Earlier this season, I was out for my first hickory round with The Scrambler, using a borrowed set of clubs. On the second or third hole, I went down after a 4-iron, or mashie, if you prefer. I must have supponated my wrist and created some serious lag, because that shaft snapped quicker than a chicken bone in a weasel’s mouth.
I thought one weird fracture was enough for one season. For a few weeks, I knew that strange sounds had emanated from one of my Ping Eye 3 club shafts, but I didn’t know which one. On Friday, I again went down after an approach shot with my wedge and suddenly, I had a hinged shaft! The ball ended up on the green and the rubber on the grip stayed intact, ensuring that my hands were not sliced open by the sharp metal edges. I two-putted for par, but am now down wedge.
That, friends, is rub of the green.