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Welcome to day two of the W.H. Rawlings Tire Invitational
on the Korn Ferry Tour.
The cut is for the top 65 players and ties.
Aim higher. Go further.
Achieve greatness.
Oh, the place where I worship…
For more information about our talent community,
contact Linda Batatata
or Cinda Trinsti at…
the clubhouse desk.
-Punch it! You gotta punch it! -I'm about to punch you, Lonnie!
God damn it, Old Henry. Seriously, move your ass.
We… are… going to… miss… my
tee time because of you.
I will not have this!
It's emotional abuse, and I'm not gonna stand for it.
Keep going! What are you doing? Run the red light! Go! Go!
Whoa!
-Yeah! -Oh shit!
So, we're good.
Keep going! Keep going!
Next up for the 9:47 start,
McNally, Han, Hawkins.
This is it, Old Henry. I've let you hang around for long enough.
You are done.
-What? -You're fired!
Fired? You're gonna fire me?
Who's gonna carry your bag?
Wait! Left lane. Left! Left lane.
Ahh!
Ahh!
God!
You are a terrible driver.
And next on the tee, winner of the Korean Tour Order of Merit,
Bobby Han.
Hold on!
Oh shit!
Tear it up, Old Henry!
Whoo!
And please welcome three-time major winner
and former world number one
from Yuba City, California,
Lonnie Hawkins.
Lonnie Hawkins?
Hey! Hey!
Hey, man!
Slow down!
Whoa!
I'm Lonnie Hawkins! I'm a professional golfer.
Look at my face.
Look at my face!
Get out the way!
Lonnie Hawkins.
Classic Lonnie.
-I thought he retired. -Holy shit!
No one drives a bus like Old Henry.
Lonnie Hawkins?
Lonnie Hawkins?
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!
We're here. We're here.
My caddie can't tell time, so it's not my fault.
-What? -Yeah. Hey, Dave, hey Bobby.
-What the fuck is wrong with you? -Guy's a joke.
All right. Let's get this show on the road.
You guys already hit?
There you go.
What do we got here? A little Callaway One?
Want to go for a little ride? Huh?
What's that?
You have to speak up louder than that.
Oh, you want to go far?
You want to go into outer space?
You're gonna go flying through that air, screaming your head off with pure ecstasy…
…as you explode into the cosmos.
Do the damn thing.
Okay, let's do it. Let's go for a ride.
That's how it's done!
Ha ha ha!
That's how it's done!
That's how it's done.
-They call him the Hawk -Hawk
He's a golfer
The greatest golfer in the world!
I mean, you gotta try to imagine this steak, okay?
Picture it, smothered in onions and mushrooms, right?
Thick gravy. And then the side?
Oh, the most perfect baked potato.
I mean, just swimming in sour cream and chives.
-You making me hungry. -Here's the crazy thing.
It was just a random Outback somewhere outside of Dallas, you know?
I sure could use some of them Bloomin' Onions they got.
Well, that's Chili's. That's not Outback.
-Oh, you old jackass. It's Outback. -What?
No. Bloomin' Onion? No, no.
I'd bet my life, that's… that's Chili's.
You don't know shit about shit. It's Outback.
Okay, well, I do know this. Tonight, we're going to Carrabba's.
I'm hungry for Italiano.
Fuck Carrabba's. I'd rather eat cat shit with a knitting needle.
-I'm not going to Carrabba's. -Okay, well…
-Yeah, that's you. -Well…
Quiet, please! Shh!
Shut your mouths! Please!
Ha!
Ready, set,
lights, camera…
Nice shot, Lonnie.
Yeah, you know it was a nice shot, Bobby.
-You see that? -You damn right I did!
The kind of shot you'd make back in the Sisqó era.
-"Thong Song." -Yes, sir.
Let me see your booty go Thong th-thong-thong-thong
I love that song!
She had dumps Like a truck, truck, truck
Thighs like what, what, what
Baby, move your butt, butt, butt
I think I'll sing it again…
So, what's the cut at?
One, maybe two over.
All night long
Let me see that thong
-Baby -Girl, I know you wanna show
That thong, th-thong-thong-thong
Who wants some Lonnie juice here, huh?
Little fire in the hole?
It's "water"!
'Cause she was livin' la vida loca
Had dumps Like a truck, truck, truck
Thighs like what, what, what
Baby, move your butt, butt, butt
I think I'll sing it again
She had dumps like a truck
Truck, truck
Thighs like what
What, what
All night long
Let me see that thong
Da-na, da-na
Baby
That thong, th-thong-thong-thong
I like it when the beat goes
Baby, make your booty go
That thong, th-thong-thong-thong, yeah
Chunked it. Hit it fat.
