| General Fiction posted January 14, 2023 | Chapters: |
...41 42 -43- 44... 
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The match continues.
A chapter in the book Some Call It Luck
Some Call It Luck - Chapter 43
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.
The match begins well the next day. E.J. plays confidently with no sign of the yips yet. They are tied starting the back 9, but then E.J. falls behind after yipping two putts.
A continuation of the chapter: E.J. Budrowski - September, 1987
I missed yet another short putt on 13, and by the time we got to the 14th hole, I was 3-down. We both hit the green in two, and Fairbanks was 25 feet away, while I was 20. He putted first, and his ball stopped six inches from the cup. I conceded his par. I was a wreck now as my nerves started really getting to me. I babied my putt to two feet from the hole. I looked at Fairbanks to see if he would concede this short of a putt. He looked back at me and snorted. “The way you’ve been putting, I’m not giving you anything. Putt it.”
I walked up to my ball with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I went through the routine, but as I got over the ball, I couldn’t take the putter back. I was frozen. Eddie, at the side of the green, couldn’t even watch. I backed off the putt and started over. Same thing happened, and I backed away again. We heard the first roll of thunder then.
Fairbanks was getting impatient and said, “C’mon, hit the damn thing before it starts raining!”
I addressed the ball one last time, took the putter back, and jabbed at it with a spastic stroke. It wasn’t only my right hand that flinched; it seemed to be my whole body. The putter head stubbed into the ground behind the ball and nudged it forward three inches.
We all stood there in shock over that putt—if you could call it that. Another hole lost. I picked the ball up in anguish, and we headed for the 15th tee. I walked very slowly with my head down. I reached for the hip flask again and downed most of the rest of the liquor, but it was a little too late for it now. Nothing was going to calm me down at this point. Light rain began to fall.
Fairbanks had won four of the last five holes. I should probably say that I had lost four of the last five holes, because Fairbanks hadn’t done anything special to win them. I was now 4-down with four left to play. I needed to win every hole just to tie.
“Who’s handing who his head now, huh E.J?” taunted Fairbanks.
“Just shut up, would you, and hit?”
The 15th hole was a par-3 of 152 yards. The green was ringed with trees and had an uncanny resemblance to the old 18th green in the woods over at Brentwood where I had holed those two shots last year. Fairbanks took to the tee and hit a towering 8-iron. The shot looked good right off the clubface and soared on a high arc through the raindrops, landing in the middle of the green and rolling up to six inches just left of the hole. A majestic shot.
Fairbanks looked at me and said, “Wanna concede the match right now, asshole?”
I thought about it. I would need a hole-in-one to win the hole, and I’d still need to win the next three holes just to tie. But something in me said to keep going. Don’t concede to him. As I started toward the tee box, my hand brushed against my side and rubbed against my pocket with the Lucky 1 in it, and I had a sudden idea.
“Hell no, but I’ll concede you your two on the hole. I give you that putt. But I’m not conceding the match. In fact, I’d like to make a little side bet with you. I’ll bet you $10,000 I hole this shot. No, forget that. Let’s double that. I’ll bet you $20,000 I hole this shot.”
Everyone just stood there with mouths agape. It took a minute for that to register.
“What? You gotta be kidding!” said Fairbanks. “What’s the catch here?”
“No catch. I’ll tee the ball right here and sink this shot for $20,000.”
“I don’t believe this. You’re saying one swing from right here, ball goes in the hole, for 20 grand? Are you outta your mind?”
“Nope, that’s the bet.”
“E.J., come over here, wouldja?” said Eddie. I walked over to him.
“What the hell are you doing? Is this some sort of con? What’s the trick?”
“No trick. I really plan to sink the shot.”
Eddie just closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief as I walked back to confront Fairbanks. “My last offer,” I said to him. “20 grand to watch me hole this shot.”
“You’re on!” said Fairbanks. “I don’t believe this guy,” he said to Bucky, shaking his head.
I pulled out a 7-iron and strode to the tee. On the way, I pulled the Lucky 1 out of my pocket. I may not be able to putt right now, but I know one ball that always goes in the hole on the first shot. My confidence came roaring back, and all sense of anxiety left me. I was as calm inside as the weather was roiling now on the outside. I placed the Lucky 1 on a tee without a tremor to my hand.
Like twice before, time seemed to stop, and everything melted away except for me, the club, the ball, and the green off in the distance. It felt like a dead calm, and the wind and the rain were non-existent to me. In slow motion I took the club back to the top, paused for a brief moment, and started down. The club banged into the back of the ball, which took off high into the air. But as things started coming back into focus now, I could see the ball, which had been heading directly for the flag, start to veer to the right as the howling wind began exerting its influence. We all watched as the ball continued its downward arc, veering more and more to the right until it finally came to rest in the trees right of the green.
I was devastated! The Lucky 1 had let me down! I had lost the match right there, as well as the $20,000 side bet. I now owed Fairbanks $25,000. That represented most of the college money I had been saving. Oh my God, what had I just done?
I looked over at Fairbanks, who was grinning like a demon.
“Okay, E.J., that’ll be 25 large you owe me. You gonna pay up now?”
“I don’t have that much on me, Fairbanks.”
“Yeah, well gimme the five grand right now, and I’ll send some guys around for the rest tomorrow. You better have it.”
“Don’t sweat it; I’ve got it,” I said as I reached into my bag, retrieved the envelope containing the $5,000, and handed it to him.
He grabbed it, shook his head disbelievingly, and sneered, “God what a fool! Easiest 25 grand I ever earned.”
“You didn’t exactly earn it.”
“Yeah, well, whatever.” Then he and Welborn headed back to the clubhouse in the pouring rain. I paid my caddie, told him he did a good job and thanked him with as much cheer as I could muster, but I was dying inside. He made for the clubhouse after saying he would put my bag at the bag drop out front.
That left just me and Eddie standing there in the rain. He was speechless, which was a first for Eddie Phillips. He put his arm around my shoulder as we slowly headed back to the parking lot without saying a word. I didn’t even stop to look for the Lucky 1. It wasn’t so lucky anymore.
When I got back to my apartment, I headed straight for the cupboard, pulled down a bottle of liquor, and started drinking. Through the rest of the evening, I drank and drank as I brooded on my life right now and my future. I was miserable and anxious and depressed. I didn’t have enough money for college now, and I no longer cared even to go to college. I was a screw-up, just like my dad and everyone else used to think. As I wallowed in my misery, I downed the rest of the bottle and soon got violently ill. I barely made it to the toilet in time to spill my guts out. I sat on the floor for a long time with my head resting on my arms circling the toilet bowl. Then I pulled myself up, staggered to bed, and collapsed.
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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