Played golf with my dad today. I'm not a shabby golfer. I'm usually trying to beat 95 and sometimes get close to beating 90. Actually shot a 40 on the front nine of Bear Creek last year. My dad hasn't played golf in 3 years. Complains about his age, and started the game with how he wasn't going to play more than 9 holes today to save his old, tired back.
I love you, dad, but cry me a freakin river.
You all should have seen the shots my dad was pulling out his butt today. His chip shots were consistently on top of the pin, and his 'relaxed' style kept his ball in play more times than not. I was smashing the ball off the tee boxes today, yet on hole 10, 'Pops' outdrives me by 3 feet. Now, overall, on the scorecard, I did a bit better than him, but when it came to the short game, I couldn't touch him. His putts hit the hole just about everytime. Didn't always go in, but the ball sure lipped the cup most of the time. It was deadly accuracy, and I'm beginning to believe that my dad is sandbagging and waiting for the right time to play me for money. I'm not falling for it....
Good Game, Pop!!
-Gary
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