|Credit: Emmett Tullos III|
Last week, a couple of us were playing the nine-hole Crowne Plaza golf course just west of downtown Asheville. As we teed off on a long par four, we heard a train rumbling along the tracks that ran along the right side of the fairway. It was a Norfolk Southern engine slowly pulling a couple dozen cars.
We should try to hit it, we chuckled. Wouldn't that be fun.
I decided I would not. I had just cracked open a brand new sleeve of golf balls. These were much too nice to bang off the side of a train car. Also, I'm not twelve.
My brother let me borrow his over-sized Taylor Made driver. I do not hit drivers well. I have a tendency to cut across the ball. I slice it. The ball usually lands 30 yards to the right of where I aim.
I teed up my shot, aimed for the middle of the fairway, and swung.