The New York Times deserves some credit for correctly reporting one thing: the nation is gradually forgetting just what life under a Trump presidency was like.
I was recently reminded by a reference in Bidenmytime’s diary of a key theme in those nightmare years I’d forgotten was so prominent: the former president’s obsession with golf.
Remember? I mean, I know it’s hard just sorting through the pandemics, Nazi riots, eclipse-gazings, weekly nuclear sabre rattling, and insurrections to think about something as silly as golf, but we should.
Yeah, you remember. The guy who said he’d be “too busy” to play golf somehow was able to spend 300 days carting his lard around the fairways. Cost you near 150 million bucks, to boot.
You know how many times Biden’s been golfing since inaugurated? Yeah, me, neither. He hit the links for the first time as president on his 87th day, and apparently only nineteen more times by the midpoint of his first term. Guess actually reading Presidential Daily Briefs and forging policy with Cabinet and Congress take up serious Executive Time.
Shame, too, because it turns out Joe Biden, while no threat to Tiger Woods, is actually a pretty good golfer, especially for a guy who never really played before his 40s. He is reported to have a handicap of 10, while the former dude claims 2 and some.
Except…
The former dude’s claims have to be judged in the context of his notorious cheating. As Sports Illustrated writer Rick Reilly reported in his book, "Commander in Cheat: How Golf Explains Trump,"
"Trump doesn’t just cheat at golf," Reilly wrote. "He throws it, boots it, and moves it. He lies about his lies. He fudges and foozles and fluffs. At Winged Foot, where Trump is a member, the caddies got so used to seeing him kick his ball back onto the fairway they came up with a nickname for him: 'Pele.'”
But “Pele” uses more than his feet to save strokes. His tongue is deployed as often.
"Apparently, they get to a hole with a big pond in front of the green," Reilly said. "Both Ted and his son hit the ball on the green, but Trump hits his in the water. By the time they get to the hole, though, Trump is lining up the son’s ball. Only now it’s his ball and the caddie has switched it.
"The son is like, 'That’s my ball!' But Trump’s caddie goes, 'No, this is the president’s ball; your ball went in the water.' … Trump makes that putt, and wins 1-up."
Absolutely true to form. His passion, his obsession, the only thing he loves more than fantasizing about his daughter, and he’s so bad at it he has to cheat his way to bare adequacy. And then brag about how well he did against the likes of Tiger and the Golden Bear.
Reminds me of my favorite duffer joke, with which I’ll mercifully end this digression:
It’s a lovely Sunday at the club and Moses and Jesus are playing a round. At every hole, Jesus explains to Moses how he was talking with Arnold Palmer “and Arnie said on a hole like this...” and suggest a combination of shots that would quickly get to the green… then proceed to slice or choke or chip into worse and worse lies.
At the sixth hole, Jesus said, “Arnie always says on a hole like this you need to start with a hard drive” and proceeded to slice it straight into a water hazard.
Moses sighed and said, “Sorry, rabbi. Guess you’ll have to take the stroke.”
Jesus wouldn’t hear of it, though. “No,” he insisted, “Arnie would play it as it lays,” and proceeded to march across the surface of the water and place a ball at the spot where his had disappeared.
At that point, the foursome behind, who had been getting impatient at the delays, came up to Moses. One of the four looked out at Jesus getting ready to take his shot and asked, “Who the heck does he think he is, Jesus Christ?”
“No,” sighed Moses, “Arnold Palmer.”
