One of my brothers-in-law has an amusing mind-trick that he uses when things are going badly on the course. He imagines that guys like us–average golfers–are the best players in the world. In other words, the shots we hit are the best that can be executed.
Just imagine if that were the case. If Steve Flesch’s delicate flip over the bunker to a couple of feet from the pin were instead a chunk into the bunker, and the announcers were saying that such a shot was perfectly understandable, and that the chances of getting the ball anywhere on the putting surface were so slim as to be not even realistic.
Even more amusing, imagine how many spectators–er, “patrons"– would be killed each year. Well, that’s not really amusing I guess. But by golly, makers of giant plexiglass walls would be raking in the dough, as they would be contracted to line the fairways to protect everyone from the “greatest golfers in the world.”
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