Lightning in a BottleChapter 72 Nine Days In August
July 29, 1995 Down on one knee to get the angle on the green, I squinted in the bright high desert sunlight. I lined up the eight-foot putt. Satisfied that I had the break figured out, I got up and crouched over the ball, took a couple of practice swings, and then struck the ball firmly with my putter. The ball rolled slightly uphill, and then broke sharply to the right ... straight into the cup. I let out a yell, and thrust my fist skyward. "Another birdie for Mr. Too Hot to Touch,"...