Canada
I got up this morning, and knew it was going to be a bad day. My better half had just headed out to work, and I had just turned the computer on to get some work done. I had the golf channel on in the next room, as i love to listen to infomercials when i work, you know, as "white noise" in the background. 
Just then, the cable went out. No modem, no TV. Since i need connection to do my work, i figured i'd get some stuff around the house done. I stepped into the shower and no longer than 2 minutes and the power went out.
Beautiful.
Well, if that wasn't a sign, i don't know what was.
About 20 minutes later, i pull into the course parking lot. I'm by myself, and i'm hoping i can get a round in. I get a half bucket and ask the guy to pair me up with someone that might come along in the next half hour. I head out to the range.
The range was sweet. The driver was working after 4 rounds of hiatus, and the irons started to come back. And the wedges were dialed. Perfect.
I hear my name called from the clubhouse to join up with a threesome on the teebox.
I meet my playing partners, 3 older gents, John, Jesse and a guy named Chopper. So right away, you know this is gonna be a sweet round.
I draw the short tee and have honours. I place a nice high drawing drive out about 315, just left of center about a yard. Things are good.
Chopper, about 70, tees off about 150 off the tee. Hitchy swing, but effective.
John, huge fat guy, like orca fat, hauls off with his GBBII about 215. Right side, but it'll work.
Jesse, older guy, near 70ish, has a terrible swing. And to top it off, he rhymes words together in conversation, which i couldn't really get a handle on. For example, he hits a thin drive about 160 and turns to be and says "That was thin.....the thin skin bin chin..." I was like, "WTF are you talking about buddy?" This went on for many, many holes. I found myself chuckling along more out of shear entertainment.
After workng myself to a one over front nine, i was feeling pretty good. I had 11 putts through 9, things were pickin up.
Then the adventure began. After parring the par 3 10th, the next was a par 5. I drew three consecutive bad lies, one on a root and two other in undulating fairway with awkward feet/ball positions. After some stick handling a nice 7 appeared on the card. Terrific. "Seven Eleven from Heaven". Thanks Jesse.
The next hole is a tough par 4 over water from 180 to 120 in. Tough green too. Ya, birdied it. Go figure.
The next par 4, took a 6.
Next hole, birdie.
Easiest par 5 on the course next, hit a 380 yard drive with the wind and put it to about 14 feet. Took a 5. Ya, i did the same thing last week. Terrible. And my putter had been so good today. Nuts.
Parred the next, doubled after that, and took a 7 on 18.
I was sick. I couldn't understand what the heck happened. It was night and day.
I went into the clubhouse to count strokes and feel sorry for myself. I was sitting there, watching the TV when the waitress/hired help/part time cart girl came over and sat down with me. She said she had seen me around alot, and wondered if I could take her out for a round sometime. (Please keep in mind, she's maybe 19 or 20. Pretty nice looking too.) I said sure, whenever she wanted to go, but i was thinking about my round and how "great" it was, and that would be a great opportunity to get some more golf in this week. Ya, not the fact that some young girl was hitting on me in the clubhouse. I'm sure my better half would have loved that!
Well, after some awkward conversation, i left the clubhouse with a scorecard that read too many and an open invitation to golf with the clubhouse vixen.
Should a guy be proud at this moment, or flattered?
I went home feeling astonished. Perhaps it was that I hadn't eaten breakfast. Perhaps it was that it had warmed up alot and i was wearing pants. Maybe it was the alignment of the planets.
Either way, i played terrible on the back nine.
"Back nine fine sine mine behind". Thanks again Jesse.
R35
Just then, the cable went out. No modem, no TV. Since i need connection to do my work, i figured i'd get some stuff around the house done. I stepped into the shower and no longer than 2 minutes and the power went out.
Beautiful.
Well, if that wasn't a sign, i don't know what was.
About 20 minutes later, i pull into the course parking lot. I'm by myself, and i'm hoping i can get a round in. I get a half bucket and ask the guy to pair me up with someone that might come along in the next half hour. I head out to the range.
The range was sweet. The driver was working after 4 rounds of hiatus, and the irons started to come back. And the wedges were dialed. Perfect.
I hear my name called from the clubhouse to join up with a threesome on the teebox.
I meet my playing partners, 3 older gents, John, Jesse and a guy named Chopper. So right away, you know this is gonna be a sweet round.
I draw the short tee and have honours. I place a nice high drawing drive out about 315, just left of center about a yard. Things are good.
Chopper, about 70, tees off about 150 off the tee. Hitchy swing, but effective.
John, huge fat guy, like orca fat, hauls off with his GBBII about 215. Right side, but it'll work.
Jesse, older guy, near 70ish, has a terrible swing. And to top it off, he rhymes words together in conversation, which i couldn't really get a handle on. For example, he hits a thin drive about 160 and turns to be and says "That was thin.....the thin skin bin chin..." I was like, "WTF are you talking about buddy?" This went on for many, many holes. I found myself chuckling along more out of shear entertainment.
After workng myself to a one over front nine, i was feeling pretty good. I had 11 putts through 9, things were pickin up.
Then the adventure began. After parring the par 3 10th, the next was a par 5. I drew three consecutive bad lies, one on a root and two other in undulating fairway with awkward feet/ball positions. After some stick handling a nice 7 appeared on the card. Terrific. "Seven Eleven from Heaven". Thanks Jesse.
The next hole is a tough par 4 over water from 180 to 120 in. Tough green too. Ya, birdied it. Go figure.
The next par 4, took a 6.
Next hole, birdie.
Easiest par 5 on the course next, hit a 380 yard drive with the wind and put it to about 14 feet. Took a 5. Ya, i did the same thing last week. Terrible. And my putter had been so good today. Nuts.
Parred the next, doubled after that, and took a 7 on 18.
I was sick. I couldn't understand what the heck happened. It was night and day.
I went into the clubhouse to count strokes and feel sorry for myself. I was sitting there, watching the TV when the waitress/hired help/part time cart girl came over and sat down with me. She said she had seen me around alot, and wondered if I could take her out for a round sometime. (Please keep in mind, she's maybe 19 or 20. Pretty nice looking too.) I said sure, whenever she wanted to go, but i was thinking about my round and how "great" it was, and that would be a great opportunity to get some more golf in this week. Ya, not the fact that some young girl was hitting on me in the clubhouse. I'm sure my better half would have loved that!
Well, after some awkward conversation, i left the clubhouse with a scorecard that read too many and an open invitation to golf with the clubhouse vixen.
Should a guy be proud at this moment, or flattered?
I went home feeling astonished. Perhaps it was that I hadn't eaten breakfast. Perhaps it was that it had warmed up alot and i was wearing pants. Maybe it was the alignment of the planets.
Either way, i played terrible on the back nine.
"Back nine fine sine mine behind". Thanks again Jesse.
R35
