It was a Sunday morning. No, that's not true. It was THE Sunday morning. It was time for my golf tournament. As usual, just like in every competition, the 7 o'clock sky was a dark, cloudy sky with faint traces of blue etched everywhere. I breathed in deep and shuddered as the winter air stung my nose and hurt my lungs. The air was freezing, penetrating through the group of eager golfers, who were chattering and chortling all the while. Despite the cold, it was well-known that in a time of a few hours, everyone would be soaked in their sweat with the sun glowering down on the small course. After playing for so long, the initial fear and apprehension that I had felt on my first time at a golf course was now reduced to some slight nervousness. I had even made my own morning routine before every competition, so that I would have no fear or nervousness when I went to the tournament. Yet, I was still nervous. The taste of my drink still lasted in my mouth. I had checked to see who was in my group and despite not realizing it at that time, I was going to have to play my best to escape losing. I was playing with my friend Jett. He was a fairly good golfer. He could deliver accurate and powerful shots. Despite this, I knew that I had to try my best. The first tee came into sight. People wished me luck. I was to tee-off before Jett. I put on my glove, enjoying its solid feel. I grabbed my driver and after a few practice swings. I drove my ball into the middle of the fairway. Jett did the same minutes later. And then, we were off, each person eager for victory. It was time for a showdown.
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