Instead of standing in the same spot and taking turns chipping balls in the same direction down field, that day, my dad and I stood at opposite ends of the field and chipped balls to each other. At each other. It was like a golf shot duel. We almost hit each other several times. We didn’t give a shit. He or I - if a shot looked like it was getting too close, one of us would just give a shout, and the other would duck and cover. We were both hitting well - accurate as hell. We were only chipping about fifty or sixty yards, nine and eight irons. A shot like that wouldn’t hurt that much anyway. We trusted each other - trusted each other not to get pissed if somebody got hit with a ball. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and there was a warm breeze blowing. We were by the river. It was a goofy thing to do and a glorious day for it.

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