I know right where i got that precious stroke to beat mister minton.
On the first temp hole he lines up for one of his usual sweet forehands and proceeds to thoroughly abuse the bigass cone on the right side of the teepad.
That amounted to oh say about a 30 foot drive.
I really deserved to win though since i had way more style than anybody out there that night. Had a interview downtown, rememberd to bring my discs but forgot my golf shoes.
I was already at ww so i said eff it and rocked out with the shorts, black socks, and brown columbia loafers.
I think i wore it well