Use your words

I'm not bragging, but I shot a hot round of golf in Forest Park this week. Steve and Melissa came along to play and ended up getting schooled. Steve conveniently "forgot" to pickup a scorecard when we checked in. Right. And the captain of the Titanic "forgot" the binoculars.

On the second hole, I blasted one with a seven iron and it landed a few feet from the pin. It was the beginning of the end. On the fifth, my drive was straight and true, 250 yards. A pitching wedge later, the ball was nestled inches from the hole. Steve got all Dr. Phil on me. "I feel sad when you drop the ball a foot from the cup like that." Melissa was supportive. But she weilded a mighty sand wedge on the seventh hole that pretty much left Steve in the dust. I shouldn't say this, but by the eighth hole, I saw a tear running down his cheek. By the ninth, the guy was so shook up he (and I'm not joking about this) mistakenly used a six iron to tee off instead of a nine and ended up drivng the ball into the parking lot. Mulligan!

I have to say I felt bad for him, the way you do when dog has to eat dry chow without any gravy. I mean, it's hard to swallow something like that.