I bloody love Eddie Pepperell.
I hadn’t snapped a club all year until the Tuesday of Sawgrass during a practice round. I was hitting a 5 iron into the 7th hole and after hitting what was ironically one of my better shots that day, though still not good, I smashed the club into my bag, bending it severely, and then proceeded to throw it Rory McIlroy style into the lake for the alligators to feast on. It was an act of petulance, borne out of frustration. I walked in after my third shot into the par five 9th, waving goodbye to Alex Noren from a distance who I was playing with. I went straight back to my hotel room for a nap.
My first ever shot into the famous 17th hole was on Wednesday during my practice round. It was into a slight breeze and I landed it straight in the water short of the…
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