The fight is the thing. All else is conversation.
You walk miles across manicured grass in strange clothing and have to put up with boring stories about work you're not interested in dragging a bag that keeps getting stuck and has more in it than the store you bought it from. But then, you swing just right and the ball goes like a well aimed rocket and the sound off the club is the sweetest "tink" ever made. Same thing.
You drag yourself out of bed in the dead of winter and get out of a perfectly warm car to go into a very dark, very cold ocean. Then you catch one that rears up and you're racing along, fully in control. Surfboard and man as one, carving up and down, turn after turn. Perfect lines. Same thing.
Enduring hour after hour of ack hugging, Dora running, window licking, chest beating, gangtarding "pilots", someone will come from somewhere and for about five minutes you can match move for move, turn for turn and feint for feint. And in that small time you can completely immerse yourself in the fight. Then when you review the film you're shocked that what you thought was about 30 minutes, was in fact five. And, in the end, winning is good and losing is irrelevant.
Get that and you'll get why I play Aces High.
