I appreciate your unrelenting faith in my ability to digest the complex minutia of a professional golfer’s swing. Really, I do.
But here’s the thing: I spend more time counting up my strokes after I putt out than I do calculating 15% of $29.92 after dinner; what exactly do you expect me to take away from a super slo-mo view of Rory McIlroy’s hands at impact? That I suck at golf?
Because I figured that out a while ago.
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