On Harry Potter

After graduating from Oklahoma Christian University a few friends of mine decided to take up the sport of golf. We thought we had entered into a new world of the elite. Young, soon to be rich (or so we hoped) and full of care free joy. Golf represented a quest to sell out as quickly as possible. The old cliche says, Pride goes before the fall (is that in the Bible? I probably shouldn't call it a cliche if its in the Bible.)

My "fall" occurred on an auspicious day when I triumphantly returned to Oklahoma and my then 5 month old pass time, golf. That cool fall morning Elizabeth had gone shopping with her friend while Reece and I, who were perhaps a bit hung over, decided on a refreshing 9 holes to start our day (he had moved into an apartment complex that had its own golf course). The full 9 holes would not be played that day.

The 3rd hole brought no unusual occurrences at first. I drove well, down the center (ok that's a little unusual) and Reeces ball landed somewhat to the left. I was toward the end of the fairway and didn't have far too go before I hit onto the green. There was, of course, one obstacle that I had foreseen and one that I had not. The obstacle I was aware of and worried about was the water that flowed lazily between me and par. The unthought of obstacle was the cart path that lay just about a foot in front of my ball. A ball, I might add, that was quite hard. I swung my club with neanderthal strength. It connected with the Ball. Instantaneously, a flash bomb went off in my head.

Totally and utterly confused I saw Reece running toward me repeatedly yelling, "are you ok? are you ok?"

I replied, "My head hurts a little bit." (understatement is fun even when you have a concussion).

I felt the place where ball had made contact. I pulled my hand back to see that it was now covered in blood. I looked down at the ground there was splatter. The hot liquid continued to run down my face. Reece asked if I was going to pass out. I didn't think so. But I was pretty confused. I told him I didn't have health insurance (so much for the wealth). We covered my bloody head with my shirt (which incidental had Arabic writing on it from a Model Arab League competition I had once attended) We found my Ball it had cleared the Water. That's right. The ball had struck the corner of the cart path, bounced up, struck my forehead and went across the hazard only to land in the rough to the right of the green. I still have the scar on my forehead. It defiantly declares without my permission, "golf is not my sport." But on the bright side I can dress up like a giant Harry Potter for Halloween.

TOPEKA ATTORNEY