Putting lessons from Aden

This new article has to do with the relationship between two brothers. I was told to let Chris know that golf is only incidental to the true storyline and this is basically a human interest story, not a sports story. My name is Rio Hermoso Del Boca Nueva de la Naranja and I am an old friend of this family. By the way, my friends just call me Rio. Ol Simmons, for obvious reasons, has asked me to convey to you this heartwarming story.

These two brothers, Steve and Keith, were delivered into this world by Dr. Edwin Bailey at Wendy's (formerly known as the Freeman-Greene County Hospital). Although these births occurred many moons ago, their individual arrivals were almost 14 months apart, so don't mistake them for twins. Steve came into this world first and poor little Keith struggled along later, which, as we shall see, became a repetitive pattern throughout their lives. Although they were family and also close amigos, these brothers grew up with a very competitive fire in their hearts. Steve graduated from High School first, went on to college ahead of his little brother and later pursued a career in the Army. Keith managed to finally graduate and ventured out on his own to a rather stoic semi-collegiate experience, as well. Keith also tried his hand at an Army career, but quit and decided to follow a different path in life. (Actually, the little misguided chap followed several paths, but that is entirely irrelevant to the point of this story.)

Sometime during their respective educational and cultural evolutions, Steve took up the game of golf and became somewhat proficient for a person lacking true athletic coordination. While, just like in all other aspects of their lives, Keith failed to even attempt to play the game until a much later date. In the ensuing years, when young master Keith finally became addicted to the game, it was obvious that his skill levels were substantially subordinate to those of his more experienced elder brother. Although the exact date and time can only be theoretically imagined, it was probably at this point in his life when he began to realize, "Unless I improve my golfing skills to a competitive level with my senior sibling, I shall remain a sick sounding second fiddle forever squeaking in my brother's symphony of success." (Whoa, if you didn't get a kick out of that sentence, there's something seriously wrong with your compositional sense of humor.)

As a result of this epiphany, Keith began a concerted effort to improve his game by playing constantly, never taking a lesson, but just playing and playing and playing. Although this might have given the appearance that Keith was self taught, in reality he was learning by observing professional golfers on television. By assimilating the swing patterns of his favorite golfer, he continued along a slow arduous path of self-improvement. Had he selected Jack Nicklaus, Tom Watson, or some other great golfer back then, Keith might have shortened his path to semi-proficiency. However, Keith chose Kirk Triplett as his favorite golfer and his progress moved along at a snail's pace for numerous years. It may have been a decade later when I heard him say, "There was just something about Ol Kirk that I liked, maybe it was that bucket hat."

Finally, after years of hard work, Keith's swing blossomed in the sunshine of an early Greene County spring. This former "Diamond in the Rough" of the bowling lanes had finally achieved a modest amount of success on the links. There were occasions, though quite scant, where Ol Simmons (as Keith was now known) would indeed win a skin or two. Now he was ready at last to offer a competitive effort against his big brother and he was chomping at the bit to bring it on.

That opportunity presented itself just a couple of years ago, and as I remember it now, it was an event like none other that we have ever seen. It rivaled the Masters and the U.S. Open with its' level of pure intensity alone. It took place over several golf courses in the State of Florida and the close head to head competition was unlike anything this world has seen since the days prior to Tiger. The elder statesman tried valiantly to hold off his young upstart brother, but with talents that had been fading fast, caused no doubt by several years of horrible golf abuse inflicted by his youngest son, it was to no avail. Brother Steve succumbed to the pressure and the sweet "Kirk Triplett" like swing of his now much more talented younger brother.

The event itself was a marathon 11 rounds of golf, which a simmering Ol Simmons won by a colossal margin of one stroke. Countless fans of the game were saddened to see the old-timer finally fail and fall on his face in disgrace, but the ascension of young Ol Simmons brought a sudden sense of relief to those who knew him well. It was as if Ol Simmons was new again and magically the world was a better place.

Just like after every great sporting event, the golfing world has passionately yearned for a rematch. The media has cried out repeatedly over the past couple of years for just one more chance to see the old feller try to make a comeback. Now the time has come, in just a little over a week, he will be granted an opportunity to claim a small amount of revenge and to repair his soiled reputation on the links. The odds are stacked against the aging Middle School Golf Coach from Westfield, but everyone knows that he will grind it out with every shot and lay it all on the line one more time. Please stay tuned to this website, as this unbiased reporter and friend of the family shall provide periodic updates on this much awaited kindred rivalry, now described in the media as, "The Vengeance in Venice".