Hackers

Chapter 2

"So how did you play it?" asks Joe.

"Took an extra club and swung easy. I think I'll have a decent chance to save par." I say after hitting another drive into the water.

Jose pulls their cart next to ours and Jorge says, "Mi'jo, that's not what he's asking about and we don't really care about that, especially now your round is officially a stinker. We waited 11 holes for you to spill the beans. Now spill!"

"What are you talking about? I still can par in and shoot something respectable."

Jose pipes in. "The only respectable thing about your round is you have not driven your cart into a lake."

Very funny. To be fair, they did wait until the back nine and my round completely in the toilet to ask.

"Hey, I broke 80 for the first time last week. Were you expecting a repeat performance?"

"No, we are expecting you to tell us how it went with the cute chick from last week," Jorge makes his demand clearer and not as jovial as before. "And if you make me ask you again, Jose is going to smack you around." He reaches over and playfully smacks me on my head as we get out of the carts by the green.

"My round is not humiliating enough for you? If you want something juicy, why don't you ask Joe about what he did last night?"

Jorge gives Jose a go ahead look and the hulking man drops his putter and starts cracking his knuckles while walking towards me. With his serious, I'm-about-to-kick-your-ass look, he is one scary dude. "It's the Hispanic inquisition, nothing personal Jack. Just answer Pop's questions and I won't hurt you, much."

In one swift motion, Jose flips my hat off and has me in a headlock. "This being our first try, I'll use the lowest setting." He gives me a few noogies, which hurt like hell. "What did this do to you? Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity so be honest. How do you feel?"

"Okay, okay, let me go. I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Jose lets me go, picks up my hat, and puts it back on my head. He picks up his putter and proceeds to go through his pre-shot routine as if nothing happened.

I massage my head and wait for Jose to pull back his putter. "Do you want the long or short version?"

Jose sinks the 20 footer and looks at me with a wry smile and nod. "The long version and leave out no detail."

The 12th hole is a long par 3, 216 yards, water all the way on the left side. The narrow green is protected by deep bunkers left and right. It is usually into a strong wind so it plays more like a short par 4 than a par 3. But of course, nobody plays it that way. Everyone tries to hit the green; I've never seen anyone do it. The closest Joe ever came was front of the green with a 3 wood. He never challenged it with a driver reasoning that it is not worth the risk. "Easy par from front of the green. Not so easy from the water or the bunker."

There are usually at least 3 groups waiting at the tee, which gives the guys plenty of time to question me about the woman golfer from last week.

"I called her Wednesday."

"Waited 3 days so you don't seem desperate," commentates Jose in agreement.

Everyone is an expert when it comes to other people's love life. Jose married his high school sweetheart shortly after graduation and has kids who are getting ready to go to college. I don't think he knows what a date is if a woman picked him up and wined and dined him.

"She didn't write her name with the number so I said, 'This is Jack, the guy from the golf course.' The woman on the phone thought it was a prank call and said she does not know anyone by that name. I was sweating bullets trying to explain how and where we met.'"