Eldrick was furious.
He had recently scored a set of classic persimmon-head clubs. Not for work, he had told himself. Never for work. These beauties are for pleasure.
Their heads glowed with a deep varnished luster, the brass screws set perfectly flush. Four gorgeous clubs: driver, brassie, cleek, and spoon. Products of a bygone age.
And now they were missing.
How can they be missing? he asked himself. How many golf club thieves can there be at an Oceanographic Institute on the south shore of Cape Cod?
Eldrick groaned, thinking of the headlines. “Woods Loses Woods at Woods (Hole).” Crap.
Lost
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