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“The only thing good about golf is drinking and smoking”
Facts. Straight facts son.
Look, I like golf. I’m pumped when I know it’s a golf day. Violent hangover aside, waking up knowing you’re about to play golf on a Saturday is a great feeling. I’ve been in a share house all summer (Dune Road, Westhampton Beach stand up) so I haven’t played since May. I’m finally getting out there this week. I’m very excited about this.
Why am I excited?
Not for hitting the driving range and tinkering with my swing for half an hour. Not for fucking up my last two practice shots and ruining my confidence. Not for walking onto the first tee and slicing my drive into the woods. Not for picking up before the green on the third hole. Not for posting three snowmen in the first five holes. Not for losing five balls on the front nine. Not for contemplating breaking my clubs no less than fifteen times. Not for telling myself to calm down and then immediately losing my temper again. Not for scolding myself after every bad shot like a psychopath. Not for failing to break 90 again.
Not for any of that.
I’m excited to drink and smoke and chill with the boys. Golf is background noise. The music at a party that you occasionally dance and sing to if you’re really feeling it but ideally is left unnoticed. You want it to be good enough that it doesn’t distract you from the drinking and the smoking and the chilling.
That’s a round of golf. I’ll start out playing like shit. I’ll drink some beers. I’ll loosen up and start to figure some things out with my swing. I’ll eventually drink too many beers and start playing like shit again. I’ll hit a few bad shots in a row. I’ll say “fuck it” and start hitting shots without practice swings because deep down I actually think my practice swing is what’s fucking me up. I’ll hit a few good shots. I’ll hit one bad shot and lose all my momentum. I’ll smoke a cigar or something. I’ll drink more beers. And hopefully the competition is close enough where I’ll get really into it again on the last few holes so that maybe if I win the competition I can forget that my performance as a whole was absolutely awful.
But the whole time the only thing that really matters is the drinking and the smoking and having a day for the boys. Other than that?
P.S. Fuck you Saban. Coming for that ass in Tampa.