Chapter 19

SUPER SLAM ROLLS ON!

The course is a Par 72, for a total of 6,728 yards long.

The first hole (396 yards-Par 4) was a dogleg left, so I pulled my four-wood out and cut the corner. I outdistanced everyone by 40 yards.

“Wow!” was the response from the guys as I gave back my club to my wife.

“What I could have done with that swing,” Johnny said wistfully. “No wonder they call you the Cannon!”

“It was Adam Scott, who gave me that nickname, Johnny,” I said as we walked to the first of the hit balls. It was Brads.

He hit a nice screamer rolling it on the green just barely. Next up was JM, who took a fairway metal wood and stroked it, left of the green. A few steps ahead, was Mike’s shot. He laced an iron to the back of the green.

Fifteen strides further was my shot. With 80 yards to go, I got a lob wedge and hit it pin high ... three feet from the pin.

“Fellas,” Johnny said, “This is going to be a lesson in humility today!”

“How do you get so much speed behind the ball?” Brad asked.

“I am left handed, but my Dad switched me. My club head speed was once 221, but that was before my back spasms began. I really do need to get that calibrated again,” I said.

“Mine was 166 in the day,” Johnny mentioned wistfully.

We all got to the green. I made my birdie ... the rest of them made par.

The second hole was a Par-four at 304 yards long. It was slightly downhill and straight as a hole I have come across in a while.

With the honors, I said, “two-iron, please,” to my pretty caddy.

“Is he laying up?” I heard Mike question.

Cory was quick and adamant saying, “The Cannon ... never lays up!”

When the round was over, I shot a 60 with Brad coming in second with a 65. Mike had putting woes ending with a 68. Johnny had a par 72.

I treated everyone to a late lunch.

“So, you still have your eyes focused on the Grand Slam?” Mike asked.

Cory replied, “We have our eyes on the Super Slam. That’s the Grand Slam ... plus the Players and Travelers tournaments.”

“Really?” Brad replied.

“Except for the British Open in Muirfield ... we have played similar courses before,” Cory said.

“You have never played a Links course before?” Mike asked.

“No, Sir ... we have plans to fly over there right after the Travelers to learn all we can,” I said.

“If you can, talk to Ernie Els or Nick Faldo about it. They have both won it there before,” Mr. Miller suggested.

“Will do that, Sir,” I answered.

Mike jumped in saying, “Cannon ... you have the best all-around game I have ever seen! It’s no wonder that you have won every Tournament you entered. Try to take the time to enjoy yourself.”

“I will make sure he does,” Cory said grabbing my hand.

“We have got to go. We’re waiting for a call to make some Vivint TV commercials while we’re still here in Utah ... thanks for the game!” I said getting up and shaking everyone’s hand.

We got the call from Todd ... they were ready to make some commercials. They said to dress in golf clothes, so we did ... happy we had brought the clubs. We showed back up at the facility we were at previously.

We got out and met the crew that was there to film us. Todd walked up and said, “I have talked to Steven Carley, CEO of Red Robin. He’d said that you had great ideas ... thought of any?”

I walked over to in front of the camera brought my wife and Bertha along. Todd told the camera people to be ready.

I was pointed at and began.

“My name is Johnny Masters. I play golf ... but when I am playing at Augusta, Georgia or Pebble Beach, California, I breathe easier. Why? Because I have a Vivint Home Security System in my home in Loveland, Colorado. I breathe easier ... so should you!”

“CLEAR”

Todd started, and they all added to the applause. I gave my lady a kiss.

“That was a perfect 20-second spot, Johnny!” one of the film crew said.

“I knew you were the one to be our spokesman,” Todd said with a bit of emotion on his face.

We proceeded to make nine additional spots, including one where I had taken my loft wedge and softly chipped, lofting a ball into my caddy’s hand, and together we said, “It’s as easy as a chip shot to realize how comfortable you can be as a Vivint customer.”

They all commented on how relaxed we seemed in front of a camera. I told them of my relationships with David Feherty and Kelly Tilghman. Well, not everything?

Walking away from the crowd with just Todd and my wife, Todd spoke, “I am sorry for your mother’s loss ... when you get back from the Travelers, we will discuss exactly what you want in your home. If the meantime, for peace of mind, we can put a ‘quick and dirty system’ on your place covering the doors and windows.”

