I’ll preface this with the fact that I am extremely biased in my opinion considering I took DJ to win 2 majors when I was in Vegas last week at 8-1. That being said, HOW THE FUCK DO YOU FALL DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS. I’ve been walking on this Earth for at least 21 of the almost 23 years I’ve been alive on this planet, and MAYBE I’ve missed a step or two 5 separate times in my life. In fact, the only times I’ve ever personally witnessed a fully functioning human fall down a flight of stairs was when they were coming down to the basement at my frat house and slipped because the steps were covered in sweat and bad decisions, then when my grandma tripped on my baby cousin’s toy and put herself through the sheet rock at their house. For the record, both the drunk college kids and my grandma got right up and easily could have golfed 72 holes over the next 4 days in my expert opinion.
If I’m Dustin Johnson and I’m the favorite to win the Masters, I’m taking the @BarstoolBigCat approach of renting a goddamn scooter to transport myself around for the week leading up to the tournament. Wrap me up in bubble wrap until I look like the Michelin man too. Taking absolutely no chances for injury. Not just for myself, but because I know I’m the people’s golfer and that there’s millions of dollars riding on me to wax everyone’s asses on the biggest stage in golf.
At least lie and make up a cool excuse. “Dustin Johnson pulls out of his incredibly hot wife, Paulina Gretzky, too late and injures back during the panic which will keep him out of the Masters” sounds a hell of a lot better than “Dustin Johnson forced to pull out of Masters due to inability to perform basic human function of walking down stairs.” I’d at least have a good story to tell while I have 0 interest left in the tournament and I can’t get away from watching it at the bars this weekend. So, for all of the above reasons, fuck you Dustin Johnson.
Unless, of course, you win 2 out of 3 of the remaining majors. Then I still love you.
Photo Credit to Reuters