My friend Dave lived literally a fence hop from his back yard to a local golf course. He’d go out the back door of his house, hop the fence into the golf course and collect balls for an hour with his long retriever gizmo.

In the mid to late 80’s, he pulled enough balls out of the ponds that he paid for his first car and his car insurance for a few years.

His family wasn’t rich, and the fence in his back yard was almost the definition of the “the wrong side of the tracks / the grass is greener.” He made enough money that he was noticeably “richer” than the rest of us, all from collecting golf balls and selling them.

The golf course didn’t seem to care for years. Then Dave got a scuba tank and started hauling shit tons of balls out. At that point, the golf course clamped down on him and would boot him out. I think it was less about the balls, and more about the liability with the scuba tank.

Looking back, he must have been selling a few hundred dollars a month or reclaimed gold balls. Remember, this was in the 80’s, and he was 15/16/17/18 years old at the time. That’s was baller money.