Morris was a man who knew all there was to know about golf. He knew all the courses, the champions, their scores, as well as the prize money the professionals had won for the past fifty years or more. He had read every book ever published on the game and knew all there was to know about technique, but, strange to say, he had never played a game.
Having listened to him hold forth for so long his friends finally ganged up on him and insisted that he play a game. It was arranged for the following weekend. Morris set out with borrowed clubs and faced the eighteen holes of his home course.
Five hours later he returned with a score of 53 which included four eagles, nine birdies and a hole in one. Never had anyone seen such a fine performance from a beginner. However while the celebrations were going on in the clubhouse, Morris announced that he would never play again.
“What!” cried his distraught mates. “What!” echoed the equally distraught pro. “But you could win all sorts of prizes for the club. You know everything there is to know about the game.” “Not everything,” Morris replied. “The books didn’t tell me I’d have to walk.”
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