You may remember a story that I told Eli earlier this season.

Back in May, I was playing the Cardinal, and after a wayward drive, I was on the wrong side of the creek on the 14th hole.

After playing my second shot, I tried to cross a bridge that I'd never seen before with a push cart.

And I'm not even sure you can technically call it a bridge.

It was so narrow I had to

lean the cart forward and bounce on the front wheel with the two back wheels sticking up in the air.

And then when I reached the other side, I realized it was a three foot vertical bank that I had to

climb to get back on to land. So there I was, in full view of a foursome on the 12th green, paralyzed on this narrow walkway,

trying to balance myself and a push cart all while hovering over a creek.

I ended up awkwardly twisting the push cart up and over the bank,

and in the process my rangefinder fell from my bag and landed directly in the creek.

As I described to Eli, I then, for some reason, went to great lengths to retrieve this rangefinder,

not realizing in the moment that when I finally fished out of the creek, it would be ruined.

On top of all this, I wasn't scoring well that day, and so when I got home, I chose to take

out all of my frustration on my waterlogged rangefinder

and throw it against the driveway repeatedly until finally throwing it away.

What I didn't tell Eli was what happened after that.

Why would I?

It seemed like an insignificant story.

I got in the house, got on Amazon, and reordered the same rangefinder I had just destroyed.

Except it wasn't exactly the same. The rangefinder I had just destroyed was white with blue

trim. And at that particular time, white with blue trim was sold out. They only had one other

...