Across the 49 great states of this vast nation, there’s a universal adage that remains firm and true, as resolute as the desk that resides in the Oval Office: drive for show, putter for dough. Even if you’ve never picked up a golf club, you get the broad strokes. That means the devil is in the details. This means slow and steady wins the race. That means genius is 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration. But you’ll notice we said “49”. There is a small old place where the words are a bit different. This place is Kentucky, and in Kentucky you drive for the show and you putt for Pappy.
We’ve seen this stuff 1,000 times now. A local hero drains 9 6ft bombs in front of thousands of screaming college basketball fans and gets on the spot. Usually, the reward is something like tuition, a new Nissan, or, uh, practice round tickets to the US Senior Open. But like we said, this is Kentucky. There’s no education involved or some guy in a leprechaun costume jumping around trying to make Champions Tour practice round tickets look like a pot of gold after a while. Rainbow. Instead, there’s only 750 milliliters of America’s finest bourbon shining like a light in the storm of life.
Sure, you can’t take a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle to the bank and cash it like a giant three thousand dollar novelty check, but the life lesson it teaches is invaluable: unless you want to spend the rest of your life drinking Old Crow. , you better start working on your little game.