Too much "Thong Song."
Bunkers. I fucking hate bunkers.
Lonnie.
Do you remember Doral 2009?
-No. -You made up five strokes in seven holes.
Yes.
Now that's a birdie up there.
-I fucking love you, bud. -You got it.
-I guess it's not my day today. -Hey, you can't think that way, kid.
A lot of golf to be played.
All it takes is one shot to change your day.
Pay attention to Professor Emeritus Lonnie Hawkins.
Multiple degrees
in golf,
etiquette, and psychology.
Oh my God!
-Call the clubhouse. -Oh God.
He's fine.
He's fine. He's just resting.
-We had a long travel day. I'm… -He's not breathing!
He… He'll be okay. Let's, uh…
Let's putt out.
Would you like to ride in the ambulance with him?
How would that work?
Escort the deceased to the morgue with the EMTs and sign some papers.
No, no, no. I know… I'm just saying, my ball's up there.
What? I mark it, and we come back later?
No! Lonnie!
-What? -You have to withdraw. Game over.
Withdraw? Carlos, no!
I'm two feet from the pin.
Are you serious?
That's the shot of the day. I'm Lonnie Hawkins!
-Lonnie, your caddie just died. -I'm…
I loved him so… I loved him so much, you know.
And, uh, he's gone.
And he's not coming back, and I can accept that.
But you gotta understand, Carlos.
He'd want me to keep playing.
You can't play without a caddie.
Those are the tournament rules.
Well, then…
Hey!
-You, Suns jersey, wanna carry my bag? -Lonnie, stop.
Hundred bucks for five holes, 200 for the weekend.
Lonnie, withdraw. Old Henry is dead.
Dead.
Shit.
God damn it, Old Henry.
I was about to go on a run.
I was gonna race up the leaderboard
and we were gonna play ourselves back on to the Tour, but no.
You gotta drop dead.
I guess I just gotta go it alone.
What are you doing?
Huh?
Oh, this is my… It's my watch.
-Are you serious? -Yeah.
He… He wears it. For me.
When I golf. And when I'm done playing,
he gives it back to me.
-It's what caddies do. -Mm-hmm.
Well, I'm gonna have to write that down in my report. In case anyone asks.
Oh, and this notebook? It has all the info of every golf course
I've ever played on, so…
I'm writing that down too.
Oh yes. And I lent him this cash.
-This is mine. I remember now. -How much?
I don't know. Like, s… s… seventy, 67?
-Mmm… -It's like 20 bucks.
Twenty bucks? I see two $100 bills right there.
-Doesn't matter. Who's counting? -I am.
Three hundred.
-That's some bullshit. -What's that?
You're not my favorite.
When it's twilight on the trail
And I jog along
The world is like a dream
And the ripple of the stream Is my song
And the ripple of the stream Is my song
We not done moving blues, moving ice
We not done fucking niggas' hos
We not done Still running through the bows
Who shot cuz?
I think I know who did it
Who shot…
-Hey. Take five. It's your dad. -Not now, Jerry.
Not now.
It's your dad. And I want you to take a break anyway.
Can we do this another time?
I'm mid-grind. I'm jacked up on creatine right now.
Lancelot! Who's that answering your phone?
You got a boyfriend over there?
Not that I care. You know, love is love and all that crap, right?
What do you want, Dad?
Look, I hate to drop this on you, but, um…
Old Henry died.
Wait, what?
Yeah. He croaked.
Two minutes, amigo.
Oh shit. How?
He died on a golf course. I mean, is there a better way to go?
I'm sorry, Dad. He was like family.
I mean, he was my ride or die.
And… he died.
I heard you were at the Phoenix Open. Uh, I'm up here in Sedona.
I'm just crushing it in a tournament. I was thinking, uh…
Maybe when you're done with your round,
we could spend a little time together, huh?
I don't know, Dad. I'm in the middle of a tournament.
-Just think about it. -Okay. Yeah.
Love you, bud.
Hey. What was all that?
My dad.
Oh, money? Legal problems?
Old Henry died.
What?
Oh my God. Babe, I'm so sorry.
Do you want to talk about it?
No, I just gotta hit the cold plunge, that's all.
Well, listen, unprocessed grief can build up in the body.
It can be as toxic as nitrates.
Good looking out.
Why don't we push breakfast? We can process together before meditation.
