The next shot resulted in a new ball flying over a fence onto a busy street. Jim, you hit a good drive, but I'm afraid your approach shot is in the bunker. I'm buying from your competitor. It's just as well, because I am horrible at doing business with golf nuts. I dread getting fax cover sheets with some lame sexist golf cartoon about a wife nagging her husband for playing too much.
Golf is a sickness, like alcoholism.
I do not speak in total ignorance. I made a respectable run at golfing beginning in college. This was merely an excuse to drink more beer and eat stale Oatmeal Pies every time we passed the Clubhouse, but it gave me a favorable initial impression of the sport. The next time I took up the game was under pressure. I was invited to join.