Tiger Woods and Sergio Garcia are on holiday to Australia together, as part of a PR campaign aimed at getting them to bond and stop feuding. The pair arrive at a beach on a glorious day and decide to go for a swim.
After a while, a lifeguard blares out a message of warning with a megaphone. Everybody runs from the sea to the safety of the sand, with Tiger and Sergio amongst them. Tiger asks a nearby lifeguard to clarify what exactly is wrong. The lifeguard says nothing, but instead he gestures out to sea. As Tiger surveys the horizon, he quickly focuses on the ominous sight of a pair of fins.
“Is that…?” asks Tiger.
“Yeah!” says the lifeguard, cutting him off.
Meanwhile, Sergio turns to the pair.
“To hell with this!”
Sergio runs back into the sea, without any fear whatsoever. The lifeguard makes a brief attempt to chase him down, but Tiger grabs him and holds him back.
“Leave him be”, says Tiger. “If there’s one thing about Sergio Garcia, he’s not afraid to go back in to the water.
Sergio Garcia is playing poker against Tiger Woods. He’s got a flush, but he’s worried that Tiger might also have a similar hand. After a minute or two of eyeing each other up, Tiger puts in a big bet. Sergio sighs, clearly exasperated by the efforts of fathoming whether he has the best hand or not. Should he fold and give up the pot? Or should he call and look dumb if his hand is beaten. After trying to soul read Woods for a minute or so, Sergio mucks his hand and Tiger takes the pot. Not content with merely winning, Tiger shows his hand. As suspected, the hand is similar, a 10 high Club Flush. Sergio lets out a loud groan.
“Damn! I would have won with a Jack High Club Flush.”
“Whaddaya know! Even when you have better clubs than me, I still win!”
Sergio Garcia is in a bar, having a beer and contemplating life and golf. The bartender looks a little sorry for the Spaniard, who quietly sips his beer and stares straight ahead. Asking him if he’s OK, the barman gives the golfer a bowl of nuts and goes back to serving his other customers.
A little time passes. Suddenly, Sergio is on his feet. He pounds his fist on his chest and coughs loudly. The other customers are on their feet too. The Bartender is unfazed and barely notices the ructions as he polishes some beer glasses.
One of the other customers, a well-do-do London businessman, realises what the problem is:
“I say, Bar Keep! This chap appears to be asphyxiating on those nuts you provided him with. Are you not going to assist him in some way?”
The Bartender keeps polishing his glasses and shakes his head.
“Nah. He’s OK.”
“Are you quite sure, my good man?”
“Trust me. I’ve seen Sergio Garcia choke a lot worse than that.”