“That’s a great idea ... we will want a complete video presence as well ... covert, as much as possible. The idea of a zero-electric bill also sounds interesting,” I said.

“Most people who get our Solar Systems, don’t have a zero bill,” Todd expressed. “With the sunlight you get each year you will likely be selling power to Xcel Energy. As much as $100 a month or more.”

“Wow!” Cory and I said together.

“Can we film the installation when we do it?” Todd asked.

“Sure, that sounds like a blast. Wait until you meet ou ... my mother,” I said.

“Be sure to wear your wedding ring, Todd,” my caddy added. “Mrs. Masters is looking for ... affection. I am not completely sure if a wedding ring would stop her.”

We all laughed at that ... I gave her a look.

We headed back to our hotel, horny enough to make love a few times.

Cory was really enjoying me doing the work. I started munching on her hairless pussy. She ‘giggle-screamed’ a little ... I don’t know how else to describe it. She returned the favor, eager to take my entire hard dick down her throat.

When I got on top of her and put myself inside her ... my phone rang. It was Mom, due to the ringer tune of ‘Follow the Yellow Brick Road,’ which Cory helped me figure out how to do. I let it go to voice mail, as I fucked my little sister hard, deep and fast.

After we were done, I grabbed the phone and called her. Cory was licking off my dick as we connected.

“Hey Mom, sorry I missed your call. Has Dr. John been over yet?” I teased.

“As a matter of fact, he just left. He stayed ... over last night?” she said.

“Oh, well ... that’s progress! Did he make sure that ‘everything was working?’

“Yes, he did ... he personally gave me a complete inspection ... inside and out,” she remarked. “We’re going out to dinner tomorrow night. I hope you approve, Johnny?”

“Approve? I ... we both think that’s incredible. A doctor in the family would have its advantages,” I said.

“Yes, it would. You wouldn’t have to hear me scream when I have my multiple orgasms anymore,” she said trying to shock me.

I told her about the Vivint guy coming to install a simple system. She told me that he had called already and was coming over in the morning. I got her up to speed about our commercials we’d made. She sounded eager to see them.

I came inside my sister’s mouth, right after I ended the call. She climbed in next to me ... we cuddled and fell asleep.

We got up, showered together and were hungry enough to find a place to eat. Cory grabbed her laptop and Google-searched for restaurants in the area. We usually find a place from the first page of listings. I wanted her to look farther, as I peered over her shoulder ... occasionally kissing her neck.

We passed by the Red Robin, which was on page six of the listings ... I stopped her at a Chuck-A-Rama listing, and she clicked on it. It looked like a great spot. We drove the 13 miles ... it was jumping with the sounds of plates and people.

We got in line and looked up at the entrée menu. It’s broken down by day. Being Friday, we had the choice of Baked Alaskan White Fish, Fried Breaded Fish Fillets, Seafood Newburg, Shrimp Creole, Tuna Bake, Clam Chowder, Fried Shrimp and Coconut Fried Shrimp ... I was salivating already. We got up to the young lady with a nametag that said Alice.

“Howdy, what would you folks like to eat?”
,
I ordered the Coconut Fried Shrimp and the Salad Bar. My lovely companion ordered the Shrimp Creole, also with the Salad Bar. I paid with cash and we looked for a place to sit.

The place was twice the size of any Red Robin we’d been in. So, we took our trays to a table and went to the buffet area. We hadn’t been to a buffet place in a very long time. We had a nearby Golden Buffet when we lived in Pahrump. We both filled our plates and sat back down. Mom would enjoy this place. Dr. John probably wouldn’t approve of the high-calorie things on our plates.

We went back to get our salad and got to our bench tables. Other folks joined us as we talked and ate in this marvelous family atmosphere. It didn’t take long...

“Haven’t I seen you on TV before?” the father of the family said to me.

“If you watch golf, you probably have,” I said putting down my utensil. “I’m Johnny Masters!”

“See, I thought he was somebody famous,” his lovely wife joined.

“I just play golf. This is my wife Cory,” I said as humbly as I could.

“You just play golf?” the father said. “Kids,” he said to get the attention of his entire family, “This here fellow is the Cannon ... he’s the only guy I watch, every chance I get. He can drive the ball over 400 yards with his Bertha driver. It is very much my honor to meet you, Johnny Masters!” he put out his hand, and we shook. “We’re the Russell’s. My name is Richard, my wife Rachel ... and our three kids, are Rich Junior, Randall and Raelyn.”

