Written by Stephen F. Moloney (Instagram: ‘stephenfmoloney’; Email: cheekyninegolf@gmail.com) Hey everybody! It’s coming on three weeks since I published the final two chapters of ‘MUSTANG’, so I hope you all enjoyed them – and, for those of you who’ve just started reading the story in the last few weeks, I...
Hey everybody! After being asked about this by some readers, this is just a really quick update to say that if any of you have any artwork or things of that nature that you or your kids have done off the back of reading Mustang, then I’d be more than...
After the buzz of joining the New Malo Pirates, the rest of Mustang’s first week at St. Nick’s flew by without much in the way of excitement. He became a little more used to Ray’s own particular brand of early morning wake-up calls. He got the hang of getting the...
“Oh, hey there, Fletcher!” said Conrad, hoping an overzealous display of confidence would mask his obvious consternation at having his little get-together rumbled. “You’re out late, aren’t you?!” “I could say the same about you,” replied Fletcher, his eyes slowly scanning the scene in front of him as he stepped...
If his first week at St. Nick’s had passed by without much in the way of excitement, Mustang’s second week roaming the halls of New Malo’s one and only Catholic junior high more than made up for it. After following up their ‘clear the air’ session on the range with,...
There are some moments in your life that are so utterly surreal when they’re happening that you can’t help but feel as though you should be pinching yourself every five minutes just to make sure that it’s all actually real and not just some terrific dream you’re hoping against hope...
After booking his ticket to Seminole, the next few days wound up passing in something of a blur for Mustang. Understandably, there was the initial delight in the hours immediately following the successfully struck 3-wood which had sealed his position as Dallas’s alternate, with calling Travis to tell him the...
Mustang had vague recollections of having a lot of bad chest infections when he was really young; ones that would leave him with these gratingly-loud, bark-like coughs that made him sound as though he’d inadvertently swallowed a beat-up car engine somewhere in-between his steady diet of PB&J sandwiches and off-brand...
* As this is essentially two chapters together, keep an eye out for the asterisks (*) – they act as nice natural stopping points * Once the R&A had seen their fill of the carnage Caesar had been wreaking on the final round – not to mention their need to...
Having lived in Florida before making the move to Marais des Voleurs, Mustang wasn’t exactly a stranger to ‘bad weather’. Whether it be the mid-summer rainy season where any given afternoon carries the threat of seeing the sky being ripped apart at a second’s notice by some torrential thundershower or...
Having endured the excruciating wait for Spieth, Morikawa, and Rahm to all hit their second shots – with each time he saw their respective efforts landing within makeable distance of the hole feeling like just another sprinkle of salt in his self-inflicted wounds – Mustang, after using every ounce of...