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The second was on the 6th green later that summer. His fivesome was allowing me to play through (I was by myself), and he met me on the green. The guy was a notorious gambler, and as I stood over the ball, he bet me $100 that I couldn't make the putt. He was dead serious. I told him I knew I could make the putt, but couldn't cover the bet. He snorted, told me to go ahead and make the putt. I did. He offered to drive me up to the next tee box.
As we headed over, all he said was, "You should have taken the bet, kid. Especially if you knew you could make it. You won't get far in life if you're always a chickenshit." Charming, in his own sort of way.
I've never really forgotten that day. And now maybe I should heed his advice. I could have picked a different picture, but this one is sort of emblematic of his life. Even though his health was bad, and every bone in his body was shattered, he still knew how to market himself. Even as a daredevil scooter rider.
REST IN PEACE, MR. WHIPPLE AND MR. KNIEVEL. DON'T SQUEEZE THE CHARMIN!
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