“Well, I was hitting the ball pretty well, but my eyesight has got so bad lately that I couldn’t see where the ball went”.
“Well, you are seventy five years old, Jack!” his wife said, “Why don’t you take my brother Scott along? His eyesight is still pretty good, maybe he could help you to see where the ball went”.
“But he’s eighty-five and doesn’t even play golf anymore,” protested Jack.
“Yes”, Tracy said, and repeated “but he’s got perfect eyesight. He could watch your ball,” in case Jack missed her saying it the first time.
So, the next day Jack teed off with Scott looking on.
Jack swung, and the ball disappeared down the middle of the fairway. “Do you see it?” asked Jack.
“Yup,” Scott answered.
“Well, where is it?” yelled Jack, peering off into the distance.
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