This
phrase can often be heard on the
golf course. You have just 3-putted an easy
green to allow the people you hate the most in all of the world (your
playing partners at the moment) to win several carry-over
bets. It's not really the
money; it's the fact that you failed to get a small ball in a large hole with just two stokes, like any one-eyed epileptic could have done easily.
On the next tee box, you pull out the driver, even though a 3-wood would be called for in most conditions. They are silent (afraid that the driver might be aimed at them if a word was spoken) as you wind up and hit the small white orb with such velocity that it actually removes itself from the visible specter for just a few seconds.
One of your group will invariably say, ”Damn, that had some red-ass on it."