Two weeks ago I set the scene in front of the clubhouse at the beginning of the annual guys golf orgy in Peoria, Ill.—where I am today:
Jason will be clad in orange, his college colors.
I’ll be on the range, on the practice green and at the clubhouse bar all at once.
Howard will be stretching, and grunting dire predictions about how many more years he’s going to do this, Gentlemen.
Mike will be offering sincere encouragement to his teammates and foes alike.
You don’t know what Philo will be doing, but it will probably be in the clubhouse bathroom.
Steve’s whereabouts are unpredictable, which keeps the weekend interesting.
Sandy will have a grin on his face wider than the first fairway.
And Javier will be surveying the scene with cool detachment that belies his gleeful inner child (see Sandy).
Fellers, I can’t wait.
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