Pride cometh before….. a case of the yips? An uncontrollable duck-hook? A bunch of lip-out par putts?
Seems one of my golfing klatch, our buddy Jim, aced the 110-yard 9th Hole yesterday. His picture was up in the clubhouse and was the talk of the crowd today. But rather than be humble about it, he scampered down to the 9th green, the scene of his glory, to erect this sign, to greet us as we made the turn. That is yours truly in the first pic, and a blow-up picture of the sign itself. Tsk…. Still, it was pretty damned funny.
If Jim never gets another favorable bounce off the pines down the side of the fairway on 4, or the membership hop out of the crap on 7, he should know why. He has angered the Golf Gods. He should ask their forgiveness else they may smite him. As for me? 42-45/87 today, ruining a good round (five pars and a birdie) with two triple bogeys. I find myself alternately cursing at and pleading with my g*ddamned pitching wedge, as I can’t figure out anything inside of 100 yards. I am either knocking it over or leaving it short. Either I have the gorilla touch or I turn into Betty Lou Sisterpants. DAMMIT!