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by Hunter S. Thompson
The death of professional hockey in AMERICA
is a nasty omen for people with heavy investments in NHL teams. But to me,
it meant little or nothing -- and that's why I called Bill Murray with an
idea that would change both our lives forever.
It was 3:30 on a dark Tuesday morning when
I heard the phone ring on his personal line in New Jersey. "Good
thinking," I said to myself as I fired up a thin Cohiba. "He's bound to be
wide awake and crackling at this time of day, or at least I can leave a
very excited message."
My eerie hunch was right. The crazy bugger
picked up on the fourth ring, and I felt my heart racing. "Hot damn!" I
thought. "This is how empires are built." Late? I know not late.
Genius round the world stands hand in hand,
and one shock of recognition runs the whole circle round.
Herman Melville said that in the winter of
1914, and Murray is keenly aware of it. Only a madman would call a legend
of Bill Murray's stature at 3:33 a.m. for no good reason at all. It would
be a career-ending move, and also profoundly rude.
But my reason was better than good ...
* * * * *
BILL: "Hello?"
HST: "Hi, Bill, it's Hunter."
BILL: "Hi, Hunter."
HST: "Are you ready for a powerful idea? I
want to ask you about golf in Japan. I understand they're building
vertical driving ranges on top of each other."
BILL (sounding strangely alert): "Yes, they
have them outdoors, under roofs ..."
HST: "I've seen pictures. I thought they
looked like bowling alleys stacked on top of each other."
BILL: (Laughs.)
HST: "I'm working on a profoundly goofy
story here. It's wonderful. I've invented a new sport. It's called Shotgun
Golf. We will rule the world with this thing."
BILL: "Mmhmm."
HST: "I've called you for some consulting
advice on how to launch it. We've actually already launched it. Last
spring, the Sheriff and I played a game outside in the yard here. He had
my Ping Beryllium 9-iron, and I had his shotgun, and about 100 yards away,
we had a linoleum green and a flag set up. He was pitching toward the
green. And I was standing about 10 feet away from him, with the
alley-sweeper. And my objective was to blow his ball off course, like a
clay pigeon."
BILL: (Laughs.)
HST: "It didn't work at first. The birdshot
I was using was too small. But double-aught buck finally worked for sure.
And it was fun."
BILL: (Chuckles.)
HST: "OK, I didn't want to wake you up, but
I knew you'd want to be in on the ground floor of this thing."
BILL: (Silence.)
HST: "Do you want to discuss this
tomorrow?"
BILL: "Sure."
HST: "Excellent."
BILL: "I think I might have a queer dream
about it now, but ..." (Laughs.)
HST: "This sport has a HUGE future. Golf in
America will soon come to this."
BILL: "It will bring a whole new meaning to
the words 'Driving Range'."
HST: "Especially when you stack them on top
of each other. I've seen it in Japan."
BILL: "They definitely have multi-level
driving ranges. Yes."
HST: (Laughs.) "How does that work? Do they
have extremely high ceilings?"
BILL: "No. The roof above your tee only
projects out about 10 feet, and they have another range right above you.
It's like they took the façade off a building. People would be hanging out
of their offices."
HST: "I see. It's like one of those
original Hyatt Regency Hotels. Like an atrium. In the middle of the
building you could jump straight down into the lobby?"
BILL: "Exactly like that!"
HST: "It's like people driving balls from
one balcony to the next."
BILL: (Laughs.) "Yes, they could."
HST: "I could be on the eighth floor and
you on the sixth? Or on the fifteenth. And we'd be driving across a lake."
BILL: "They have flags out every 150 yards,
every 200 yards, every 250 yards. It's just whether you are hitting it at
ground level, or from five stories up."
HST: "I want to find out more about this.
This definitely has a future to it."
BILL: "They have one here in the city --
down at Chelsea Pier."
HST: "You must have played a lot of golf in
Japan."
BILL: "Not much; I just had one really
great day of golf. I worked most of the time. But I did play one beautiful
golf course. They have seasonal greens, two different types of grass. It's
really beautiful."
HST: "Well, I'm writing a column for
ESPN.com and I want to know if you like my new golf idea. A two-man team."
BILL: "Well, with all safety in mind, yes.
Two-man team? Yeah! That sounds great. I think it would create a whole new
look. It would create a whole new clothing line."
HST: "Absolutely. You'll need a whole new
wardrobe for this game."
BILL: "Shooting glasses and everything."
HST: "We'll obviously have to make a movie.
This will mushroom or mutate -- either way -- into a real craze. And given
the mood of this country, being that a lot of people in the mood to play
golf are also in the mood to shoot something, I think it would take off
like a gigantic fad."
BILL: "I think the two-man team idea would
be wonderful competition and is something the Ryder Cup would pick up on."
HST: "I was talking with the Sheriff about
it earlier. But in one-man competition, I'd have to compete against you,
say, in both of the arts -- the shooting AND the golfing. But if you do
the Ryder Cup, you'd have to have the clothing line first. I'm going to
write about this for ESPN tonight. I'm naming you and the Sheriff as the
founding consultants."
BILL: "Sounds good."
HST: "OK, I'll call you tomorrow. And by
the way, I'll see if I can twist some arms and get you an Oscar. But I
want a Nobel Prize in return."
BILL: "Well, we can work together on this.
This is definitely a team challenge." (Laughing.)
HST: "OK. We'll talk tomorrow."
BILL: "Good night."
So there it is. Shotgun Golf will soon take
America by storm. I see it as the first truly violent leisure sport.
Millions will crave it.
* * * * *
Shotgun Golf was invented in the ominous
summer of 2004 AD, right here at the Owl Farm in Woody Creek, Colo. The
first game was played between me and Sheriff Bob Braudis, on the ancient
Bomb & Shooting Range of the Woody Creek Rod & Gun Club. It was witnessed
by many members and other invited guests, and filmed for historical
purposes by Dr. Thompson on Super-Beta videotape.
The game consists of one golfer, one
shooter and a field judge. The purpose of the game is to shoot your
opponent's high-flying golf ball out of the air with a finely-tuned
12-gauge shotgun, thus preventing him (your opponent) from lofting a
9-iron approach shot onto a distant "green" and making a "hole in one."
Points are scored by blasting your opponent's shiny new Titleist out of
the air and causing his shot to fail miserably. That earns you two points.
But if you miss and your enemy holes out,
he (or she) wins two points when his ball hits and stays on the green.
And after that, you trade places and
equipment, and move on to round 2.
My patent is pending, and the train is
leaving the station, and Murray is a Founding Consultant, along with the
Sheriff, and Keith Richards, etc., etc. Invest now or forever hold your
peace.
* * * * *
As for Bill's triumphant finish at Pebble
Beach, I am almost insanely proud of him. He is an elegant athlete in the
finest Murray tradition. Bill is a dangerous brute with the fastest
reflexes in Hollywood, but he is suave, and that is why I trust him even
more than I trust all his brothers. Yes, I say Hallelujah, praise Jesus.
Where is Brian? I will need him for this golf project, if only to offset
Bill's bitchiness. We will march on a road of bones.
OK. Back to business. It was Bill Murray
who taught me how to mortify your opponents in any sporting contest,
honest or otherwise. He taught me my humiliating PGA fadeaway shot, which
has earned me a lot of money ... after that, I taught him how to swim, and
then I introduced him to the shooting arts, and now he wins everything he
touches. Welcome to the future of America. Welcome to Shotgun Golf.
So long and Mahalo.
Hunter.
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