His 15-year-old son Randall added, “And Johnny has got the hottest caddy on the tour!”

That caused Cory to blush a little, saying, “Thank you very much.”

We continued eating as I asked Richard if he played golf.

“Johnny, I played as a younger man, but I never got any good. I have been watching TV since Jack retired. I have seen Tiger come and go. I got excited again as you came along. You are a real joy to watch ... you don’t have a weak part of your game that I have seen.”

Cory jumped in saying, “Sometimes he swings too hard. I have to keep him in control.”

“I have made a bet with a bunch of my buddies that you will win the Grand Slam ... all four Majors. I got eight to one odds. Most of them think Tiger will win one and Rory McIlroy will win one.”

“How much did you wager, Sir?” I asked perfunctorily.

“Five Thousand Dollars ... I win Forty Big Ones if you win all four!” he said.

“Richard! You didn’t tell me that you bet that much?” Rachel said.

Cory and I received our entrées. It smelled so wonderful. The Russell’s were leaving. We said good-bye without standing up.

We dove into our meals, as a server cleaned up from the Russell’s saying, “They come here all the time. I hope they didn’t bother you, Mr. Masters?”

“No, I love talking to our fans Alice. Could you get me about 40 of your cardboard drink holders?” I asked.

“Yes Sir, I most certainly will,” she said.

She came back with them, saying, “Could I get the first one, Johnny?”

“Absolutely!” I answered.

She was called over, as someone had seen me writing something. In a matter of moments, persons of all ages, shapes and sizes were coming up to Cory and me as we started the autograph portion of the evening. We were quickly out of them, but Alice noticed, and brought us many more.

We were allowed to take the occasional bite of food, but we got through them all. We finished up our late lunch when a nice gentleman walked up to us with an envelope.

“Mr. and Mrs. Masters, thank you for visiting Chuck-A-Rama tonight. In the envelope are enough gift certificates to cover your meal. If you come again, we will comp your food. You are my favorite golfer of all time. Thanks again!”

We grabbed an ice cream cone and left, having met a wonderful slice of humanity that night. I am just as hopeful as Richard was to win the Grand Slam. I’m glad I can’t wager, because I would likely always lose the money.

By the time we got up the next morning, the first of our Vivint ads was on the air. My habit on the road is to turn on the TV after I wake up. Coming from the shower drying off, our first ad appeared. After Cory came out from her fresh coloring, she smiled at it as well.

“You look so good on TV,” I told her.

RING... ‘Follow the Yellow Brick Road’

“Hey Mom, how do you like the ad?”

“Wonderful Johnny ... you look so comfortable doing it. When I was there, watching the filming of your Wheaties ad, you tensed up. You are much better these days.”

“Is that what Dr. John said?”

“I am not the kind to kiss and tell, young man!”

“It must be good, if you are calling me young man again,” I said.

“He doesn’t want to replace your father, but it does seem to be getting more serious rather quickly,” she said.

“Please don’t get married until we’re back to Loveland. I plan on giving you away!” I said.

“When do you leave for Florida?” she asked.

“Later today ... call us when the system has been installed. That will probably only take a day. Make sure Dr. John knows about it.”

“Oh you ... have a great time, I love you both ... you know that?”

“Sure do beautiful. Take care of yourself. Give our best to your beau,” I said hanging up.

We landed at the airport, rented a VW from Hertz, and drove the 30 miles to our hotel, the Residence Inn in the pleasant community of Ponta Vedra Beach.

Staying at the same hotel, we found Matt Kuchar ... last year’s champ, Hunter Mahan, and Charl Schwartzel. They were coming in from practicing.

“Darn,” Hunter said, “I was looking forward to having a chance to win, but the Cannon is here. I guess we’re all playing for second place now!”

“It’s funny you would say that, Hunter. I have never felt better. My shoulders feel great ... I would guess that my club speed is back up to over 200 again, maybe even 250,” I said with a straight face, leaving with my girl.

In the elevator, she said, “That was brilliant, lover ... you are getting better at the head games.”

“It was these same guys who have been doing it to me. I needed to get some payback. We probably only have time to hit a bucket or two,” I explained.

The Players Championship used to be called the Tournament Players Championship, played first in Marietta, Georgia, in 1974. This year it is at the TPC Sawgrass.

