I used play golf with a guy called Gerry. Every Friday afternoon, roundabout lunchtime I guess, Gerry would call me and confirm our weekly golf outing. It was our “thing” we did every week. I’d known Gerry since I was 10 years old. He was best man for me at my wedding and we’d been through thick and thin together.

He was like a brother to me.

One Saturday afternoon, he and I were teeing off from the 12th. I hooked my 3 wood badly and Gerry gave me this really strange look. I ignored it, putting it down to my swing and whatnot, but on the 14th green he did it again as I missed a 6 inch birdie putt.

“Gerry”, I said, “What’s with the funny looks? You act like you’ve never seen me play a bad shot before.”
“Funny looks? What are you talking about? I’m not looking at you funny…”
“Yes you are! What the hell is your problem dude? You never see anyone hit a bad shot before? Jeez, I’ve seen you hit some stinkers in your day.”
“Have not” Gerry replied, obviously hurt.
“Have too motherfucker. In fact, you couldn’t aim shit at a barn door, so enough with the funny looks when I hit a bad shot. Okay?”
“Okay, calm the fuck down like. I only looked at you.”
“Well don’t fucking look at me. Who the hell do you think you are anyway?”
“I’m supposed to be your friend, man.”
“Friend? Don’t make me laugh you boghopping piece of shit. See that guy picking up leaves over there with the green meshback cap?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s more of a friend to me than you Gerry.”
“Where’s all this coming from man? Did you fight with your wife again?”
“My wife? What about my wife? Gerry… are you fucking Sarah? Oh my god, I can’t believe your fucking Sarah. I’m going to kill you man.”

With that, I pulled my 6 iron from my bag and proceeded in chasing Gerry back down the 14th fairway until I caught the bastard on the knee with a mighty swipe. He fell awkwardly, twisting his ankle collapsing in a heap at my feet.

“What the hell are you doing man? You’re crazy!”
“Shut the fuck up Gerry, it’s over. Get what's coming to you.”

I almost beat that piece of shit to death and now he’s in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

He don’t play golf so good no more.