The only time I ever played golf I did pretty good. I was young then and fairly athletic. I hit the ball square and it went way down the fairway. Then I hit it square again and it went way down the fairway. Then I hit it again and it went over the green, over the trees, over the Expressway and into a cornfield.

After several holes of this my partner informed me you’re not supposed to hit every shot with a 3-wood.

He showed me his bag of clubs and told me what each was for. Are you kidding? I said. I’m not lugging that big elephant around all afternoon. Can’t we just play with twelve other guys, and each carry one club?