Standing on the tee box, I survey the fairway, a slight downhill dogleg left. It’s a par four, but it’s not a long hole, especially for me. Birdie is a possibility if I can put the ball on the short grass, and believe me, that I can do. The morning sun is rising over the hills to the east. It’s going to be a good day. I can feel it.
I pull out my driver, insert a tee into the soft ground, and place my brand-new Titleist Pro V1 atop it. I step back and choose my line, just to the right of the first bunker, about 200 yards out. I take a couple of smooth practice swings, getting the feel, finding my tempo. As I address the ball, I’m feeling confident, like I own this course. I swing through the ball and feel it connect with the center of my clubhead. I watch as the little white ball — my ball — soars majestically into the morning air, splitting the fairway, just as I’d planned.
I’m a good golfer, believe me. In fact, many people say I’m the greatest golfer to ever be president. And that’s not by accident. It’s because I practice. I work at this game, that I can tell you. I never let more than a few days pass without getting out and playing a couple of rounds. Because that’s how you get good, folks. Not just sitting around the office and hoping you get better. You get out here and you put in the work.
And that’s why it makes me so mad when people don’t appreciate the job I’m doing for America. I need this time on the course to clear my head from all the negativity and the haters. Like that uppity little mayor in Puerto Rico. Did you see what I tweeted yesterday after I rolled in that seven-foot par putt on number 11? “Nobody could have done what I’ve done for #PuertoRico with so little appreciation. So much work!” Precisely.
The truth is, out here is where I think of all my good words — like “Rocket Man.” I thought that one up at Bedminster a couple weeks ago, right after that stupid double bogey that never would have happened if I hadn’t been thinking about North Korea. And out here on one of my courses is where I came up with the word “fake,” which not many people had heard of until I thought of it.
And fake news is everywhere, believe me. Just this week, Fake NBC reported that Rex Tillerson called me a “f**king moron.” Folks, it never happened, that I can tell you. If you believe that happened, then you believe the American people would elect a moron as president, and what does that say about your patriotism and your faith in our country, huh? Ever think about that?
And now, I’m having to deal with this bad little hombre from Tennessee, “Tiny Bomb” Corker. I’ve played golf with this guy, and let me tell you, he sucks. Can’t hit it out of his shadow, and he’s got a pretty small shadow, believe me. All through the round, I kept telling him he had a good short game, you know, because that’s a pretty good joke, right? Son of a bitch never cracked a smile.
Now he’s saying Tillerson and Mattis and Kelly are the only people keeping the country from chaos. And then he has the nerve to say the White House is an “adult daycare center.” Let me tell you, it’s Corker who’s the moron, not me. Think about it: If the country’s in such bad shape that the White House is in chaos and the president needs adult daycare, why are General Kelly and General Mattis (great generals, by the way, the best) always urging me to go play golf? Game, set, and match, folks.
Wow, those were good words. Where’s my phone?
Bruce VanWyngarden
brucev@memphisflyer.com