Well, not as much as I once did

by Jimmy Johnson

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I don’t really have anything against golf, but when you mention playing golf, some people tend to write you off as, well, a “golfer.” Therefore, as usual, I equivocate. My brother Vic and I are terrible players, but we love to go out on the beautifully manicured ecological monstrosity that isĀ our nearby golf course and whack the ball around, talk, laugh and pretend to get really upset about things that don’t matter at all, like missing a 14-inch putt. OK, sometimes we really do get upset, but we’re not real golfers. Well, maybe we are.

My point is, the last time we played we were rained out on the 11th hole. Was I upset? No, because my vegetable garden was being watered! I was reminded of an old Peanuts Sunday strip, when Charlie Brown is saying that the secret to happiness is to own a convertible and a lake. When the sun shines, you ride around in your convertible, and when it rains you say, “It’s filling up my lake.” Of course, that was easy for Charles Schulz to say.

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