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Jokes About Sports - Page 2


Here are more of our jokes and funny stories about sports.


This is page 2 of 5.


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Why did the basketball court get wet?
The players dribbled all over it.

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"Charlie, why don't you play golf with Ted any more?" Charlie's wife asked.
"Would you play golf with a chap who moved the ball with his foot when he thought you weren't watching?" Charlie replied.
"Well, no," admitted his wife.
"And neither will Ted," replied the dejected husband.

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Two fishermen were out in their boat one day when a hand appeared out of the water.
"What's that?" asked the first fisherman. "It looks like someone's drowning."
"Nonsense," said the second. "It was just a little wave."

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A guy stood over his tee shot for what seemed an eternity, looking up, looking down, measuring the distance, figuring the wind direction and speed... driving his partner nuts.
Finally his exasperated partner says, "What the is taking so long? Hit the ball!"
The guy answers, "My wife is up there watching me from the clubhouse. I want to make this a perfect shot."
"Give me a break! You don't stand a snowball's chance of hitting her from here."

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Three guys were trying to sneak into the Olympic Village to scoop souvenirs and autographs. The first says, "Let's watch the registration table to see if there's a crack in the security system that we can utilize to scam our way in."
Immediately, a burly athlete walks up to the table and states, "Angus MacPherson. Scotland. Shotput." He opens his gym bag to display a shotput to the registration attendant.
The attendant says, "Very good, Mr. MacPherson. Here is your packet of registration materials, complete with hotel keys, passes to all Olympic events, meal tickets, and other information."
The first guy gets inspired and grabs a small tree sapling, strips off the limbs and roots, walks up the registration table and states: "Chuck Wagon. Canada. Javelin."
The attendant says, "Very good, Mr. Wagon. Here is your packet of registration materials, hotel keys, passes, meal tickets, and so forth. Good luck!"
The second guy grabs a street utility manhole cover, walks up to the registration table and states: "Dusty Rhodes. Australia. Discus."
The attendant says, "Terrific, Mr. Rhodes. Here is your packet of registration materials, hotel keys, a full set of passes, and meal tickets. Enjoy yourself."
They scamper in, but suddenly realize the third guy is missing. They groan, because he's a simpleton from the hills of Vermont. They forgot to make sure he doesn't do something stupid and blow their cover stories.
Just then he walks proudly up to the table with a roll of barbed wire under his arm and states: "Foster Bean. Hardwick, Vermont. Fencing."

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A lovely afternoon finds a man and his wife golfing. They have had a wonderful time and the man has had a near perfect game. The final hole, by far the most difficult, wraps around an old barn. With a terrible slice the man puts the barn between his ball and the green. Knowing that the strokes that it will take to get around the barn will destroy his score, he begins to rant and rave. His wife hating to see him ruin such a great afternoon makes a suggestion.
"What if I were to hold open the barn doors? That way you could send it right through the barn onto the green."
He thinks this over and decides that it will work. With his wife holding open the barn door he lines up with the hole and gives the ball a terrific "whack"! The ball shoots through the air and right into the head of his wife, killing her instantly.
Months go by, the man mourning all the while. His friends, hating to see him in such a state, convince him to go golfing with them. They end up at the same course and on the final hole, oddly enough, another terrible slice puts the old barn between his ball and the green. Again he begins to rant and rave at what this dilemma will do to his score. He friend, wanting to please him, makes a suggestion.
"What if I were to hold open the barn doors? That way you could send it right through the barn onto the green."
"No," the man replies, "last time I did that I got two over par."

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"I went fly-fishing yesterday."
"Did you catch anything?"
"Yes, a bluebottle."

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Old skiers never die. They just go downhill.

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Coming home from his Little League game, Billy swung open the front door very excited. Unable to attend the game, his father immediately wanted to know what happened.
"So, how did you do, son?" he asked.
"You'll never believe it!" Billy said. "I was responsible for the winning run!"
"Really? How'd you do that?"
"I dropped the ball."

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In Africa some of the native tribes have a custom of beating the ground with clubs and uttering spine chilling cries. Anthropologists call this a form of primitive self-expression. In America we call it golf.


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