-Yeah, good call. I like that. -And, babe?
You look great.
When you're smiling
When you're smiling
The whole world
Smiles with you
Ooh-la-la.
And when you're laughing…
Ugh, Cupcake Chardonnay.
Ugh!
-Hey. -Greetings.
Hey, buddy.
-Beautiful night, huh? -Oh yeah.
-Oh yeah. It's nice out. -Beautiful night. Nice night.
Doesn't get better than this.
Arizona is known for their beautiful nights.
They don't have daylight savings time, so they have more night.
-That's right. I always forget that. -Yeah.
Because if you start a job at noon and it's done by 1:00…
-Mm-hmm. -…it's still noon.
Ben Franklin came up with that.
Yeah.
If they could just fix their roads, it'd be the perfect state.
Who's the, uh, drummer?
Oh, I don't know.
She pushed that car in here like an hour before you pulled in.
I give her about an hour until she calls her daddy to come fix that Caddy.
Golden Fisk, you think you're hot shit, don't you?
You're not hot shit.
You smug son of a bitch.
-Hey, how much for the boy? -What's "the boy"?
The car… The golf boy. The cardboard. The cutout.
Oh, that ain't for sale. That's one of those promotional things.
Well, okay. How much do you want for it?
Twenty bucks.
Hey. What's the problem?
-Huh? -You're having car troubles?
Shit car. Nothing I can't handle.
-Here. -Ha.
-Some potato chips. -Gracias.
You got it. I hope you get it fixed.
You know, I can, uh… I can fix just about anything.
Motors, electronics, things like that.
Not me. If that bus over there breaks down, I lose my shit.
Ah, I got a trick for that. What was your favorite candy bar when you were a kid?
Milky Way. Why?
Well, next time you're about to lose your shit,
get yourself a delicious Milky Way.
-Uh-huh. -Delicious beats bullshit every time.
It works.
Well, good luck with the car.
-Thank you. -All right.
-Thanks for the Takis. -You got it.
Funny you like Milky Ways, because I liked Baby Ruth.
-I was kind of a weird kid. -Yeah.
-I mean, who likes Baby Ruth? -Baby Ruth's all right.
-They're not even named after Babe Ruth. -Okay.
It's named after Grover Cleveland's daughter, Ruth.
Oh, I didn't know that.
She wasn't even a baby.
Delicious beats bullshit.
All right. Good night.
Stacy, I saw that your son is at the top of the leaderboard in the Phoenix Open.
-Yes. I'm so excited! -Stacy, that's wonderful.
Thank you. Well, I'm very proud of Lance. He's very determined.
And he's got the prettiest little thing for a fiancée.
I mean, just cute as a button. She's a…
She says she's an aspiring wellness influencer.
Whatever the heck that means.
It means she needs a job, Radford. That's what that means.
I'm so sorry, ma'am, but your card has been declined.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
God damn it.
-Hel… Hello? -Fuck you, Lonnie!
Fuck you big-time!
Straight up the ass! Straight up the ass!
Okay. Colorful language early in the morning.
Can you explain to me how my credit card just got declined?
-Was it Citibank? -Yeah.
Yeah, I maxed that one out. I had to get satellite for the bus.
But I bundled, so it's kind of good news.
Do you understand that I'm trying to get my business off the ground,
and you are just putting us further and further and further into debt?
It's stressful, Lonnie.
Hey, sugar. It only takes one Tour victory. You know that.
You haven't been on the Tour in seven years, you dickless cunt.
There's a big variety of words in the English language.
So, do you have to keep returning to the same five or six?
And by definition, a cunt is dickless.
A cunt doesn't have a dick, so it's just redundant.
Let me tell you something. If you ever embarrass me again
with a denied credit card,
I will split your head open and take a dump inside, you fuckface.
And also…
-Wow. -…sign the divorce papers, asshole.
And also, I wanted to say I heard about Old Henry,
and I'm very sorry to hear that.
On a separate note.
-Real quick, what are you wearing? -Lonnie. No, don't.
-Okay. Yeah. -I gotta go.
God, it smells like shit in here. Oh, that's why.
You are a ball. I am a man.
Classic redemption story.
We both come from humble beginnings, yet together we will reach
unimaginable heights.
Tell no one of our transgressions
in the greater Scottsdale area.
Ow.
You cheeky strawberry ball.
You bit me.
You really gotta do this every hole? It's mini golf.
I know. I know. We're getting there.
Okay. Plays a little right to left. You know the reason why I know that?
