I love golf, but there are days when golf doesn’t love me back. There are days when golf hates me the way cats hate a bath, the way pigeons hate a clean statue, the way Olbermann hates Limbaugh and everyone hates Olbermann.
Those are the kind of days when you need a scoring pencil with two erasers. The kind of days when even the hand-wedge can’t get you out of a trap. Days when “bogie”...