Lyle Davenport's golf game hasn't changed for years. He shares his tee-time each Tuesday and Thursday morning with Ken Sutton, and the numbers penciled upon their scorecards never delineate from one round to another. Birdies always fall on the same puts as before, and the errant shots that sacrifice their balls to water hazards always occur at the same moments during each round. Though Lyle's rounds hold a terrible measure of sorrow and pain, those rounds hold far more exhilaration and joy. For in all his years flaying at a small, white ball, Lyle has never witnessed a swing as graceful as Ken Sutton's - and the memory of such grace and skill is enough to keep Lyle coming back to those manicured and cruel fairways of grass.
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