “Ace” Donovan, a celebrated local golf pro, decided to test his skills against the reputed dangers of the 13th hole. Confident in his abilities and dismissive of local superstitions, he made a bet with his friends that he could conquer the hole without incident. As he approached the tee, he noticed a mist forming around the green. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure waving. “Lookout!” echoed through the fog. Jack laughed it off, dismissing it as a prank by his friends. That evening, after celebrating his round, Jack was found dead in his car, parked in his driveway, eyes wide open and hands still gripping the steering wheel. The doctors said it was alcohol poisoning from his celebrating his victory over Andy, his friends, say Jack did not win.
Until this week, there has only been one tournament played at Lookout River and that was back in the 1970’s. During a regional golf tournament, there was a promising young golfer named Fiona McCarthy. Fiona had heard the stories of Andy Waves but focused on the tournament, determined to win. As she prepared to take her shot at the 13th hole, a hush fell over the crowd. Suddenly, a chilling breeze swept through, and Fiona saw a figure waving frantically in the distance. “Lookout!” The word hung in the air, causing a murmur among the spectators. Fiona finished her round but was visibly shaken. Later that night, she collapsed in her hotel room, her eyes open in terror. Since then now one dared organise a tournament at Lookout River until I decided to push ahead and use the course for this weeks Kinetic event.
It is not just players that have reportedly had run in’s with Andy.
In the 1990s, a new groundskeeper named Patrick took on the night shift at Lookout River He was a skeptic, more concerned with keeping the course in top condition than with ghost stories. One foggy night, as he was tending to the 13th hole, he felt an icy presence behind him. Turning, he saw Andy Waves, barely distinguishable in the thick fog, waving slowly. “Lookout!” Patrick stumbled back, dropping his tools. He reported the encounter to his supervisor, who dismissed it as fatigue. The next morning, Patrick’s body was found near the clubhouse, eyes staring blankly into the early dawn sky.
So why are we playing here this week, I hear you ask. Well, the golf club is slowly dying, membership is at a all time low, visitors stop and the golf club gates and turn around and drive the other way. The owners of the club approached me and asked for my help. It is their opinion that a major golf event held here with out incident would put paid to these stories, that death is natural, it can happen anywhere, including the 13th hole of a golf course. I said to myself, this is a good way to prove if spirits and ghosts exist, can a place really by haunted by a tragic death from the past? Me, well, I think it is all just coincidence and sending you all there this week, will just prove that. Unfortunately, I can not attend this week in person, I have stuff to do, important kinetic stuff that will keep me well away from this god forsaken place, I mean this stunning golf course which I am sure you will all enjoy, and who knows what stories you might have to tell at the end of the week, just don’t tell me. So good luck all, have fun and hopefully I will see all or some of you next week.
In the days that followed, strange occurrences began to plague the course. The 13th hole, where Andy had met his fate, became a focal point for these eerie happenings. Golfers reported feeling an unnatural chill, even on the warmest days, and some claimed to hear the faint sound of a whistle in the wind. The legend of Andy Waves grew from these tales. Locals whispered that Andy’s spirit, unable to rest, remained bound to the golf course. His love for the land had transformed into a curse, and his apparition was seen waving to those who dared approach the 13th hole. His shout of “Lookout!” became a harbinger of death, sealing the fate of anyone who heard it and over time, the original name of the course was forgotten and became Lookout River to all.
