As it disappeared into Shooters pocket, it was the last time Stickers would ever see his $20. I am sure he had it out of his wallet and said his goodbye's early, perhaps before the turn.
On Wednesday morning The Shooters phone dings, its a message from Singlets, apparently he has already thrown the balls up at home and it would be Stickers and Singlets vs El Cabron (formerly The Yank) vs Shooter. Singlets is trying to get on the Stickers band wagon, Stickers has been practising for a month given he has no work to do, the results have been a little impressive too.
The stage is set, Shooter gets to the course a little later than usual, Stickers is pounding 2 piece surlyn practice balls into the lake carefree, working on the new swing path and concentrating on delivering the club not only slightly shallower but with more attention on the strike as opposed to the mechanics. He surely has a lot going on in his head on game day. More theories, more practice balls, more movements and more to think about, another normal day for Stickers.
By the time Stickers is on his 3rd range bucket, Singlets makes an entrance, the clouds have parted and he hobbles over to the range. Not sure what part is hurting the most yet, chest, neck, shoulder, knee, meniscus or foot. Couple of slow and tentative swings and it seems he is back. El Cabron is last to arrive and we head to the tee.
Usual handicap war is settled quickly and its off to the races. Singlets and Stickers both make soft bogies on 1 while Shooter and El Cabron make nice birdies, 1 up.
Singlets stumps it on 2 for his first birdie of the day, only to be halved with a nice 3 nett 2 from El Cabron. Then, El Cabron makes another birdie on 3 with a shot. The first "fuck me" of the day is uttered by Singlets. 2 up.
Singlets thins his bunker shot on 4 over the back into the jungle, I'm sure that's the second "fuck me" of the tday. He leaves it to Stickers to try and salvage something, Stickers makes bogey, failing to get it up and down from the rough on the left hand side of the green. Shooter makes birdie after flushing a 3 iron 216 into a slight wind to 40 feet and casually 2 putting. 3 up. Shooter birdies the next from 92 meters and holing a 8 footer. 4 up. I think Stickers is reaching for his wallet about now.
Singlets makes 4 net 3 on 8 for the win, got it up and down from 20 short to do it as well, nice job. 3 up.
Stickers makes a nice 4 net 3 down 9 to win the hole as well, fuck me says Shooter, these boys might want a match now, that will be a change. 2 up at the turn.
On the way to 10 tee, El Cabron says that he thinks those two choppers might make a run for the back 9. I told him not to worry, we are 2 up and they have to get past Shooter first though don't they ! I think he was comforted by that.
Stickers puts the pressure on by knocking it to 30 feet, Singlets chips it to 4 feet, they register 2 pars. They should know by now that you cant give The Shooter a chance, Shooter holes it for birdie from 5 feet. 3 up. El Cabron claps silently.
Holes 11, 12 and 13 are halved in pars, still 3 up, Shooter needs to end this and put these two out of their misery, they have tried their best. Shooter hits another 3 iron 227 pin high right on 14 and gets it up and down for birdie 4, Stickers makes 5 and looks at Singlets who is sitting in the cart after picking his ball up and shrugs his shoulders, he knows he can do no more. 4 up.
El Cabron makes 4 net 3 down 15 to really slam it into them rough. It is rumoured that that is the way Singlets likes it.
Now the dream team have the front and the match. The soulmates are looking at a sweep and a demoralising loss. They are dormie 3 now and perhaps it was fitting that El Cabron makes 5 net 4 to halve 16 to take the back 9 and claim the win.
The last 2 are played in good spirits as good manners dictate. On the 18th green Stickers releases the lobster from the leather and says "well played" What a sportsman he is, they were never ahead, never in the hunt, never fancied by centrebet and were completely out gunned.
El Cabron and Shooter sent them off to lick each others wounds, now no one wants to see that.
El maquina Shooter out