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Most of what I've written has been published as e-books and is available at Amazon. Match Play is a golf/suspense novel. Dust of Autumn is a bloody one set in upstate New York. Prairie View is set in South Dakota, with a final scene atop Rattlesnake Butte. Life in the Arbor is a children's book about Rollie Rabbit and his friends (on about a fourth grade level). The Black Widow involves an elaborate extortion scheme. Happy Valley is set in a retirement community. Doggy-Dog World is my memoir. And ES3 is a description of my method for examining English sentence structure.
In case anyone is interested in any of my past posts, an archive list can be found at the bottom of this page. I'd appreciate any feedback you may have by sending me an e-mail note--jertrav33@aol.com. Thanks for your interest.

Monday, February 20

Spitting Again

Let’s see now, I think I’ve written at least twice before about athletes and expectorating, baseball players in particular. My point in the past was that most athletes other than baseball players do not spit when they play a game—not football players, not tennis players, not basketball players, not soccer players, no players of any other sport that I can think of, and especially not golfers. Again, I can’t figure out why baseball players still do it. I know they’re simply emulating players from the past, who were prone to having a cheekful of chewing tobacco when they played. But that’s now a thing of the past, at least for most baseball players. But the tv viewer still has to get up close and personal with ball players, and we watch them spit and spit and spit. Thankfully, their spit is only accumulated saliva and not the sinus honkers some people bring up and then out. Back to golf. Tiger has been reprimanded for his occasional tv spit, and I hope he’s stopped doing it. But last weekend, as I watched the Northern Trust Open in California, we all got to go up close and personal with young Keegan Bradley, the fidget king, and during the last four holes on Sunday, he spit so often that even Gary McCord thought he’d have to speak to Keegan about it. Somebody certainly should, his parents, or maybe his aunt Pat Bradley. Golf is a gentleman’s game, and gentlemen don’t spit. At least not in public view.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Did you hear the one announcer joke about being surprised that he had any spit left when they were playing that final hole? It was gross, though an exciting finish nonetheless, and I'm not even a golf fan.

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