The pros went out golfing on an Easter Sunday, but not before a young, white, evangelical, pietistic, golf pro conducted an Easter Sunrise Service on a hole close enough to the clubhouse so the devote professional devotees could slip away unnoticed to grab a cup of hot coffee. Those pros knelt in pious prayer
near a sand trap, for what reason no one is sure except perhaps a few eagles and birdies and no bogies and, for sure, no double bogies let alone triple bogies, but it all looked super sincere and the corporate sponsors loved all of it in the hope that such a demonstration of athletic piety would boost
the dwindling numbers of golfers nation wide and help every last one of those duffers to buy drivers promising lengths beyond anyone’s imagination at those ridiculously high prices for a game of primarily rich, idle, elderly, politically conservative, white guys. In the club house
when it was all over, the assuredly pious wife of a loser, caught on camera giving a perfunctory kiss to her loser husband, then looked at the winner and his wife and made her way with a huge smile toward them apparently hoping to be caught on camera with the winning couple on an Easter Sunday
afternoon when a really rich, affable, young, white guy (on his way toward being a really rich, old, white guy) won the tournament which, in reality, was won or, perhaps, was lost by old, corporate, white guys desperately hanging on to something that was slipping away faster than Tiger Woods’ knees
and any chance he might have of beating an old, conservative, white guy’s record. There go the minorities. They didn’t have a prayer anyway — couldn’t afford the green fees let alone those supersized, titanium drivers.