'Cause I walked the course an hour before you got here.
-You walked the course before I got here? -Shh! Quiet, please.
-Oh! -Oh, yikes.
-Oh, that's not how it's done. -Nope.
-You know what your problem is? -What's that?
Despite all that pre-shot bullshit,
you still got no focus.
That's how you do it.
-You taking notes? -No, I saw. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
With this little plastic putter too.
I'll give it to you. That's a good shot.
You can't win now, you know. You gotta hole out on 18 just to tie.
-Wait. You're actually keeping score? -Oh, like you weren't.
No, I just thought this was a… friendly father-son rendezvous.
-I didn't know it was a real game. -Sounds like too much pressure for ya.
-Too much pressure? -Yeah.
All right, hotshot. Next hole, I tie, you buy.
Great.
-Hmm. -By the way, that…
-Even though it bounced out, that counts. -Yeah, it counts.
Lonnie Hawkins here on the 18th hole
with a must-make putt if he wants to stay in this.
He's probably thinking Pebble Beach 2010.
His one chance at all four majors.
He choked then.
He'll probably choke now.
No-look putt.
Uh-huh.
-It's in. -No.
-Zero discipline, Dad. -Yeah!
No.
-No. -Ugh.
Look, I missed on purpose. That's what dads do.
The problem is…
…the cookie dough gets caught in the straw sometimes.
-Sure you don't want any? -Yeah, I'm sure.
And the problem is dairy.
-Chemical additives, sugar. -Uh-huh.
You're out of breath just sucking on that fucking thing.
Why don't you just do meth?
'Cause it's not as delicious.
-Why are you out here, Dad? -What do you mean?
I'm having a great day with my only son,
who I love about as much as this… delicious shake.
You know what I mean.
Why are you still driving the old tour bus around?
I'm chasing the career Grand Slam.
What?
You've been in the Korn Ferry seven years. You haven't won shit.
You afraid I'm gonna make it back on the Tour?
Huh? Make you look bad?
No, I would fucking crush you, Dad.
-You would not crush me. -Know what the guys are saying?
They're saying I'm the Hawk now.
-You're fucking with me. -No.
You're fucking with me.
-Ah. -It's not gonna work.
'Cause you know what? I play the game up here, kid.
I have an animal brain.
Nice try.
Why don't you just retire?
Join the Senior Tour.
Senior Tour's for seniors. You wouldn't say that to Mickelson.
Mickelson doesn't owe his wife half a million dollars.
-Why don't you just join the LIV Tour? -The Arab League?
Whoa…
-What? -I don't… I don't think you can say that.
It's not real golf.
It is. They're throwing real money around.
It's not about money. It's about winning that fourth major.
Besides, money problems that your mom and I have, that's between us.
Yeah, well, she needs the money.
Well, what about, uh, that dork she hangs out with?
-Isn't he rich? -Who, Radford?
Radford! Yeah, Radford.
She doesn't want his money. She wants her money.
Did she send you here to tell me that?
If this was coming from Mom, there'd be a lot more swearing.
-There would. -Yeah.
God, greatest woman of all time.
Sexy as all get out.
-Okay. -Sexy!
-You're talking about my mom. -I know. My wife. Your mom.
-Okay. -Sexy.
-All right. -Can I be honest with you about something?
Go ahead.
Okay. Your stance when you're hitting your irons…
-Oh my God. -It's a little bit off.
You need to move your back leg just…
about a half a dick's length.
Just back. You get a lot more power, a lot more leg.
Is that half your dick's length or half my dick's length?
-It's a big difference. -Well, my dick is your dick.
'Cause your dick came out of my dick.
No, I'm pretty sure I got my dick genes from Mom's side.
You got your dick genes from me. She has vagina genes.
-No. -I'll take a test any day of the week.
-Does it show… -It'll show that I--
-It shows what side the dick comes from? -Predominant… Yes.
It'll prove that I have the dick genes.
I think this is my cue.
Wait, that's it?
What do you mean, "that's it"? We've been here for four hours.
Has it… Really?
Yeah. And plus, I gotta go look at my swing tapes.
I got date night. I got things to do.
Oh yeah. Hey, uh…
How's Denise?
-Who? -Denise!
Who the fuck is Denise?
You know, your… your gal.
Natalie?
Oh yeah. Natalie.
Natalie's great. And we're engaged.
All right, well, hey! I missed on purpose.
Bye, Dad.
There's only one Hawk. Heh.
Come on, Lonnie.
Jesus H. Christ.
