His eyes blurred by his favorite beverage, Beefeaters’ Gimlets, Westy had nearly holed a long green-side bunker shot on the tough 18th at Olympic Hills Country Club to win all of the presses.
After the round we proceeded to The La Cantina our favorite watering hole. The La Cantina, famous for happy hour and delicious hors d’oeuvres was located along the legendary “Strip.” The Strip was near the “Old Met” (Metropolitan Stadium in Bloomington, MN along I-494) where Minnesota’s Vikings and Twins played in the elements and on real grass. The Strip was nationally known for a progression of remarkable bars, nightclubs and disco joints that attracted all the athletes and pretty people in the Twin Cities plus the want-to-be’s and groupies who followed them around.
With the replay of our round totally digested and our bellies full of tacos and egg rolls and a few more Gimlets we headed for the exit. We were standing at the curb of the well lite entrance of The La Cantina waiting for the valet to fetch our cars. The people watching had reached a crescendo as the satisfied after work happy hour patrons were making the transition to beautiful people who were out for the evening.
With the entryway now crowded, a beautiful British made Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow pulled up to the curb. The two different shades of the subtle silver sparkled in the bright entry way lights. The gorgeous Roller stopped blocking the cross walk that ran from the nightclub to the vast parking lot. Chuck Foreman, the cocky all-pro running back for our beloved purple gang slammed his gleaming Roller into park. Foreman, with a huge teethe grin on his face, hopped out of his wonderful automobile. Chuck was dressed head to toe in the latest disco era outfit, flashy leisure suite and print silk shirt with patent leather shoes to match. He made a big deal of locking the door and slowly sauntered up the walk toward the double door entrance. The entire audience, those coming and going, stopped and watched their hero.
Westy, with a few more Beefeaters under his belt, and a crowd of in-awe Viking fans to show-off for, hollered at the famous #44: “Hey Foreman, four years from now you will still be driving that Rolls, but I’ll be in the back seat.”
Foreman turned his head. His eyes searching the crowd for which of his admiring fans had recognized him, for the king that he was. Who had made the comment that he, at first, did not comprehend. When the pretty people, groupies and want-to-be’s, started to snicker, Foreman got it! The cockiness and smile left his face; he lowered his eyes to the sidewalk and quickly entered his second playing field searching a more appreciative audience.
The blurry-eyed Westy, even more cocky than #44, just nodded his head and smiled in self-admiring approval as he got into his Porsche!
