Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Which Reminds Me...

That reminds me, Blue. There was some EXTREMELY amusing sports television this weekend, especially on the Vijay/Daly playoff hole at the Houston Open. Daly was positively Homeresque - and by Homer I mean Simpson. I think he and Wells were separated at birth.

First, Vijay can barely bring himself to look at Daly when they shake hands before they tee off. It's as if Vijay is utterly repulsed by even the thought of playing alongside the mayor of White Trashistan. Then with his hands trembling, Daly inhales a cigarette in 3 seconds flat. And he holds it like it's a joint. Then he flips the butt into the grass, as if he's making himself at home at Sam's Driving Range on County Road 905. Then of course, he smacks his tee shot into the soup (the announcers didn't say anything but it looked to me like it took a sideways hop). Then his drop rolls back into the water. A second drop rolls to within a couple feet of the water, but settles. Once his ball is stable, he smacks it over the green and all the way down the backslope into Hades. No practice swings or anything, just *whack*. Then, before they can determine who's away, Daly chips up. I thought Vijay's colonial British head was going to explode. Vijay willed his winning putt in the cup so he wouldn't have to deal with Daly for one more second. He shook Daly's hand like he was picking something out of the toilet.

OK, so maybe I'm easily amused. But like Wells, Daly is s-o-o-o-ome kind of white boy.


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