TUMWATER USA – Golf on a recent fading Thursday evening at the course closest to Grey Goatee World Headquarters, too dark, of course, to play on, but you’re so close and what the hell.
I jerked it hard into the trees on the left on 18, but I had a shot to the green. Struck it clean with a 7-iron, and didn’t think the snick on the skinny leafy branches would slow it down. Never found it. Went back to the spot, hit it on the goddamn green, close, and made my bogey putt. I was glad it was 18, ‘cause it was goddamn dark.
There was a Stella in the bar and all I had to do was ask for her. I really wanted Manny, but Stel has never let me down and Manny lives in other taps. Baseball was on the screen, close by the NFL draft, and Dez went 22 to the Falcoons. But baseball, it was baseball, the Mariners up 2-0 and the rookie pitching a shutout … yanked in the seventh, but the home team got two in the bottom on consecutive well-hit singles. Goddamn.
In the bar, there were the guys that were playing in front of me, as snide as I on the subject of the M’s, but the talk never veered far from golf, the shots that you bollixed that ended up okay and the pure strikes that flew into bad places.
As always, the thing was whether it all evens out. The consensus was yeah, probably, but goddamn it not tonight.
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