We at BadGolfer.com rarely pay attention to presidential elections. With the beer cart girls, the booze and the bogeys, who has time for something so trivial? Really. But it's different this year. We've been shaken out of our usual stupor staring at Mia R from De Lago Golf Club's so completely golf relevant photos and stirred into action.
No self-respecting (or self-loathing) duffer can sit this race out. It's a contest between good and evil, right and wrong, natural and unnatural. It's a contest between a golfer and a windsurfer. That's right a windsurfer. As the Republican National Committee so graciously pointed out in its zany TV ads (we caught them between viewings of Temptation Island or was it Blind Date?). John Kerry is a windsurfer.
As the great Republican governor from California Arnold Schwarzenegger would say, "What are you a girlie man?" (Never mind that Arnold first got his name in a sport where men talked about pumping other men up, we're getting political, which means you only tell the part of the story that suits you. In other words, the usual BadGolfer.com philosophy.)
So there's girlie man Kerry waffling in the wind on his pretty boy board. And then there's our straight-jawed, steely-eyed (OK, squinty-eyed, it was one debate) President taking proud golf swings. You call this Decision 2004? We have a harder time choosing between tissue brands here at BadGolfer.com.
Can it be anyone but the golfer? And yes, in the interest of half disclosure, it's true Kerry also professes to golf. But where's the evidence? Have we ever seen Kerry hitting driver on a ranch in Texas while American troops fought half a world away? Windsurfer boy probably has to ask his billionaire wife for permission to hit the links. Not our W. He goes out there and gets in his swings, rain or shine, Texas or D.C., war or peace.
George W. Bush doesn't just play golf either. He plays bad golf, the only kind you can really respect. W. learned speed golf from his father, and it's the only way he prefers to play. Pity the French diplomats who want a traditional golf meeting with our President. They better get those chicken legs moving. Bush hits a shot and goes, speeding off to follow his ball and quickly hit it again. Thinking? Who needs thinking!
Can you imagine the difference playing with Kerry instead? The senator from Massachusetts would be motionless over his approach shot, nine-iron in one hand, eight-iron in the other. He'd call his caddy over and then not satisfied he'd commission a special nations council of caddies to examine the yardage from every angle. Meanwhile, it's gotten dark and the whole round's shot.
Just try getting a rain check from the clubhouse for that.
And who do you think is out for that waffle-waver round? You! That's right. Kerry's never met a cost he cannot pass onto the taxpayers. Sorry guys, left the wife's purse at home.
Bush? He would have been in the clubhouse hours ago buying cold ones -- and anything harder than that -- for anyone who wanted to remember his fraternity haze days. And if his daughters came by? Whoa, BadGolf.com would have pictures to make Mia R's shots look like Sunday School material. Twins!
Has the choice ever been simpler?
Sure, Kerry also plays hockey while Bush is more known for a little National Guard hooky. And? That supposed to be a criticism? BadGolfer.com's been built on guys playing hooky, guys telling their boss they're running to the copy store when they're really headed for three days of golf and tropical beer cart girls in Bora Bora. Hail to the Chief!
Let Kerry drone on and use those big words he loves like "plans." Our choice for president isn't coming up with an 18-hole "plan" for foreign (funny word warning) affairs, the economy and health care. He's attacking the golf course of America, one bogey at a time.
Kerry is the kind of guy who'd adopt Jean Van de Velde as his caddy. Is there anyone who's ever come up hesitatingly shorter in a big spot? Plus, Van de Velde is French, perfect for the foreigner-loving Democratic candidate. (Kerry probably had the gall to still call fried potato slices french fries rather than freedom fries during the early days of the Iraq war.)
W. is the kind of guy who'd adopt Tiger Woods' Steve Williams as his caddy. Someone who understands when force is called for (you didn't see Williams stopping to read that fan his Miranda rights before he yanked the camera from him at the U.S. Open last June). What? You thought Dick Chaney would be Bush's caddy? Please, like the pacemaker's enduring 18 holes of golf. Let alone 18 holes of speed golf. No, Chaney is in an undisclosed bunker off the 17th green.
In closing, it's clear to us at BadGolfer.com which way your vote must go (like we'll actually wake up on Nov. 2 before the polls close). It has to be the guy who loves bad golf, crazy twins and old men hiding in bunkers. You know, everything American and true.
George W., this endorsement's for you.
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