I thought I had created a story by making my putt but he didn’t see it that way. The best way to describe Phil is . And I mean that in the most respectful way. The shots he hits or the decisions he’s made on the course that aren’t so great he forgets.
It was a moonless night but the hotels lining the fairway provided some ambient light as did the flashlights on our phones. Mike Sean and I ripped our drives the sound echoing off the buildings like gunfire as the balls disappeared into the gloaming.
The dude who was watching us turned out to be another wayward Yank. He saw us on the green snagged a putter from his hotel lobby and came out to join us. We parted ways and then Mike Sean and I wound up having up-and-down contests out of the Road Hole bunker among other hijinks.