Six holes later Phil split the fairway with a drive. When he got to the spot where the ball should have been, the caddie was there, the ball was not.
"It was in a divot mark," explained the caddie, taking the ball out of his pocket, "so I thought I'd try to give you a better lie." It was an earnest attempt to recoup for past blunders. It cost Krick another two-stroke penalty.
Somehow Krick was able to finish the round and, despite six penalty strokes, turned in a one-under-par 71. He easily qualified for the tournament. Quietly, so as not to injure feelings, he then asked the caddie master to assign him another boy. The switch was too late—Krick was cut after the second round.
THE SORE-FOOT DETECTIVE
Had she come dressed in burlap, worn tennis shoes, flashed an ax and cried, "Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition," she could not have caused greater trepidation. A hundred angry men, who had come to the state fairgrounds in Raleigh, N.C. to show their Tennessee Walking Horses, clustered around Mrs. Pearl Twyne. She wanted to have a look at the horses; they wanted to have her bull-whacked. Or worse.
"Get her out of here," said one, beginning a chorus.
"We're tired of being overrun by this old lady!"
"Nosy old bitch!"
"If she ever comes to Tennessee, I'll personally throw her in the river!"
"If she steps into my stable," said Jimmy Norris of Fayetteville, N.C., "she'll never step out again."