Like a Warm Summer Rain

That's what it feels like right now.    It's nice and happy and soothing and I can't believe it's been so long since I've been out walking around in one.  See, I actually went to a tournament and won prizes this weekend. For the first time in 7 months.  No, the seven months is on the prize thing, not the playing thing.  Yeah, a long time.

It started like all the others and I found myself thinking those "not again" type thoughts (have you enjoyed my newfound affection for italics?  I'm a big fan) as I wandered annoy-ed-ly around Augusta trying to find somewhere to eat after my first round 64 at Riverview (although they should change the name in the summer to Kudzuview).  I eventually found a gas station with a Blimpie in it, walked inside and ordered three sandwiches.  After she'd made 'em I pulled out my wallet to find all of six bucks inside.  Annoyance squared.  Lucky for me I hadn't played doubles lately so there were a few dollars in my golf bag.

I pulled into the big P-K for a nice nap before the second round only to find that I didn't really have the time or inclination.  I settled for my sandwich and a few minutes staring down at some ants that seemed confused about why their sugar daddy wasn't feeding them anything.  As the second round came around I took a few putts and missed every one.  I resigned myself to another crappy tournament finish.

When the dust settled and the gummy worms were all gone (actually, Saturday's worms weren't genuine Gummy brand eisenia foetidae, though, they were some no-name brand.  For Sunday I went with the real thing although I can't say I could tell the difference) I'd somehow managed to shoot a one over par.  I felt pretty good about it until everyone else came in and had shot under.   At least it was respectable and moved me up a couple cards.

I can't really say I was determined to shoot a good round on Sunday and make the cut.  I mean, to be honest I didn't really want to make it, I wanted to watch the pro's play.  But despite OB's on my first and last holes (no GYN's anywhere that I could see) and a 6 on #10 I shot an even and, thanks to the extreme suckiness of a significant portion of the field I inched my way into the final round.

Ahhh, that final round.  I took some putts before it, too, and made even fewer than the zero I'd made before the second round.  Excellent.   I took the pad at 12:47 to the indifference of millions.  I flicked my Mr. X out there and watched it plow directly into the heart of the Green Monster, the hugest bush you've ever seen.  Thanks to two miserable putts I limped to the second pad with a 5 (after birdies on it the previous two rounds).

Now we get to the good part.  The second hole.  Earlier that morning I'd thrown my best drive of the year on that hole, putting an X2 (As to why doesn't exist I don't know, maybe Ten Squared Management, L.L.C (X14-DOM) are too lazy to put something up. Bastards.) ten feet from the hole.  I did it again.  Hole #2 isn't the world's toughest hole and there are players everywhere who'd respond to my amazing feats with a stirring, "So what?"  Thing is, what I'd just done is birdie a non-automatic birdie hole twice in a row.  Which is something I haven't been able to do.   Warm fuzzies, eh?

Anyway,  we had this cool guy Pat play with us (the non-me part of "us" being Ot) and played a mundo-relaxed round.  I shot another even par which, combined (again) with the monster suck of much of the rest of the field moved me up into the cash.  Count 'em, three shiny new discs and a tee-shirt.  I promptly gave away the discs 'cause I couldn't care less (but I kept the shirt 'cause I only have five times as many as I need already) but I sit here thinking about the hassles I've gotten about playing am (not because I'm any good but rather because at Wills park that have this silly notion that everyone should play pro. Mainly, I suspect, because it means more money for them to win.) and actually consider paying the extra and finding out what pro feels like.  We'll see.


Doug's thoughts on nothing in particular