Mr. Hawkins. We're closing. I gotta cut the lights.
-Okay, but I still got two buckets left. -Yeah, I know.
Policy.
Good night, Golden.
I'll fucking kill you.
Come on.
Stop laughing at me!
This one's for you, turkey tits.
Yeah.
-Hey. -What are you still doing here?
-Thought you'd be gone. -I need a part.
The junkyard doesn't open up till Monday.
-Oh. -I looked you up.
You were a big shot golfer.
I still am a big shot golfer.
What are you doing here?
My son Lance, he plays on the Tour.
So I'm gonna head over to Wild Wings and watch him on TV.
Your kid a golfer like you?
I wouldn't say like me. He's a golfer. Yeah. You like golf?
Do I look like I do?
It seems like a huge waste of time.
Best waste of time in the world.
Oh, hey.
Ah, I got you a present.
Oh.
Thank you. I like your hair, by the way.
It's like we go to the same barber.
Scottie Scheffler here with a putt more difficult than it looks.
He's got just over 30 feet for birdie.
Yeah, most players have been leaving this putt well out to the left.
They think that ridge is going to make it swing right,
but the grain's holding it out there.
Let's go over to 12, our leader.
Hawkins Jr. has gotten himself into a bit of a mess.
I would not want to be in his shoes right now.
The way Scheffler and Morikawa are playing,
he can't afford to drop any shots if he wants to maintain his lead.
It looks like he's going with a 7-iron.
-I don't know what he's thinking here. -Something we're not seeing?
Come on, son. Half a dick's length back.
Hoo-hoo!
-Like I told you. That's my son. -That's the shot of the day.
-Maybe the tournament. -That's my son. Shot of the day!
-How did he do that? -I'll tell you how he did it.
He listened to his old man. That's how he did it.
That's my kid.
He's doing a phenomenal job.
His father used to come with incredible shots.
-I sure fucking did. -But that was something special.
Yeah, as good as Lonnie Hawkins was at getting out of trouble,
I don't know that he could have made that shot.
Oh, shut the fuck up.
Kid is in a league of his own.
He's got Lonnie's bravery, that's for sure.
-I don't know about that. -But the skill is next-level.
With one tour win already and a couple top-tens under his belt,
-he's going to be in the conversation… -Excuse me.
You mind changing the channel? I'm sure there's some other sports.
I wouldn't be surprised if he eclipsed his dad one day.
-Want to change the channel, please? -Oh yeah.
This kid is better than his father ever was.
Yeah, he's probably sitting in a bar somewhere
wishing he were back on the Tour again.
What a waste of talent.
I heard he maxed out his credit card to get satellite for his bus.
What a loser.
I hear he's still chasing that Grand Slam.
Let's be honest, the only Grand Slam he'll ever get is at Denny's.
Ah, that dickless cunt, he's never coming back.
Hey, Lonnie, go to the Salvation Army, drop off your clubs,
find an open grave and jump in it, because you are not the Hawk anymore.
I hear you, but what if he won three Korn Ferry Tour events?
What if he got back on the PGA Tour?
Imagine if he finally won that US Open,
completes the Slam.
That would be one of the greatest stories ever told.
So go ahead, Lonnie.
Enjoy that Milky Way.
Sir.
I put the game on for you.
I'm not done yet.
Lonnie Hawkins isn't done, all right? I'm the Hawk, not him.
And I'm gonna enjoy this Milky Way, God damn it.
Okay.
Enjoy.
Delicious… beats bullshit.
Delicious beats bullshit.
Hey! Wake up!
I didn't do shit!
Yes, you did. You were right! The candy bar was a miracle.
It did the trick.
You want a job?
What kind of job?
-I need a caddie. -What's a caddie?
Carry my golf clubs around. You carry a bag full of golf clubs.
Uh…
-How much? -I'll give you 500 a day.
-Just for carrying a bag of clubs? -If I win, I'll give you 3,000.
Oh… fuck you!
-Yeah, right. -Yeah. No, no lie.
No lie.
Well… are you gonna win?
-Damn straight. -All right.
-Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna win. Yeah! -I like that. You can do that.
Tournament's in Georgia.
-You like Georgia? -I love Georgia.
All right. When we're done, I'll drive you back. You can fix your car.
That's not my car. I'll just grab my shit, and we'll go.
-Okay. -All right.
Oh, uh…
Just to be clear,
I'm not gonna fuck you.
Let's do it. Shake a titty bone. Let's go. I don't pay you to stand around.
All right. Let's do this!
You're gonna be a caddie!
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