I hit the links last Thursday, solo and Sandy-free, not because I couldn’t find a playing partner, but because it’s hard to find a fellow hacker who keeps the same hours I do.
Despite the glorious, autumn weather, it turned out to be a relatively miserable round. My hopes of shooting in the 80s once again dashed after too many triple bogies penciled their way onto my scorecard.
My only shining light of the afternoon was not renewed confidence thanks to a refreshing, double Jack-and-Coke at the turn, but rather a sign at the bar that read “Trivia 7 pm!” Despite my late tee time, I would most certainly be done with my round by then.
And I was.