Over the years many people have claimed to seen Andy Waves, some lived to tell the tale but had they really seen Andy or were they just telling stories for attentions, others the claimed to have seen him, died soon after and these were the people that were believed. Many before they died, described what they saw and the stories they told were had eerily common details, especially their description of Andy. Andy Waves appears as a haunting figure, both eerie and unforgettable. His ghostly form is a tattered reflection of his once robust and hardworking self, forever bound to the golf course he loved so dearly. Here’s a more detailed description of his appearance. Andy’s visage is pale and translucent, with a faint glow that makes him visible even in the dimmest light. His face is gaunt, with sharp cheekbones and hollow eyes that seem to pierce through the soul. His eyes are perhaps the most unsettling feature—milky and vacant, yet filled with an indescribable sorrow. They appear wide open, reminiscent of the way he was found after his tragic death. His hair is a tangled mess of ghostly white strands, flowing around his face as if moved by an unseen breeze. It contrasts starkly with his dark, ragged clothing. Andy wears what appears to be an old groundskeeper’s uniform, now tattered and stained by the passage of time and the elements. The uniform, once a sturdy set of overalls and a simple shirt, now hangs loosely on his spectral frame, fluttering slightly even in still air. Around his neck, he wears a weathered leather strap, attached to which is a tarnished whistle—an instrument he once used to call the golfers or signal the end of the day. Now, it remains silent, a relic of his past life. His hands, long and bony, are almost skeletal, with fingers that curl as if grasping for something long lost. When Andy waves, it is a slow, deliberate motion, his arm rising and falling with a grace that is both mesmerizing and chilling. His movements are fluid, almost as if he is underwater, giving him an ethereal, otherworldly presence. As he waves, a faint mist swirls around him, enhancing the sense of otherness. His voice, when he shouts “Lookout!”, is a haunting echo, resonating with the anguish of his untimely death. It is a sound that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere, chilling the listener to the bone.
Many stories were told about Andy, many deaths were said to have been foreseen by his appearance. How many are real, how many are stories, not one knows but one fact remains, many believe Andy has appeared before many infamous instances at Lookout River. In the 1950s, Jack “Ace” Donovan, a celebrated local golf pro, decided to test his skills against the reputed dangers of the 13th hole. Confident in his abilities and dismissive of local superstitions, he made a bet with his friends that he could conquer the hole without incident. As he approached the tee, he noticed a mist forming around the green. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure waving. “Lookout!” echoed through the fog. Jack laughed it off, dismissing it as a prank by his friends. That evening, after celebrating his round, Jack was found dead in his car, parked in his driveway, eyes wide open and hands still gripping the steering wheel. The doctors said it was alcohol poisoning from his celebrating his victory over Andy, his friends, say Jack did not win.
Until this week, there has only been one tournament played at Lookout River and that was back in the 1970’s. During a regional golf tournament, there was a promising young golfer named Fiona McCarthy. Fiona had heard the stories of Andy Waves but focused on the tournament, determined to win. As she prepared to take her shot at the 13th hole, a hush fell over the crowd. Suddenly, a chilling breeze swept through, and Fiona saw a figure waving frantically in the distance. “Lookout!” The word hung in the air, causing a murmur among the spectators. Fiona finished her round but was visibly shaken. Later that night, she collapsed in her hotel room, her eyes open in terror. Since then now one dared organise a tournament at Lookout River until I decided to push ahead and use the course for this weeks Kinetic event.
It is not just players that have reportedly had run in’s with Andy.
In the 1990s, a new groundskeeper named Patrick took on the night shift at Lookout River He was a skeptic, more concerned with keeping the course in top condition than with ghost stories. One foggy night, as he was tending to the 13th hole, he felt an icy presence behind him. Turning, he saw Andy Waves, barely distinguishable in the thick fog, waving slowly. “Lookout!” Patrick stumbled back, dropping his tools. He reported the encounter to his supervisor, who dismissed it as fatigue. The next morning, Patrick’s body was found near the clubhouse, eyes staring blankly into the early dawn sky.
So why are we playing here this week, I hear you ask. Well, the golf club is slowly dying, membership is at a all time low, visitors stop and the golf club gates and turn around and drive the other way. The owners of the club approached me and asked for my help. It is their opinion that a major golf event held here with out incident would put paid to these stories, that death is natural, it can happen anywhere, including the 13th hole of a golf course. I said to myself, this is a good way to prove if spirits and ghosts exist, can a place really by haunted by a tragic death from the past? Me, well, I think it is all just coincidence and sending you all there this week, will just prove that. Unfortunately, I can not attend this week in person, I have stuff to do, important kinetic stuff that will keep me well away from this god forsaken place, I mean this stunning golf course which I am sure you will all enjoy, and who knows what stories you might have to tell at the end of the week, just don’t tell me. So good luck all, have fun and hopefully I will see all or some of you next week.
