I saw the face of Satan and heard him hiss on Sunday: "I'll come over there and smack you in the mouth," he said while looking for his golf ball. "I enjoy kicking the shit out of people." (glare of yellow eyes)

"This is my ball." That's all I said before he went crazy. I knew instantly I had awakened EVIL, but it was too late even to apologize for nothing. I was 61 years old and hadn't fought since childhood, but I was ready with my sand wedge. Fortunately, he stopped a few feet from me, like a dog at an electronic fence. (bearded face throbbing with red veins)

The blue sky turned green, the grass orange, the air sizzled like a frying steak, and he repeated himself: "I'll come over there and smack you in the mouth," he snarled. Thirty years younger, one hundred pounds heavier, he didn't cross the fence line where I stood my ground, not daring to breathe or look away. We both stepped back, then – one angry, one surprised – and turned warily to our games. (sickening smell and hot breath behind me)

Later, our paths nearly crossed again on the second nine holes when I heard him in the next fairway (he never hit a straight shot) cursing and growling at someone else: "I'll come over there and smack you in the mouth." I looked steadily away.