Rabbit Is Rich

Rabbit is Rich"I hit the ball ok," Rabbit Angstrom says, "but damned if I could score." It is the great weekend of gas drought, June 1979. He is sitting in green bathing trunks at a white outdoor table at the Flying Eagle Tee and Racquet Club with the partners of his round and their wives and, in the case of Buddy Ingle-finger, girlfriend. Buddy had once had a wife, too, but she left him for a telephone lineman down near West Chester. You could see how that might happen, beca...