| General Fiction posted January 13, 2023 | Chapters: |
...40 41 -42- 43... 
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E.J.'s match with Fairbanks begins
A chapter in the book Some Call It Luck
Some Call It Luck - Chapter 42
by Jim Wile
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
| Background A brilliant and beautiful but insecure, nerdy young woman befriends a going nowhere older alcoholic caddie. Together, they bring out the best in each other and collaborate on a startling new invention |
(See the Author Notes for a description of the main characters.)
Recap: At Abby’s prompting, E.J. has decided to return to school, financed by his winnings on the golf course, but he starts losing as he has developed a problem with his putting. He has just lost a match then drank heavily to settle down before he has to play bridge with Abby. The bridge doesn’t go so well, and E.J. insults one of his opponents. Abby calls him out on it, and he goes home and drinks to forget about the terrible day.
The next day he meets Eddie Phillips who helps rid him of the yips, and with his new-found confidence, E.J. challenges Jimmy Fairbanks to a match for $5,000. The night before the match, he has a sudden pang of doubt which sends him to a bar to drink with his friends. That settles him down, and he falls asleep at home.
A continuation of the chapter: E.J. Budrowski - September, 1987
I woke up the next day around 10:00 AM with only a slight headache from all that drinking last night. I knew I’d be fine by match time. I took three aspirins and decided to walk down to Maudie’s for some pancakes and coffee. By the time I got there, the fresh air and the aspirins had knocked out the headache, and I enjoyed my breakfast.
Back at home, I pulled up a loose floorboard in my closet and pulled out the box where I kept my winnings. I took out $5,000 to cover the bet in the extremely unlikely event that Fairbanks beat me.
My confidence was back, and I gave only a passing thought to my doubts from yesterday. After all, I’d probably hit a thousand putts since Eddie’s putting lesson, and I hadn’t yipped a one. I stuffed the 50 hundred-dollar bills into an envelope and placed it in a side compartment of my golf bag. I headed down to my car, stowed the clubs in the trunk, and drove over to Ridgewood Country Club.
Ridgewood was another beautiful country club in DuBois. It wasn’t quite as lavish as Brentwood but could hold its own against most other clubs in this part of the state. I stopped at the bag drop and unloaded my golf clubs, then I went into the Pro Shop to pay for my round; I knew Fairbanks wouldn’t be treating me as his guest and paying for me. I hired my own caddie too.
I made my way to the practice tee to warm up and then over to the putting green to practice putting for a few minutes. No yips—just good solid putts.
Fairbanks had arrived at the club about half an hour ago, but he never came near me and warmed up well away from where I was hitting balls. He also hit a few putts on the putting green, but again—far away from where I was putting. Apparently, he wanted as little to do with me as he could manage until the big moment when we would begin our round.
Eddie came up and watched me putt my last few and gave me a thumbs-up before we both headed over to the first tee to begin the match. It was 1:00. Fairbanks had brought along Bucky Welborn as his observer. The day was overcast, and possible thunderstorms were predicted for later.
I started right in on my wise-guy routine. “Afternoon, Jimbo, I mean, Jimmy. Bucky,” I also said as I nodded to him. Turning to Jimmy I said, “Hope you brought you’re A-game today; you’re going to need it.”
“Yeah, I could beat you with my D-game, asshole.”
“We’ll see about that. Flip you for the honors?” I said as I pulled out a quarter. “What’ll it be, heads or tails?”
“Heads.”
I flipped the coin to the ground, and it came up heads. I picked it up and reached over to give it to him with George Washington’s head still showing.
He looked at me quizzically as I held it out to him in my hand. “What’s this for?”
“Just a symbol of how you’re going to have your head handed to you today.”
He scowled at me. “In your dreams. Put that thing away, and show me your money. I ain’t playing you until I see it first.”
“Ah, Jimmy, I’m good for it.”
“I wanna see it.”
I made a big sigh and fished in my golf bag for the envelope with the $5,000 in it. I showed it to him, but he still had to pull it out and count it before he was satisfied.
