Does anyone else find it odd that $200 billion is spent on cancer research every single year...and the only thing to show for it is a 75% increase in cancer deaths since the 1990s?
I made a caddie cry today.
He was having a rough loop. I could see it in his eyes from the second he grabbed my bag.
I forgot to clean my bag out after a buddies trip where I’d brought all my rain gear, so it was a bit heavy, and I think he could tell.
He was pretty quiet for most of the round. It was a slow five-hour slog, and after quietly shuffling his feet for the first four hours or so he finally opened up a bit on our way up to the 16th tee.
He was candid. He said money was tight and he was just trying to scrape by until the end of the summer before he heads back to school.
I told him to keep his head up, and that everything has a way of working itself out.
When we finished and it was time to settle up, I felt like I should try to cheer him up, so I told him to choose his own tip.
He kept refusing but I insisted.
I handed the chit back over to him and he nervously wrote “1000.”
Horrified, I forced a polite smile and said, “well, alright then.”
He completely broke down. Thanked me profusely and gave me a good, firm handshake.
For a few moments all of his stress seemed to have melted away as he floated back toward the bag room. “Hey, could you actually run those up to valet for me, bud? I’ve got an away game tomorrow morning.” He happily obliged, smile still plastered on his face.
I couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of myself for having done something so generous and special for this young man. Sometimes doing the right thing really is its own reward.
After he was out of sight, I quickly signed the chit and added a decimal point: $10.00.
Kid’s reads cost me at least 4 strokes out there and a 20% tip is still very generous for a single bag.
While I may have had to take back that $990, nobody can ever take that moment of happiness from him.
I shoved a piece of crayon up my nose as a kid and had to go to the hospital to get it removed. A nurse tried giving me a coloring book and crayons for being a good boy and my dad said "don't give that retard anymore crayons"