San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1925-10-11
azi4
Will Take Up Golf.
Otherwise Be Lonesome.
The World Colf-Mad.
Roaring Forties Fall.
MIR. J. Kearns a Golfer.
By Damon Runyon


-. By Damon Runyon -
Copyright, 1925. International Feature
Service, Inc.)
As gaze about me in my de-
clining years, it seems to me that
the old familiar faces Of my immed-
late circle are not as numerous as
they used to be.
One by one they have disappear
ed from our accustomed haunts.
did not notice it much at first, but
of late months I'have come TO the
unhappy realization of the fact that
l am almost alone.
l notice it particularly OF Sun
day, Seldom do I encounter
friendly soul on the Sabbath Day.
You may conjecture that perhaps
my friends have reached that stage
of life when it dawns upon man
that he ought to do. something to-
ward his spiritual future, and have
taken to going to church, but II you
uO cO NOnJSNtuits
not know my frienGs.
1t seems to me that even on a
Saturday night when j chance to en-
counter some erstwhile bosom pal,
he has a furtive manner, and tries
to eyade me, mounting some pal
pably peurile excuse. l am almost
Stunned, and yet i have done no
recent wrong, nor have l any con-
tagious disease, as far as know.
1 am a lonely. wanderer in a
large and wicked city as the week
end comes on, n man without COM
panions yet. who loves companion
Ship. L have given the matter Sc
rious thought for some time now,
and j have finally come to a con
clusion.
/ must take up golf.
I must take up golf unless /
wish to spend the balance of my
life of week-ends wandering solitary
and alone through the streets OF
Manhattan, communing with my
self in loneliness in silent clubs,
and in cafes that also would be
silent were it not for the noise OF
the folks at their ham and cab
bage. For / have discovered the
reason for the disappearance OF my
friends. They are playing golf.
/ reached this conclusion only aft
er a severe struggle with my con-
science and my pride. For years
L have been scoffer of the golfer.
/ once served hitch in the infantry,
and on receiving my discharge took
a solemn oath to myself that never
again would / knowingly embark on
any adventure that entailed any
considerable amount Of walking.
As a result, / have economical
on shoe leather. l have had but
few pairs Of shoes in fifteen years,
and the only wear on them is on
the heels, caused by my pulling back
on them constantly against the tug
of people trying to lead me out to
play golf.
I have derided the pastime as
"cow pasture pool and meadow
marbles" and / have openly sheer
cd as my friends sat about me tell
ing how they had gone around IN
90. or some such.
Reflection convinees me that these
sneers are largely responsible for
my trends playing the duck for me.
have learned that you cannot
sheer at score OF o6, and hope to
retain the love and respect OF the
man who makes il.
l have poked fun at golf as an Old
mans game. j have in every way
made it apparent to my friends that
[ was hostile TO the diversion, and
without vcneration toward 1t. L
realize now that they were probably
secretly hating me. and, for all L
know, conniying TO have me done
AWAY with.
/ hear that this would have been
deemed justifiable homicide by any
Jury of golfers in the land.
7 never really weakened IN my
adamant attitude toward golf until
| recently discovered my friend Mr..
Arthur Bugs Bear. the greatest
humorist in this or any other coun-
try, going along Forty-eighth street,
New York. wearing short pants.
| accepted this apparel as new
lest by Mr.. Baer, and i laughed
with poor grace, though l intended
il as a tribute to his sense of hui
NOR.
In fact. Mr.. Baer scowled at me,
and went his way. and it was not
until later when j overheard him
speaking in n mashic and niblick
dialect to Mr.. Jim Redmond. the
cafe man. that the short pants
were not humor on Mr.. Baer's part,
but as deadly serious as blank
verse.
/ was greatly depressed over the
incident. / thought / could always
rely on Mr.. Baer. / went for com
fort TO Mr.. Fred Perry, one Of the
noted boulevardiers Of the Boule-
ward de Broad, a man-about-many-
towns. only to learn that he had an
engagement TO play is holes with
Mr.. Pat Casey, the vaudeville man.
The Roaring Forties have turned
TO golf. Nowadays, in the early
down, you see only the faces OF
milkmen. and strangers. The old
familiar indoor-tanned countenances
are absent as the sun Of another
day lifts over the river. You find
them on the golf courses.
Even the Manly Art OF Scram-
bling Ears has taken to golf. Mr..
Gene Tunney. the ex-Devil Dog, or
Marine, and his manager, Mr.. Will
Gibson, were among the early ex-
ponents Of the art to take brassies
in hand. They were soon followed
by Mr.. Leo Pizen Flynn. who for
sook smoker pool for golf.