THIS STORY BEGAN JUST LIKE ANY OTHER OL' STORY. SAME SONG AND DANCE. MY BUDDIES AND I WERE AT OUR USUAL MID-DAY LUNCHEON WITH NEIL ARMSTRONG. CHATTING UP THE GLORY DAYS OF BEING THE FIRST MAN TO GOLF ON THE MOON. JAWS TO FLOOR I KID YOU NOT HE SAID THESE EXACT WORDS, "THERE I WAS, ON THE MOON. I WAS HAVING THE BEST ROUND OF MY LIFE, THERE WAS HARDLY ANYONE ELSE ON THE MOON THAT DAY, JUST ONE OTHER GUY - SKIES WERE CLEAR AND SPIRTS WERE HIGH. IT WAS THE PICTURE PERFECT ROUND. AS I'M ABOUT TO CRUSH IT OUT OF THIS WORLD..."
TEARS WERE IN EVERYONE'S EYES AT THIS POINT, BUT HIS NEXT WORDS ROCKED US TO OUR CORE...
HE SAYS, "MY CLUB...SLIPPED OUT OF MY HAND." *GASP* *CLUTCH MY PEARLS* ...THAT'S WHEN IT HIT US. "THIS MAN NEEDS GRIPS!!!"
YOU CAN IMAGINE WHAT HAPPENED NEXT. GRIPY'S WAS BORN IN A GARAGE IN SILICON VA... WAIT. I THINK I'M GETTING MY STORIES MIXED UP. WHICH ONE WAS I TELLING?