Lucky Eddie : Lucky Eddie - Chapter 5 by Jim Wile |
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
(See the Author Notes for the definition of any golf terminology used as well as a description of the main characters.)
Recap: The story is narrated by Kenny. Eddie arranges a match with he and Kenny against two prospective members of the club. Kenny is reluctant because he senses they are hustlers, but Eddie, knowing they are hustlers, has plans of his own to hustle them. They begin the match the following day, and the bet is $2,000. By the end of the third hole, the match is even. By the end of the ninth hole, Kenny and Eddie are 3-down and Eddie assures a doubting Kenny and Abby that it’s going according to plan. Eddie spikes a coke to give to E.J. who is caddying for his opponents in hopes he will start screwing up and costing his opponents some holes. On the 10th hole, Eddie fakes a sprained ankle and convinces the opponents to let Kenny hit all the long shots and he would just putt on the remainder of holes. They agree.
They start their comeback as Eddie sinks putt after putt and Kenny continues with his great shot-making. After accepting Eddie’s proffered flask of rum and downing it, E.J. begins messing up and costs Fairbanks and Welborn a hole. The match is now even with three holes to go.
The 16th was a shortish, dogleg-right par-4 and not a handicap hole, meaning we had a decent chance of actually going up in the match. It was a tight hole, though, with a narrow fairway, deep rough, and trees both left and right. Accuracy with the tee shot was imperative because the approach was to a tiny green with a huge bunker on the left. I asked Gary for my 3-iron, planning to lay up to the corner of the dogleg 130 yards out from the green. The shot came off as planned, and I lay safely in the fairway.
Welborn, who had been hitting first for their team since the start of this nine, blasted his driver deep into the trees on the right. It was not his style to use anything but driver, and it cost him dearly on this and several other holes. He decided to hit a provisional ball with almost the same result. Fairbanks was a much smarter player, but still fuming from the previous loss of hole, he also (unwisely) took his driver to let out some of his anger. His plan was to hit a long fade around the dogleg and hopefully end up with just a short pitch to the green, but the ball didn’t fade, and instead went through the dogleg and deep into the rough on the left side of the fairway. Eddie quickly sized up another opportunity and bounded off in his cart to look for Fairbanks’s ball. Except for Eddie, we all went searching for Welborn’s balls, but after 5 minutes we gave up, having found neither. Welborn was out of the hole; it was now up to Fairbanks (again). Eddie was still driving back and forth in his cart, looking for Fairbanks’s ball. Unbeknownst to us, he had actually found it 30 yards back from where he was currently looking. We all spread out and started helping Fairbanks look for it. Eddie positioned his cart close to E.J. and drove in such a way as to guide him in the true direction of the ball. As E.J. got close to it, Eddie asked him, “Hey, E.J., you got that flask I gave you? I’d kinda like it back, ‘cause it belonged to my grandfather and all.” E.J. started digging in his back pocket for the flask, and thus distracted and not paying particular attention to where he was walking, he swayed a little and stepped on something hard. “Wha’ wazzat?” he said as he bent down to see what he had stepped on. And there was Fairbanks’s ball, now partially embedded in the soft earth. We called the rest over to explain what had happened. Under these circumstances, Fairbanks was to be levied a 1-stroke penalty because, under the Rules of Golf, if a player or his caddie moves a ball, the player is to be assessed a one stroke penalty, and the ball must be replaced into its original lie. Fairbanks was apoplectic. “God damn you, E.J. What the fuck’s a matter with you?” It was then that he spotted the hip flask still in E.J.’s hand. This set him off in a new tirade. “You goddamn drunken fool, I’ll kill you, you stupid shit!” He raised his club and started after E.J., planning to bash his head in until I stepped in his way and grabbed his arm with the club in it. “Come on, Fairbanks. He didn’t do it on purpose. Leave him alone!” He shook me off. “You’re fuckin’ fired!” he hollered at E.J. “Drop those bags and get the hell out of here, ya fuckin’ drunk!” E.J. looked around at all of us, then set the bags down without a word. I could barely keep a straight face. He straightened the grungy sports jacket he was wearing, and with as much dignity as he could muster, he turned around and lurched off in the direction of the clubhouse. Fairbanks dug out his partially embedded ball and proceeded to smooth the ground and replace it into its original lie as best we could determine. He was so rattled by this point that his third shot sailed 20 yards over the green into deep rough behind. I hit a beautiful wedge shot to six feet. When we got to the green, Eddie didn’t even bother getting out of the cart. We found Fairbanks’s ball nestled up against a tree in the deep rough behind the green, now lying three. He took one look at it and picked it up, conceding the hole. We had finished 16 holes, and Eddie and I were now ahead for the first time in the match. We all made our way over to the 17th tee. Welborn took Fairbanks aside for a couple of minutes to try to settle him down. They were 1-down in the match, and this was not supposed to be happening. Welborn pointed out that 17 and 18 were both stroke holes for them, so they had a distinct advantage. As he continued to try to calm Fairbanks down, I walked over beside Eddie’s cart. “Hey, Sport, you’re doing great! Just hang in there for two more holes,” he said to me. “Thanks. Any more tricks up your sleeve, Eddie? We just lost one of the key elements in your plan, and we’re facing two stroke holes.” “We’ll see, Sport, we’ll see.” We ended up losing the 17th hole when my approach shot missed the green by six inches, meaning I had to putt the first one since we were not on the green yet as the rules we had made stipulated. Eddie probably would have made it if he had the chance to putt it, but I missed. The match was now all square going into the final hole. To be continued...
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