[Bagger Lance]

Courtesy of Rick Reilly at Sports Illustrated.

So we go Yogi Bear on the last six holes, and he goes Helicopter City with every one of his bats right there, straight into the Jacques Cousteau. Then he gives me the bullet, bang, just like that. Looks like I'm trollin' at Westchester.
(Translation) So we played each of the last six holes in one-over-par bogey. This made my player very angry, and he began throwing each of his clubs in a whirling manner into the nearby body of water. Then he fired me. It appears I'll be in the parking lot at the next tournament, which is Westchester, asking players if they need a caddy.


What'd we post? How's eight sound, bee-atch? Man, he had some damn heat on his toast. All day, we were drawin' steel and rippin' cloth. We keep rakin' like this, and I'm gonna be winner-winner-chicken-dinner!
(Translation) What score did my player shoot? How does eight under par sound to you, fella? Sir, he was hitting his driver very well. The entire round we were taking our irons out of the bag and hitting the ball very close to the flagstick. If we continue like this, I will be purchasing dinner for my hotel roommates, as it is customary for the winning caddy to do.


Guess how we end up trunk slammin' last week? We're on 18, right? So we bring this sweet seven straight down the chimney with some hellacious sauce on it. 'Cept it jizzes into the Johnny Cat and the sumbitch knits us a sweater in there. We take two scoops, and it's DTR, baby.
(Translation) Would you care to know how we missed the cut at last week's tournament? On the last hole my player hit an extremely high seven-iron to the green, only it had too much backspin and spun into the sand bunker. There he did not perform well. He scored a two-over-par double bogey. Soon we were driving in our cars, down the road, to the next tournament, friend.


This blows. Why'd I ever take Vijay anyway? I got this scratch Betty waitin' for me, and where are we goin'? Back to the blister box, as usual. Dude is totally dialed in. Why do we gotta live at Fungoland?
(Translation) This is disappointing. Why do I caddy for Vijay Singh anyway? I have a beautiful young girl waiting for me, but where am I going instead? Back to the practice grounds. My player is playing well. Why must he spend so much time at the practice grounds?


Man, I shoulda shut my pie hole today. We got 250 layup or 300 carry, and I go, 'C'mon, let's go WMD.' And he finally buys it, but then he gets at the top and just kinda runs outta oxygen. Next thing you know, we're 404 in the nasty muff and wind up shootin' three quarters.
(Translation) Friend, I shouldn't have spoken to my player today. We had the choice of hitting a 250-yard shot short of the lake or hitting a driver that would have had to fly 300 yards over it. My player agreed with my suggestion to hit the weapon of mass destruction, which is what we kiddingly call the driver. But he did not handle the moment well. We wound up in the deep weeds in a 404 situation, which refers to the computer message, 404: FILE NOT FOUND. He ended up shooting 75.


Did you hear Reilly got whacked? Dude is such a tool. His man is halfway down when Reilly yells, 'Eat hot titanium!' and his boy carves a Rick Flair into prison. And Reilly goes, 'I don't care if that thing's wrapped in bacon, Lassie ain't findin' it.' His man volcanoes right there and sacks him. Should be some short pamphlet, huh?
(Translation) Did you hear Reilly was fired? The man is quite a fool. His player was in the middle of his downswing when Reilly yells a phrase to encourage him to hit his driver a long way. Rattled by this, his player hits it deep into the rough. And Reilly says, 'That is very far into the rough, and we're probably not going to find it.' This makes his player so mad he fires him. It will be a very short book ($24.95 -- props up wobbly tables, too!), right?

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/ins.../03/reilly0602/

Bagger