Matty G spares us an "ambush" video
in his write-up on a Make-A-Wish fundraiser, but instead shares with us in spellbinding detail an event that should never be documented: a Monday charity outing.
We didn't play by all the rules, at times we weren't complete gentlemen, and we didn't always hit great shots, but this group had a blast. It never ceases to amaze me how the game of golf can be the common denominator. Regardless of the fact that we didn't know each other and came from different backgrounds, professions and generations, for a little more than six hours, with an assortment of alcohol, hot dogs and a $100-per-man side-bet between two foursomes, we had the game of golf.
Really Darwinesque, don't you think?
It seemed like on every tee box we were greeted by a new form of alcohol, served by a young, scantily clad representative of the liquor company. The Hawaiian Tropic Zone Girls attended this function, also scantily clad, and we had an occasional visit on the course by a rogue cart full of marinated members of the gallery. Was THIS what they meant by "the spirit of the Hamptons?" Other than that, we had razor-sharp focus on the side-bet.
I'll condense the day of competitive golf down to the fact that my team won. I use "competitive" loosely here, and it's always a relative term. Each group and each player had good shots, clutch putts, lucky breaks and cold-tops that made you want to bury your head in the bottom of your bag. We had an above-average amount of smack-talk, change-shaking, chest-bumping and fist-pumping, but a portion of that has to be attributed to the "swing-oil" and an unusual number of pit stops.
And for those of you counting at home, that's 3 "scantily clad" mentions in 1200 words.
