John Cullum,
Huck is the sucker.
I did know better.
That's why I created three bets.
One at 12 strokes, one at 10 strokes and one at 8 strokes.
Ran, through what could best be described as a totally mis-hit, mis-directed putt won the 12 shot bet on the 17th hole, and lost the 10 and 8 shot bets in the morning match.
In the afternoon match, the only sound that could be heard on the tranquil high plains and sand hills of Nebraska was a continuous, unmanly, shrill and prolonged whining that begged for 12 shots.
As a 7 handicap, I felt that he was taking advantage, but, as a friend, I felt that I owed him the chance to claim victory, no matter how tainted it was.
You have to learn to prime the pump, to let the other guy win every once in a while so that he will return, over and over again, expecting different results.
We were competitive, and, we did have fun.
P.S. Anyone who thinks that hickories are meant for the ground game doesn't know their ass from a niblick.
As to TEPaul,
You have it backwards, I'm the one who lights his fuse.
On the flight home we had a rather attractive attendent.
I mean she was really attactive, and nice.
I pointed out the guy wearing the Sand Hills shirt and Sand Hills cap. I asked her to approach him and ask him if he was the famous golf course architect, Bill Coore.
She did.
He responded, "No, but, I know him."
She responded, "Yeah, and so does the guy sitting a few rows in front of you."
It's easy to light his fuse.
Just ask him about the time I pulled his ticket out of his pocket in the Denver Airport and left it on the ground.