Ed and Tom (R) 1985
Last month, I lost a dear friend , one who grew up with me in the old neighborhood. We were in the same class at Providence College.
His death, though very sad, rekindled so many wonderful, funny memories. Here is one.
We were not golfers though I had played a few more times than Tom. His total was zero. I was in medical school and on one of my summer breaks, I thought we might play golf. So off to Triggs Golf Course we went with borrowed clubs.
“Tom, you need to wear some sneakers.”
“Baloney. What traction. This is a silly game. Gimme a club.”
On the 4th hole, Tom decided to take a mighty swing as if he were going to hit one out of the park. He was an excellent baseball player and could hit, but a ball that was moving. He figured that since the golf ball was still, he could wallop it.
He took the club back, came down with a fast swing, as mighty as I had seen, and missed the ball. That wasn’t all.
Since he was wearing street shoes, the smooth leather gave him no traction and he spun in place 360 degrees landing on his rump. It was hysterical and Paul and I did not let the moment go easily.
“My foot hurts. I’m not playing anymore. I’ll just walk with you guys.”
We played two more holes. “This really hurts,” he said.
With the wisdom of an about-to-be doctor, I stated with professionalism, “Tom, if you can walk on it, it isn’t broken.”
“Yeah,” said Paul.
We finished, went to Mainelli’s for a meatball sandwich and went home.
I saw Tom the next t morning. He was wearing a cast on his foot.
“I broke three bones in my foot. I had so much pain, I went to the accident room and they took an X-Ray. Some doctor you are.” He smiled. He always smiled.
“Tom, nobody breaks a foot swinging a golf club.“ I near bowled over trying to stifle my laugh.
“Well, I did. Now don’t you go telling everyone.”