SALINE, MICHIGAN
JUNE 10,
2003
Jess joined me at the
local driving range a couple times this week. Each
day we are there a couple "helpers" offer to assist Jess
with her swing. My nerves.
On Sunday evening, Bill
strolled over and offered Jess a few pointers. His
theory is to stick one of those large car-washing
sponges in between your arms (if the sponge falls out
during your swing, then you are swinging wrong). I
wanted to give Bill a couple tips:
1. Ease off all the golf
lingo on someone who has never played a round. He
was peppering her with terms like club face, swing
plane, contact point...
2. Ease off the sweets.
Bill was a fire hydrant at like 5' 6" 230+.
From now on, big Billy is
known to us as "Sponge Bill Fat Pants".
Last night an older
African American guy came up to give his tips to Jess.
I'm mumbling to myself the whole time, "Whatever
Chubbs". And by the way Chubbs, thanks for
crushing my new sunglasses with your
Frankenstein shoes. And thanks for offering to
pay for them (not).