We got there and walked over to the Practice Range. Between the player’s practicing, we saw Mark Corrigan from Titleist. We shook hands.

“I was hoping I’d see you here, Johnny. I am giving anyone who wants a free Club head speed ... how about it, no one has come near your 221 ball-speed?”

“Sure,” I said, practice swinging a few times.

“Like last time, use your two-iron first, Johnny,” Mark said.

A crowd was forming. Cory leaned over and said, “No Mercy,” telling me I could swing all out.

Mark was ready ... Cory put a ball down; I addressed it and swung nice and easy.

“100 Club head speed... 114 ball speed... 1.011 Smash Factor,” Mark said reading his devices. “Once again with that same club, please? Full out, John, if that’s OK with your wife?”

I got a ball, put it on a nice tuff of grass, settled in ... and swung!

“Holy Shit,” came from the crowd, multiple times.

“118 Club head speed... 148 ball speed... 1.394 Smash Factor,” Mark said reading his devices. “You seem to have recovered,” Mark said in a moment of understatement.

“Bertha!” “Use Bertha!” Yeah, show them Johnny,” came from the crowd of fans.

I paused for a moment, turned to the crowd and said, “You want me to use Bertha?”

“Yeah!” “Damn right!” “Attaboy!”

“Do you want me to swing as hard as I can?”

This time as a group they screamed “YEAH!”

I saw the look on Cory’s face. Mark was set up, ready for me. A few of the guys stopped their practicing long enough to watch. Come on Johnny, show them ... show them all ... that you still got it.

I looked down and saw that Cory had teed up a ball for me.

“How far is that netting back there?” I asked.

“Over 500 yards,” I heard a voice.

“Cory ... Bertha, please?”

A chorus of ‘Cannon ... Cannon ... Cannon,” pervaded the immediate area.

I addressed the ball, locked my grip in, and swung as hard as I knew how.

“It hit the net ... holy god ... it hit the net, five hundred and fifty yards away,” I heard Adam Scott’s voice ring out. “We’re going to need a bigger golf course!”

That broke up the crowd into laughter and cheers, then Mark stood and read, “168 Club head speed... 251 Ball speed... 1.888 Smash Factor, those numbers are all-time records!”

That night on the Golf Channel, they were discussing my numbers. Kelly was amazed that Frank Nobilo and Tim Rosaforte couldn’t agree on where I got my club head speed. Frank was arguing that I must be working out too much trying to be the longest on the regular tour. Tim was defending my Dad turning me into a righty as a kid, insisting that singularly made me a better-than-average golfer.

There was a remote interview, involving Adam, who, when asked about it, said, “I met Johnny when he first came out on the tour. While impressed, I wasn’t sure of his game. After seeing what I saw today, all the courses need to add yardage ... Now!”

My phone rang ... it was Mom!

“That Adam Scott is such a nice boy, Johnny ... don’t you think?”

“Mom, I didn’t have any good friends growing up, besides Cory, you, and Dad. I consider Adam my best friend. I plan on telling him that ... after the tournament!”

She laughed as I handed the phone to Cory, to let them talk for a while. I ran to the bathroom, washed some water in my face and looked at myself in the mirror.

I stripped and put on some trunks. Cory came in and silently walked out to do the same. With towels over our shoulders, we headed downstairs to the hot spa.

After getting some ribbing for my gamesmanship prior to the Titleist statistics, we settled into a very comfortable time.

“Cory, tell me about last year’s tournament, will you please?” I asked with my eyes closed.

“KJ Choi beat avid Toms in a tie breaker, after playing four rounds in 13 under.”

“All right, anything else?”

“Matt was second in Strokes Gained-Putting per round at 8.36 per round, he tied for third in GIR at 73.6% and he tied for 37^th in Driving Accuracy. To compare that to your best tournament to date, you had 12.33 Strokes Gained, you were first in GIR at 94.4% and eighth in Driving Accuracy.”

“Cool,” I said.

“Besides all of that, only Tiger has had better Vardon Trophy numbers, with a 67.79 average in 2000 and 2007. You don’t play enough rounds of golf in a year to qualify for that, you need to have 60 rounds of golf, or 15 tournaments to get that. Your accumulative average is 67.81.”

“You know that I don’t play for records and trophies. You are the only trophy I want ... come here and kiss me?” she walked over and put a set of lips on mine that felt really good...

“HEY, none of that ... there are children watching!” the voice of Matt Kuchar said. “Can I join you?”

