This is pretty self explanatory. We need to go out on the course, look sharp, feel the sun warming our faces, feel our blood pressure rising as we shank the fourth ball today into the rough because we were never very good at golf. Yes, but we like those beverages from the drink cart halfway through our game where we yell words that we made up to express our anger at hitting in the sand AGAIN. What a beautiful game, golf. Pretty sure that last word you made up embarrassed that grasshopper. Maybe this card should have said, “Let’s go to the clubhouse?”