I spent most of my lunch break today at my desk, reading the last half of Caddy For Life: the Bruce Edwards Story, and holy crap. I had to go into emergency "I'm watching a movie with a girl whose boobies I hope to touch later on tonight, so I can't start crying when Bubba dies in Forrest Gump's arms in Vietnam" mode.
I'm kind of a softie when it comes to movies; I've cried more than once in my life due to the events of a cinematic adventure (not that this is a movie, but it's worth mentioning that I bawled my eyes out in downtown Lawrence, while celebrating amongst 100,000 people, when KU won the national championship.) If it wasn't for the aforementioned emergency mode I use while watching a sad movie with a girl- pretending to still pay attention, but really looking just to the right of the TV and humming songs in my head while thinking about baseball and action movies- I think the number of movies that make me cry would be bigger (this might be a bad time to mention this, but DVJS: could I get The Cutting Edge back from you? I think I lent it to Hannah and then kinda forgot about it.)
However, this was definitely a first for me. I had never really come close to crying while reading a book before (except when Dumbledore died, OMG I lost my shit then) but when they got to the part where Tom Watson, at age 53, shot a 65 to take the lead in the 2003 US Open, shortly after Edwards had been diagnosed with ALS....I was struggling to compose myself.
I highly recommend this book to any golf fan- just don't read the last 100 pages in front of a girl you wanna bang someday. Unless they happen to like the sensitive type.
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