“Yeah, not a problem, Matt. We were going over the stats you had last year when you won. What kind of shape was the course in, in 2011?”

“About the same. They replaced all the sand in all the bunkers since last year ... I don’t know why. I always thought sand was sand,” he said. “I don’t expect to repeat, not with you in the field, Johnny.”

“Don’t try to con a con man Matt, you are a great golfer! At 34, you are hitting your stride. I am just a punk 20-year-old that has a fast swing and a hot girl.”

That got me a shoulder slap from Cory.

“Yeah, but I have taken over 12 years to win my six tournaments, while you have three already, with a Masters & PGA Championship thrown in,” Matt said.

“Point taken, Matt ... if you want to win this year, you will need better scores than last year,” I promised.

“I realize that, want to practice together tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds like fun ... need to learn the course, before I shoot my next 59!”

“You think you could do that at this course?” he said.

“I attempt that at every course we play, Matt ... see you at 9am?”

“Yeah, see you then ... bye Cory,” he said.

We got out, and got in the elevator where I said, “Cory ... find out if they really changed the sand or not ... I am not sure, but he may have been screwing with me.”

“Speaking of screwing, I am kind of horny Cannon!” she said grabbing me by my balls.

By morning, we had a nice rest, after a naked woman attacked me. She stripped me, and stuck my dick all the way inside her mouth, waiting for me to fill her throat ... which I did ... several times.

Then she crawled up on top of me, and she used my amazingly hard dick as her personal full-sized dildo.

She was dropping on me repeatedly, asking, “Are you ready to cum yet” with every drop of her pussy over my dick. She must have dropped herself forty times, before I held her down and filled her with the warmth, she so badly wanted from me. She got up and off me, licking me clean as we both fell asleep.

We took a shower together in the morning, only kissing a little, and got to the course at 8:45am.

We ran into Matt and his caddy, as we did our usual practice routine. He saw me swinging a club both right-handed and left.

“Why do you do that, John?” he asked.

“Remember my back spasms from before? Well, I found out that swinging both directions will help me keep from getting those spasms again. Both shoulders get an equal amount of stretching and relaxation,” I explained.

Cory whispered to me, “They did replace all the sand, something about clumping when it rains. The new sand drains twice as fast.”

“Thanks, beautiful,” I answered. “Hey Matt, I had Cory check. The new sand is supposed to drain better when it rains. Thanks for the tip!”

“Sure John ... no problem ... I am not one of those guys who tries to zone others out. I am the ninth graduate from Georgia Institute of Technology to get on the PGA Tour. Bobby Jones went there ... that’s why I did,” he explained.

“Wow, I didn’t know that!” I honestly responded. “Anybody joining us?”

“If you don’t mind! I found some guys who wanted to play,” he said.

I saw walking out from the Pro-shop Phil and Tiger.

“Now that’s what I call a foursome!” Cory said as we all shook hands.

“Matt says that you are shooting a 59 this week,” Phil said.

With the gauntlet laid down, I said, “If you’d like I could do it today instead?”

Tiger and Phil broke into big smiles, with Tiger saying, “Save it for the tournament, Cannon. After hearing about your new and improved Club Head speed, I wanted into this foursome today.”

“Will today’s Dream Foursome, please report to the first tee?”

Players and visitors alike clamored for position behind the first tee. I saw David there, raising his hand to say ‘Hi!’.

“We have been set up, Cory!” I said looking at my peers.

“It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” Phil said slapping my shoulder.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN ... ON THE TEE TODAY ARE FOUR OF GOLF’S GREATS!”

“Originally from San Diego, 42 years old, six foot three ... Phillip Alfred Mickelson!”

The crowd made an awesome noise, as he grabbed a long iron, teed up his ball ... settled and swung, sending it to the edge of this dogleg right hole. He cut it perfectly.

Another great cheer from the crowd. He doffed his cap and smiled to us all.

“Born ELDRICK TONT WOODS ... in Cypress California, 37 years-old, six foot one ... Tiger Woods!”

He’s been playing so well lately ... he’s a real danger to my Super Slam!

The crowd loves him again, and they voiced their approval. He took a fairway wood, swinging it ultra-smooth and turned the corner past Phil. The crowd was lively.

“LAST YEARS WINNER OF THE PLAYERS CHAMPIONSHIP,” born in Winter Park Florida, six feet four inches tall and 34 years-old ... Matthew Gregory Kuchar!”

