Jason Dufner and his hot wife Amanda are getting divorced.
I'm not going to lie, this one hit me hard. I'd come to rely on the Dufner's for welcome material here at Outkick. Whether it was Amanda golfing in her bikini or posting a topless photo on Instagram while they were on vacation, it's hard to say goodbye to yesterday, y'all. If the Dufner marriage isn't going to last, what is lasting? Will the Internet still trust us to bring them the most important stories about buttchugging and frat guys biting the heads off hamsters if marriages that we've championed for years can just end like this?
It's a very sad day at Outkick because this is the first time that an Outkick hall of fame member has seen his booming outkick punt returned for a touchdown -- although getting out of this marriage for just $2.5 million might be the equivalent of Amanda dropping the ball at the goal line just as she was about to score on the punt return touchdown.
This leaves Outkick with a series of monumental questions -- is Dufner still a hall of famer or do we have to hang up his spikes and rescind his Outkick hall of fame status until he, undoubtedly, finds another smokeshow to date or marry? Should we create a divorced wing of the Outkick hall? Do we add an asterisk to his hall of fame status, Roger Maris style?
These are important questions to answer as Outkick nears it's fourth birthday.
WHAT. DO. WE. DO?
(Aside from making a Dufner photo gallery. That's already in the works.)
Here I am, sitting in a new house, with a brand new office and a brand new desk, with all these new uncomfortable surroundings and I needed this marriage to continue. I needed to feel there was something I could rely on, something solid in my life. Instead, it's Outkick in winter. (Winter is coming on April 12th. That means our Monday Game of Thrones column is just 11 days away!) The only thing that's the same in my new office is my $400 Acer laptop computer from Costco -- it has a battery life now -- and I'm not making this up -- of 45 minutes and my trusty chair. Only, and I have no idea how this happens, we moved every damn thing we own into this new house except for all the wheels on my office chair. Somehow we lost a goddamn wheel. WHERE DID THE WHEEL GO? HOW DO YOU LOSE A WHEEL? Which means every time I move an inch the chair nearly topples over. I'm going to die here, toppling over at my desk, trying to click on a Twitter link one of you sent of me of Maty Mauk's new girlfriend at the beach. That's how this story all ends.
Anyway, pour one out for your boy, he's single and on the prowl.
Meanwhile, Amanda Dufner is a hot millionaire with no kids.
I think they'll both be fine.
At least that's what I keep telling myself as I sit here wobbling on my broken chair.
