Banjo Picking Golfing Rasslin’ Preacher
You remember me telling y’all about Preacher Vincent, the banjo picking minister who rassled the rangatang?
Not long ago me and Darrell and his cousin Robert went out to play golf, and Preacher Vincent wanted to go along. Now Robert is a good player, so he asked the Preacher what kinda game he played. Preacher said “Well, brother Robert I ain’t as good at golf as I am picking the banjo, but yes, I can play.”
We hadn’t been out there long and it became apparent golf was not Preacher Vincent’s long suit. But, me and Darrell didn’t care. We was just out there to have fun. Robert was a serious player though, and after a while all the shenanigans began to wear him down. All that cutting up and so on made it hard for him to concentrate.
We came to number seven, and Robert wasn’t happy ’cause he’d just made a double bogey. He started to rag the Preacher, and it began to get on Preacher’s last nerve. Well, Preacher proceeded to hit a low rope hook what dang near hit Robert in the leg. The ball scooted out over the water, took a few skips about like a flat rock you’d skim across the lake just right, and then sunk.
“Preacher, I thought you said you could play this game,” Robert said.
“Well, maybe I ain’t much of a golfer, but I can rassle. You wanna rassle?” Preacher replied.
“Yes sir, buddy. I’ll bet twenty bones you can’t whup me.”
I wouldna done that myself. Before I could say a word the two had squared off. Preacher let Robert have a few points to get him overconfident, then proceeded to do some kinda whirly-gig like maneuver, hoisted Robert up over his head and tossed him right in the lake. That was one more embarrassed boy to have a Preacher out-rassle him like that.
Robert hadn’t ever been around Preacher, and I know he didn’t realize what he was getting into. Preacher is myopic from all that Bible study, but the glasses’ll fool you. If you size up the situation he is a stout boy. Robert had his blood up, though, and let testosterone poisoning trump reason. A man should never do that, but you see ’em do it all the time.
They say in golf if you’re at the 19th hole, and a man wants to bet you he can fling the ace of spades across the room and land it in your beer mug, you better think twice. He’s been around and figured out some way to do it. Same way with a preacher- if he bets he can out-rassle you, you can count on the fact he’s done some rassling in his day.
Too bad Robert didn’t ask me for advice. I’d no more bet against a preacher who can out rassle a rangatang than place wedge shot wagers with an old Doctor who only plays golf on Wednesdays.
Gone to tee it up. It is Wednesday, isn’t it? I’m getting some age on me, and can’t keep my days straight when I’m off duty.
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