Typical man-at-course experience yesterday. I was a solo, paired with another singleton and a father/daughter team. I'm walking over to the first tee, and they are parked beside the blue tees. "Standard," I'm thinking. Usual pleasantries ensue. They hit. One guy goes yard, re-tees, yard, re-tees; other guy splits the fairway. I look at whites, maybe 10 yards on this hole, so just peg it where I am. I'm about even with Long-Wrong's third (fifth), other guy is 30 yards behind us. First guy hits a freakin' cruise missile that doesn't touch anything green until disappearing in the reeds behind the green, drops a BB and this one has enough altitude to die in the rough 15 yards behind. Long-Wrong -- we're 135 out -- shoozles a hosel-rocket somewhere to oblivion. I hit 9i maybe 25 feet right of the hole. After various and sundry chips and rehits and putts and what not, they invent some numbers. I actually don't three-putt. We get to two, they offer me the tee but I tell them to go ahead because I'm playing whites, as I often do. They look at me funny. Now I'm no golf-god, as you know from my tales here. But what happened on #1 pretty much plays out all day. Mr. Breakfast Ball, who spends a good part of the day telling me about his growing up at at NE club and once being a par-shooter, says he's "about a 10 now" and what not, see his first "4" on the par-3 8th and his first par on the par-4 9th. The other guy drops a few putts, scatters a dozen on the opening nine, but he's smiling and jovial and we are having fun chatting here and there. Now never once does either deign to play off the lowly whites. I'm not a huge hitter. But I hit it farther than the majority of recreational male players. My driver swing speed is a few ticks north of 100 mph, and a solid drive for me is 260 (which also plays out time after time in testing and in the yardage calculations all ball manufacturers have for x swing at y efficiency, so the 10 guys everyone knows who "routinely hit it, oh, a good 290," are all but a few full of shit -- ain't gonna happen with the laws of physics in this dimension and universe). I'm two clubs longer than Mr. About-a-10-Now at the short end of the bag, probably three toward the top. Not bragging, just providing comparisons. I play to my 'cap because a whole bunch of pars are offset by that damnable subset of "others." But I don't lose a ball, I don't hit in a hazard or go OB, I do take two drops with penalty from unplayable lies. I three-jack twice. (Apparently that is me not the putter.) Not much changes on the back. Yet I'm the one on the whites?