Phil and I were having a good day at the old Shannon Green. Of course, it’s always a good day when you’re on the golf course. As we reached the ninth tee, I was thinking to myself that I was going to rip this drive. Why not? That was my game: hit it hard and then go find it and hit it again.

Phil had a completely different approach to the game. He was the conservative one, both in life and in golf. Don’t get me wrong, he would take chances and take charge when he needed to. He was the kind of person who exerted his influence in a benevolent but firm manner. He influenced me on the golf course by keeping me calm during the conflagrations which occurred during a normal round.

So, on this day, I ripped at the drive as always, but came across the ball a tad on the downswing and pulled it into a grove of small trees to the left of the fairway. Phil took a nice, controlled swing and hit it down the middle.

We walked toward my ball first but had some difficulty in finding it. The rough was benign but somehow the location of the ball eluded us. As we were looking for my ball, a twosome drove up to the tee and proceeded to tee off without looking to see if we had cleared the area. One of their tee balls bounded close to where Phil and I were standing. Now, most of the time, that kind of activity wouldn’t bother me too much, but, this particular day, I became incensed. I let out a few expletives in hopes that I would calm down. Phil also tried to calm me down as he always did, but today his benevolent prodding didn’t take.

As the two interlopers approach us, it was obvious that they had been drinking. They drove their cart over to the area where Phil and I were standing and only then did they realize that they had hit into us. The two were an odd pair. One was a little skinny dude with a pompadour hairdo. The other was a tall but quite rotund man with a receding hairline. The rotund one spoke first. He said, “Sorry about that. Go ahead and hit. We’ll wait.”

Under normal situations, that comment would have been enough to sooth any ruffled egos and the matter would have been closed. But, no, not for me. I said, “NO, you’re in such a hurry, go ahead and play through.”

Well, for some reason that comment incensed both of them. They let loose with a barrage of expletives which I wish I could say that I never heard before. I returned the expletives in kind, as did they in return. Phil didn’t join the fracas since he was the only sane person somehow drawn into this gridlock of idiots.

Since words weren’t working, I decided to have a sit down strike. I informed them that I was going to sit there in the middle of the rough until they played through and then I plopped down about three yards from the rotund one’s ball.

After some more choice words, the rotund one decided to hit. I was sitting close enough to his ball that it was somewhat uncomfortable for him to hit. He could have just kicked the ball away from me, but he decided to play the ball from where it had landed. He had to aim out to the right away from the green in order to clear the small trees in front of him. I guessed that he was trying to draw the ball back toward the green. He double crossed himself and instead of a draw, he hit a push slice into the parking lot of the hotel which skirted the ninth hole. The skinny one hit his ball on the green. They both jumped into their cart and headed on their way. I had never seen so many one finger salutes from the both of them as they careened up the fairway.

We waited until they cleared the green and proceeded on with our round. Phil and I never discussed the incident over the back nine. I guessed that the reason why we didn’t discuss it was that I felt like an insolent lout, and Phil, even though incensed by my actions, kept his cool and didn’t verbalize his displeasure.

Now, that’s a true friend. He could have berated me for my adolescent behavior, but, instead, he gently reminded me that I might try my magic act on the wrong person someday and end up in the hospital. Of course, he was right. A few years later, on that same hole, two golfers became involved in a similar incident at the green and one became so incensed that he drove a six iron into the other guy’s skull. I wish I could say that I changed after that, but we all know that didn’t happen.