“Alright, I showed you mine, now show me yours,” I said to him. He retrieved a similar envelope from his bag and let me count his money. Satisfied we weren’t going to stiff each other, he took to the tee.
Fairbanks hit a good drive—not great, but good enough—down the left side of this straightaway par-4. I really cranked one and knocked it 30 yards past his into the middle of the fairway. His eyebrows raised as he saw this drive. He was not expecting anything like that from this screw-up caddie that he still took me to be. We started down #1, Eddie and Bucky in tow. Bucky Welborn was an okay guy, but neither Eddie nor I could stand Fairbanks. Such an arrogant jerk.
Fairbanks hit his ball on the first green in two and two-putted for his par. I had stuck my short iron approach to five feet and confidently stroked it center cut, just as Eddie had taught me, for a birdie three. One up after one.
“See Jimbo—sorry—Jimmy? The slaughter has begun.” Fairbanks said nothing as we headed to the second tee. Man, this was fun!
Eddie pulled me to a stop as we neared the tee. “Listen, E.J. Take it easy on the wisecracks, will ya? It’s early yet. He’s no slouch when it comes to golf. You’re good, but he could still beat you on a good day for him. Just don’t get over-confident here.”
“Alright, Eddie. You’re right. It’s just so much fun to pull his chain.”
“There’ll be plenty of time for that after you win. Just rein it in for now.”
I hit a good drive down the middle on #2. Suitably chastised by Eddie, I didn’t say anything to Fairbanks, and he then proceeded to hit one a few yards past me. The match was on.
We didn’t say much to each other after that. He realized I was a player and that he wouldn’t have an easy time beating me. I won another hole on the front 9, but he also won two, so after 9 holes, we were all even.
My troubles began on the 10th hole, actually the 10th green. I had a four-footer to halve the hole with a par. I’d already made two or three others of about this length, and there was nothing tricky about this putt, but for some reason, I could feel a little twitch in my right hand as I contacted the ball. It was enough to send it offline to the right, and the ball rimmed the cup and stayed out. I winced. Fairbanks was now 1-up for the first time in the match.
I didn’t really begin to worry about it until it happened again on 12 when I pushed a six-footer to the right, missing the hole by four inches. I was now 2-down. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the hip flask I often carried when I played golf. I took a big swig from it in hopes it would help calm me down, then tucked it back in my pocket. The overcast sky was taking on a darker look, and it felt like rain might soon be coming.
As I joined Eddie walking to the 13th tee, I said to him, “Any suggestions?”
“Not really. Everyone misses a few putts; don’t let this get you down. You’re not out of it by a long shot.”
He tried his best to encourage me, but it was getting me down. That’s two short putts missed. I’ve got to get this under control.
“Whatsa matter, E.J? Pressure gettin’ to you? Got the yips all of a sudden?” taunted Fairbanks.
“I don’t even know what that means. Just play your game and shut up.”
E.J. Budrowski: Age 38. An alcoholic with a traumatic past (an abusive father and a mother driven to suicide) who is a caddie at Brentwood CC. One day he finds a dirty old golf ball on the edge of a pond that seems to have unusual powers, for he makes two holes-in-one with it. He and Abby become friends when she encourages him to take up both golf and bridge again after long layoffs.
Eddie Phillips: A young member at Brentwood known for his extremely good putting and ability to hustle his opponents. Eddie is friends with Abby and beats Kenny in the club championship with a miracle shot. He and Kenny become best friends after that.
Jimmy Fairbanks: A hustler whom E.J. caddied for a few weeks ago in a match against Eddie and Kenny. A drunken E.J. helped lose the match for Fairbanks and his partner, and Fairbanks fired him on the 16th hole after cursing him out.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Eddie Phillips: A young member at Brentwood known for his extremely good putting and ability to hustle his opponents. Eddie is friends with Abby and beats Kenny in the club championship with a miracle shot. He and Kenny become best friends after that.
Jimmy Fairbanks: A hustler whom E.J. caddied for a few weeks ago in a match against Eddie and Kenny. A drunken E.J. helped lose the match for Fairbanks and his partner, and Fairbanks fired him on the 16th hole after cursing him out.
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