Priest goes golfing Sunday morning

If fellow Gazette columnist and blogger Todd Dorman likes golf jokes, here's one for him.

As a young man, Frank was an exceptional golfer. Before he turned 25, however, he decided to become a priest. He took the usual vows of poverty, chastity, and even promised never to play golf on Sunday.

One Sunday morning, Father Frank awoke to a wonderful, sunny spring day. He couldn't resist, so he told an associate priest that he was feeling under the weather and drove 50 miles out of town to play golf. That way, no one would recognize him.

On the first tee, Father Frank addressed the ball all alone. After all, his flock was in church.

About this time, up above, St. Peter turned to God and asked, "Are you going to let him get away with that?"

God sighed. "Oh, I guess not."

At that moment Father Frank hit the drive of his life on the 420-year par-4 hole. The ball soared higher than he'd ever seen it soar, bounced higher than it ever had bounced, landed on the green and rolled into the hole.

St. Peter was flabbergasted. "Why," he asked God, "did you let him do that?"

God smiled. "Who's he going to tell?"