It was fairly light-hearted, but there was no beer, and it was NOT easy. Especially difficult was hitting the ball, which, it turns out, is an important part of the game. So, I decided I needed some rehearsal, and Patrick, Stephanie and I headed out to where all serious athletes train: Sherman Oaks Castle Park!
Surely these helmets could stop anything, including a falling piano:
I prefer Patrick's improved version of the photo. 100 is certainly how fast it felt:
Patrick gets ready to "smack it" with the "bat":
Stretching: good for the humours:
On this one I hit it so hard the ball vaporized and then snowed pack down to the ground as powder...or maybe I missed it. I can't remember:
The batting practice went well, and Patrick and I both improved. Turns out it's a bit hard on your obliques, though, so we eventually switched over to a more gentlemanly pursuit: minigolf.
Stephanie demands, "Total and complete silence," as she lines up a putt:
Minigolf putter ad:
"Why, hello:"
Patrick copes with the terror of the h-h-haunted house!
I seem to remember that she hit it through the lighthouse's window:
Thomas's apostasy from his Catholic upbringing:
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