Watching it Deteriorate
Played in a golf outing with 3 other guys. Two of us were drinking and two of us weren't. I was in the non-drinking cart. We called ourselves the Mormons. The other two guys were reaching into the cooler every ten minutes for another cold beer.
Now far be it of me to talk down on anyone that has a few cold ones while chasing a little ball around a huge pasture. I've done it so many times that I've lost count.
But I'm getting older and being ready, willing and able to put in long work hours is now the responsible thing to do.
So, my non-drinking partner and I watched it all slide downhill.
To be fair, it was a gradual decline. I started the day as the 4th best golfer. I ended the day as the 2nd best golfer on our team.
"How the hell did that happen?" One of the Coors Light fans shouted after he rapped a ball three feet to the right off the cart where his partner was tipping back a cold one.
Three feet!
We all laughed. Soon enough those types of shots started coming more often.
"I'm afraid they can't even putt anymore," my partner said.
They couldn't.
The social experiment continued at dinner. While two of us drank water, the other two got into the shots.
Their voices got louder. The insults were flying. All sense of reason was gone.
"Wow, it looks different when you aren't in on the party," I said.
Truth be told, it was a wildly entertaining day. We laughed together, got a lot of sun and put the white ball in the hole 18 times. We had steak, steamed clams, and won a few t-shirts.
As the evening wore down, however, there were only two of us in the car heading home.
The other two guys hung at the bar. They declined all offers for an early night.
"It's kind of fun watching them deteriorate," I said.
My non-drinking partner laughed.
We arranged for the eventual ride home of our heathen buddies.
"Did we act like that all those times?" he asked.
We sure did.
I bet we feel a lot better tomorrow.
Now far be it of me to talk down on anyone that has a few cold ones while chasing a little ball around a huge pasture. I've done it so many times that I've lost count.
But I'm getting older and being ready, willing and able to put in long work hours is now the responsible thing to do.
So, my non-drinking partner and I watched it all slide downhill.
To be fair, it was a gradual decline. I started the day as the 4th best golfer. I ended the day as the 2nd best golfer on our team.
"How the hell did that happen?" One of the Coors Light fans shouted after he rapped a ball three feet to the right off the cart where his partner was tipping back a cold one.
Three feet!
We all laughed. Soon enough those types of shots started coming more often.
"I'm afraid they can't even putt anymore," my partner said.
They couldn't.
The social experiment continued at dinner. While two of us drank water, the other two got into the shots.
Their voices got louder. The insults were flying. All sense of reason was gone.
"Wow, it looks different when you aren't in on the party," I said.
Truth be told, it was a wildly entertaining day. We laughed together, got a lot of sun and put the white ball in the hole 18 times. We had steak, steamed clams, and won a few t-shirts.
As the evening wore down, however, there were only two of us in the car heading home.
The other two guys hung at the bar. They declined all offers for an early night.
"It's kind of fun watching them deteriorate," I said.
My non-drinking partner laughed.
We arranged for the eventual ride home of our heathen buddies.
"Did we act like that all those times?" he asked.
We sure did.
I bet we feel a lot better tomorrow.
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