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We
had Frisbees and copy cat discuses (usually cheap and covered with
ads) that we used for evening urban golf in and about the
University of California, Berkeley (Cal) campus while I was there
from '76 to '80. On the long hole 2 (500 yards from the Chi
Psi house to The Last Dryad statue in the faculty glade) there is
a straight steep decline down Durant (one way, uphill). I
flung my heaviest like a hubcap and it rolled, and, on the
downgrade, picked up angular momentum. It went past the
dogleg at 140 yards, kept going another 60 yards, hit a sheriff
patrol car double parked near Top Dog, climbed up the grill, hood
and windshield, and came off, still rolling, on the downhill side
for another 20 yards. The deputy appreciated the distance in
that throw (he never needed to know how OB I was) and we became
friends for those last two years of my B.S.M.E., speaking casually
at Whelan's, where I worked evenings (when it was a tobacco shop),
and, every now and then, while crossing paths on campus (once
under a Goodyear blimp light show) or when duty brought him to the
Sigma Pi door (to ask my brothers for quiet or to ask those same
brothers to mitigate plant visibility at the roof's edge). |