This crowd loved him as well. He took a single practice swing, then approached his teed-up ball with an iron. Settling, he addressed it and ended up rolling into the long bunker just off the right side of the fairway.

Despite the tough luck of that, the crowd yelled giving him support.

“THE FOURTH OF OUR DREAM TEAM is a young man who has won every tournament he’s entered as a professional. He’s originally from Pahrump, Nevada. At five-foot ten inches tall, he is officially the Fastest Swing in the West! Put your hands together for John Masters, Junior!”

Immediately, a chant began, “Cannon, Cannon, Cannon” repeating until I said, “Cory ... would you please hand me Bertha.” With that the chant stopped as quickly as it started.

“How long is this hole today?” I asked.

“Three hundred and ninety-two yards,” a single voice behind me said. I turned and it was David, giving me a thumbs up!
I teed up a ball, gripped the club as usual and addressed the ball. The mass of people behind me went dead quiet. I knew my direction from pouring over this on the Internet for the last few days.

I swung ... not as hard as I did for Mark, but good and hard. With one bounce, it got on the green with less than three feet for an eagle!

Before the rest of the crowd got loud, I heard Phil and Tiger say together, “Aaawh, shit!”

When all done, I shot a 60. Tiger had a hard fought 64, Phil a 65 and Matt a par 72. He was in the bunkers at least five times and wasn’t scrambling very well.

I treated the gang, including their caddies to lunch.

“I can’t believe how hard I worked today and only got a 64,” Tiger said at our table. The other caddies joined us making their day.

“Tiger,” Matt said, “to be honest, I was watching Johnny here more than I was thinking about my own game.”

“Me too,” Phil said, “he has got the all-around game that I have never seen before.”

“Yeah, he can drive the ball, has a short game as good as Jacks ever was ... and when he gets on the green ... he at no time had more than a twenty-footer ... all day,” Tiger said. “Cory,” he raised his voice to get her attention, “What was his average putt length today ... do you keep that stat?”

She responded, “His longest putt was about 17 feet. He had six holes, four feet and shorter. He had 11 one-putts.”

“Nobody is that good, is there a robot underneath your skin, Cannon?” Phil asked with a chuckle.

“Nope! Thanks for your accolades. You are forgetting my secret weapon ... Cory. She’s been reading greens for me for a very long time. Change of subject ... My Mom is dating a Doctor!”

They all enjoyed that bit of news. I didn’t expound past that, but it got the subject off yours truly. After lunch, we all split with Cory coming back to sit by me. “They certainly admire you, don’t they?” she said.

“I had something of a charmed round today, never not in the fairway, every hole in regulation. No water or bunkers. I can’t expect that to happen for four days straight,” I said.

“Maybe not, but these are your peers ... and they respect your ability ... now respect them back,” she remarked. “No more head games. Let me be your caddy and your Jiminy Cricket ... and ‘Always let your conscience be your guide!’“

We left, back to our hotel. I was both hungry and tired ... tired won. We cuddled for a while, with Cory in front of me, humming that silly song, ‘Give a Little Whistle,’ she quoted from earlier.

THE PLAYERS CHAMPIONSHIP
YARDAGE 7,215
The first day of the Players Championship was electric! ESPN was quoting the Las Vegas Odds for the top-tier players. I was even money, Tiger was two to one and Matt was four to one.

Thursday’s pairings were interesting ... the PGA likes to put previous winners together, and sometimes ... if there is an issue between two players, they get bold and pair them up.

Also, after my JMI Tournament, the Players have the next largest total purse... $9.5 million... $1.71 million for first.

Matt, Tiger, and I are paired today ... should be interesting!

We tee off at 10:30 ... last of the day.

Cory and I were practicing as my good buddy David Feherty came up to talk.

“Cannon, just wonderin’ ... playing the course or playing Tiger and Matt?” he asked with that wicked grin he often gets on his face.

“Didn’t you learn never to ask a question you already knew the answer to?” I responded.

“I figured as much ... I am rooting for ya boyo!”

“Thanks David ... you are a good friend. My mother wanted me to tell you that she’s dating again. She’s sorry that she’s probably broken your heart,” I said.

“I understand ... a fine lassie like her needs a companion to count on, I am often told that I am a scalawag!” he responded.

“I never used those specific words, but I agree,” I said.