A 90-year-old avid golfer walked into the living room one evening and sadly told his wife that he was finally quitting the game he loved.
“But why on earth would you do that, honey?” his wife asked, concerned.
“Well, it’s my terrible eyesight,” the old man sighed. “I can still swing just fine, but the moment I hit the ball, I completely lose track of it. I have absolutely no idea where it goes.”
His wife smiled and tried to comfort him. “Listen, don’t give up just yet. Why don’t you take my brother Pete to the course with you tomorrow? Sure, he might be 103 years old, but his eyesight is still absolutely flawless. He can be your spotter.”
The golfer thought about it, agreed it was worth a shot, and the next morning found himself out on the green with his centenarian brother-in-law.
The old man stepped up to the tee, took a deep breath, and unleashed a powerful, magnificent swing. The ball took off like a jet airliner, streaking high and straight down the fairway.
Squinting hard, the golfer turned excitedly to his brother-in-law. “Wow, Pete! Did you see that? Did you track the ball?!”
Pete smiled proudly and nodded. “Oh, yes! I saw it perfectly. My eyes tracked it the entire way down.”
The golfer beamed from ear to ear. “Fantastic! Well, where did it land?”
Pete stared blankly at the fairway for a moment, scratched his head, and replied:
“I don’t remember.”
