The outfit was tour quality.
Flashy white shoes Matt Kuchar would be proud to wear, which complemented the navy pants Sergio Garcia has certainly worn, to go along with a Masters double of a blue-striped shirt and a matching blue hat.
Too bad it wasn’t a fashion show. It was just golf with me, which, in addition to not being a fashion show, is also not a pleasure cruise. Yet here we were on a Tuesday at Belmar Golf Club in Norman for Steely’s first outing in more than two years to a legitimate, 18-hole, real-life, not-a-par-3, course. What a treat, and Mike didn’t lose a bet. He actually chose to play with me.
And I shoulda dressed better. If it was match-play I’d have been 1-down before we even got to the first tee. I mean, I feel like my look was pretty OK, but comparably I looked slovenly while my playing partner looked like he could have been a golfing “James Bond” villain – dashing and dangerous.
Doesn’t matter if Steely hadn’t played since the Clinton administration, he looked the part. Forget about everything else after that. Forget about the fact we both shot a score that sounded like amazing radio station names – Power 98, Lite and EZ Listenin’ 89 – and forget about the fact there was no wind or weather to blame for the chunked, shanked, flubbed, thinned, fatted, hooked and sliced shots.
There were curse words, but no clubs, flung. There were birdies, pars, bogeys, others, but no selfies. We talked about golf and the swing. We talked putting and driving. We talked about hand sanitizer and morning radio, too.
My best shots came on the first hole. Steely’s came on the last, and when your best shots come on the final shot, it usually doesn’t take too much prodding to get back on the course.
Hope it’s not long. Can’t wait to see what he wears next time.