The Countdown
By Chip in Time
We began the countdown, like most Saturdays, at ten minutes till nine. The Grill was three deep. The members were in their usual fine voice and lively spirit. It has become our custom to refrain from anything stronger than gin until the established drinking hour of five o'clock. Confused? Let the words of noted Irishman Ross Madigan help you sort things out, "Algiers is a sunny seven hours ahead of us. That would make the local time ten minutes till four. That leaves us one hour short unless they are on Day Light Savings time or something. We err on the side of caution."
It was about three minutes before the bewitching hour when a striking woman with a microphone entered. She sat down, crossed her legs, then asked me a most peculiar question, "Do you carry a seven wood?" A gasp befell the merrymakers marking time, as this was a clear assault on my manhood. I was insulted. This was a kin to asking me if I needed Viagra and a magazine! Sitting next to me, sipping on something he called a warm up, John Jurgins just smiled.
I was dumbfounded. I needed a quick, well thought out response, but first I had to think. Would it help my game? Had I lost that much distance on my irons? What had she heard? Were guys talking out of school? Finally with a sweaty brow I said, "No, not normally or without the consent of my pro, but with you, I would probably need it." Satisfied with this answer, she lowered the microphone and joined in on the countdown. After a few "nods" to the clock, she left on John's arm.
I was flummoxed, what was that all about? Was she just another jealous journalist looking for an angle or did I have golf club envy? I guess only time will tell.
By the way, John called from her place four hours later wondering what kind of cigarettes do they smoke in Algiers?