The Golfer: Difference between revisions

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Some friends and I had decided to go to the course and mess around. It wasn't an uncommon thing for us to do at all. In fact, most weekends we would be out at the course, weather permitting of course. Anyway, that day we decided to take my dad's truck rather than ride our bikes all the way out to there. Yeah it's illegal, but we were teenagers, and teenagers are invincible right? Besides, my old man had been teaching me how to drive it; and it is better to ask forgiveness than permission right? In any case, we took the truck and headed out to the golf course. We never really played a serious round when we were together. Usually we just wanted to see who could hit the long ball, or who could hit James when we were chipping.
 
James was a small nerdy kid who worked around the driving range. We'd been fucking with him for a long time because he had come out of the closet when we were all 13. Hell, by now he was probably so used to us flipping him shit that he didn't notice but it was always a good laugh to see him duck and run when the golf balls came sailing toward him. At least until that one afternoon…afternoon...
 
The game was going as usual and as we played up hole #9, which runs parallel with the driving range, we saw James picking up balls. We all glanced at one another and laughed as I dropped a ball down and grabbed my wedge. Poor son-of-a-bitch never saw it coming. One minute the ball is sailing in the air, and the next we see James twitch and fall to the ground. Finally one of us had hit him! We all stood laughing and high fiving over the accomplishment. We then noticed that James hadn't gotten up yet. I told the other two to finish out the game and I'd meet them at the truck as I ran to see if he was ok.