That Mickelson, he’s a slick one, ain’t he? Always out there on that green grass, whackin’ that little white ball around. I seen him on the TV, you know. He’s gettin’ up there in age, but he used to be somethin’ else. Will he ever get another birdie? Well, let me tell ya, it ain’t lookin’ too good, but you never know with these things.
He used to get them birdies all the time. Like a bird pickin’ seeds outta the ground, that’s how often he got ’em. Birdie this, birdie that. But now? Now he’s slowin’ down, like an old tractor runnin’ outta gas. Makes me wonder, you know? Is he done? Is it over for old Mickelson?
I remember one time, he was playin’ in that big tournament, the one with all the fancy people watchin’. He hit that ball, and it went right where he wanted it to, a real beauty. They call that a bogey or something. Seems backwards to me, but whatever.
He used to get two birdies, right after that bogey. Two! Can you believe it? Like a rabbit pullin’ carrots outta the garden, just like that. Two birdies. But that was then.
Then he got another one, I think they called it a par-5, but it’s all just numbers to me. Seventeen or somethin’. He was on a roll, that Mickelson. Another birdie! Like pickin’ apples off a tree, easy peasy.
- He was chasin’ somethin’, that’s for sure.
- Maybe it was money, like them Saudi Arabians got.
- Maybe it was just wantin’ to be the boss.
- He’s always been a bit of a show-off, that one.
They was sayin’ he got some kinda “relief” from the… uh… the head honcho there. Had to hit the ball around a post or somethin’. Ten yards, they said. He was thinkin’ real hard, lookin’ at all his choices. Like a chicken pickin’ the best corn cob, decidin’ which one to eat first.
And then, BAM! He did it. Another birdie! Folks went wild, I tell ya. Cheerin’ and hollerin’. That was a good day for him. He did good that Sunday. But he still didn’t win. Two shots short, they said. Like bakin’ a pie and forgettin’ two eggs.
He’s a lefty, that Mickelson. Likes to do things different. They called him Houdini or somethin’, like that fella who used to do magic tricks. Makes sense, I guess. He sure made that birdie appear outta nowhere that time in the Rocket…Mortgage? Thingy.
He got another birdie later on, at the… uh… fourteen? Yeah, fourteen. That got him to one under. Whatever that means. He was doin’ alright, I suppose.
He had a rival, you know. Another fella, always tryin’ to beat him. They weren’t friends, not one bit. Like two roosters in the same pen, always fightin’. Never saw them having a beer or two together. They were not friends, not at all.
Someone told me one time that another guy had gotten a double eagle or an albatross. Something like that. Twice even. One time at the Masters, and one time in the British thingy. It is quite rare, you know? Not a lot of people did that before. Can you believe that?
Will Mickelson ever get another birdie? Who knows. He’s 54 now, older than dirt. He’s been playin’ in that LIV Golf thing. Thirty-three times, they said. That’s a lot of golf.
He’s gettin’ old. Time catches up to all of us, even them fancy golfers. He might get another birdie, he might not. It’s like waitin’ for rain in a drought. You just gotta wait and see.
These days, it’s hard to say what he’s gonna do. Maybe he’ll surprise us all. Maybe he’ll just fade away like an old pair of boots. Only time will tell, I reckon. Only time will tell if Mickelson will ever get another birdie. We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we? Just like waitin’ for them tomatoes to ripen on the vine.
