They’re always diddling around, I run by each day and it’s only about two city blocks that I can see them and they’re always just blahbedy blah standing there or putt-putting around in the little cars – and there’s a green and a tee right there so I should as I run by see at least one shot by someone, but nooooo, some dude is taking fake swings over and over, as if that will help, another is looking at the green like he’s peering into a peep show and I’m just thinking, hit a god damned ball, someone, please hit a god damned ball, but every so often I get to watch someone chip up on to the green or tee off from the hill, and today I even saw a guy crush it – par 3 crush it – and land about three feet from the hole and his buddies all watch the ball until it stops then turn to him, and you know he knows, and I keep running, thinking, it was worth the wait.
A Golf Story
Published by luke
Born in Iowa City a few days after John Kennedy was shot and killed. Grew up in Minneapolis, on Lake Calhoun. Southwest High. University of MN. Lived in a two-room cabin in the woods on Lake Superior. Cabin on South Long Lake. There's a lake theme developing here. View all posts by luke