@fullcoverbetting,

I golf approximately once every ten years. It takes me that long to forget how humiliated I was the last time I played.

Let me recount what happened last time. I was out with a couple friends. I was averaging about 15-20 strokes per hole. No matter how bad you are, though, once in a while you'll stumble ass-backwards into greatness.

There I was on some middle-of-the-game hole and wham. I drove the ball straight down the fairway like I was Hercules. To my surprise, there were about 5-6 guys watching me, who, having witnessed my prowess, broke into applause.

Me being me, I gave a slight nod of my head and a whisper of a wave in acknowledgement of their admiration. You know, like a mounted prince gracing the peasants with a passing glance.

Several holes later, to my horror, the same group had stopped playing and were awaiting, on a nearby hilltop, to see my next drive. To learn from the Master. I tried everything I could to stall ... to try to make them lose interest and go away. They exhibited zen-like patience.

So, finally, I lined up behind the ball and let rip. The ball never got more than 5 feet off the ground (and I'm being generous) and veered off at what I estimate to be a 45 degree angle from the direction I had intended.

I glanced up at the onlookers, my groupies. Their mouths were agape. They'd been conned ... and I was the Bernie Madoff of golf hopefuls. I had sold ice to Eskimos. They turned away, their hopes shattered by my deception, with naked looks of repugnance.

It's been almost 10 years now, so, I guess it's time to get back on the greens.

Quill.