After much thought, I've decided to return to golf, kicking cycling to the curb, other than ceremonial appearances every Tuesday and Thursday for the COP rides and Saturday and Sunday mornings. I'll still go through with the CA training camp trip but it will be more about consumption of vast quantities of food and drink than about cycling. Here, I am getting back into the groove by taking practice swings but soon began hitting balls that explode off the club face at incredible ball velocity before disappearing into a small circle of snow at the back of the range. My golf swing has been compared to a hitting machine in its consistency.
I once worked in the golf shop at a goat track of a course called Jaycee Public Golf Course. Mostly my time in the shop was spent grilling hamburgers or collecting money for green fees. At the course was a large group of 50-60 golfers who collectively made up the "Beer Box Gang". There were retirees, vacationers, night shifters, those caught between high school and what came next and just plain golf bums. A sub group of 10-12 of us played virtually every day and within this group were some colorful characters. Among them were C. Nasser, manager of the local movie theatre and who claimed to be the nephew of Gamel Nasser, former president of Egypt and R. Means, who spent time in prison for armed robbery, worked for a trash hauling service and always played golf in a shirt that bore the "You Call We Haul" promotion.
Betting was a big part of our games and it was expected if you found yourself ahead late in a round, your opponents would "press" the bet which was a doubling of the original bet. There were even presses of the press so by the time the 18th and final hole was reached, the pressure had mounted with the potential loss/gain of money. One day, I was working in the shop when Nasser and Means came walking off the 18th green with their hands around each other's throat. Tension had been building within our group because Means had gotten into Nasser for more than Nasser could ever pay. A few days passed when news hit that the theatre had been robbed and the manager beaten. Official news accounts stated that the robber had hidden in a broom closet when the theatre closed and then surprised the manager (Nasser), beat him and stole the money that had been collected that day. Police eventually apprehended the crooks who were none other than Means and his brother. Unofficially, we all believed it had been an arrangement between Nasser and Means to settle the debt. Means went back to prison and Nasser soon left the state and our group regretted losing two of our more colorful characters.
Saturday is rounding into a good day for cycling with a high now forecast for 40. Cindy has volunteered to try another ride out of New Albany, probably at 10:00am. Let me know if you think you can make it so she knows how many maps to bring.