Last week, I used a Muhammad Ali reference to predict that I was going to beat Bobby Brashear on the golf course in Madison. Like Ali in one of the Frazier fights, I suffered a figurative broken jaw.
I was beaten. I won’t go so far as to say that I lost to a better man, but I did lose.
Just for the record, Bobby Brashear beat me in golf by a notable margin with both scores in the 90s (and yes to my editor who had expressed a doubt — we did play 18 holes). I lost despite shooting a par on three of the last four holes and still lost. The first nine holes for me were a bit of a torturous adventure.
I am going to use this humbling experience as a teachable moment to young kids everywhere. If you are going to predict a victory at any time publicly, you had better win.
Humble pie is not a tasty treat. I don’t like to lose. I can sometimes be a bit overconfident. My father used to say so often during my younger years: “Son, that mouth of yours is going to cause you a lot of trouble.”
It’s as if he could see the future. A regular “NostraDoddus” he was.
He saw all the way into the future as far as last week’s column. The most surprising victory for me was a moral one. I played the entire round without losing a ball. If you know Bobby personally you already know why that is a surprising fact. If he hasn’t told you the 14-ball story yet, just wait. He will.
I have no excuses or reasons. Bobby says it it’s because there are no dwarfs who play golf professionally. He even inquired at the club as to if a person could play there who wasn’t taller than his driver.
Please address all dwarf hate mail to Bobby Brashear. All of us short people have to stand shoulder to shoulder, even if it’s on each others shoulders.
— Lindon Dodd is a freelance writer who can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org