Odo's Trials and Tribulations in Getting Good at Golf Part IV

I'd like to apologize to my dedicated readers as I'm sure the majority of you have been at the edge of your seats perusing THE BOOK and Twitter for the link to my recent golf diary.  Life had unfortunately gotten in the way.  Between school and the Bruins, I haven't had much time to sit down and write this blog entry.  Thanks for your patience and let's talk whack sticks!!

Saturday April 30, 2011:

Course:  Juniper Hills - Lakeside Course

Holes:  18

Par:  71 (36 on the front 9, 35 on the back)

Attire:  Pastel Pink polo, black shorts

Other Participants:  The Artist Formerly Known As Jim Barry, MikeyMo, Super Alby

Well, the round started and ended with a bang.  The Artist Formerly Known As Jim Barry was supposed to be the fourth member of our group, but decided to not show up.  Don't worry, though.  TAFKAJB regretfully made us aware at 11:30 AM that he wasn't going to make it.  Thanks for the heads up, TAFKAJB!  We only teed off at 8:24 AM - speaking of which, you owe me $63 for your round of golf.

You may ask why I am referring to James as TAFKAJB.  Well, fact of the matter is I haven't seen him in about a year.  As far as I know, not only is he breaking golf promises and tee times, but he's also crushin' ass and breakin' girls hearts.  He's a modern day Sean Michaels.  It just so happened that I saw him Monday night at our softball game.  Not only has he lost his ability to respond to golf invites, but he's also lost his athletic ability.  TAFKAJB was pitching.  Pitching!?!?  C'mon, TAFKAJB!  You're better than that!

This round of golf was over before it started.  I am not going to bother you with the details.  I'll summarize it by saying that all three of us played worse than the Philadelphia Flyers are playing as I write this (down 2-0 1:03 into the first period).  There were only two parred holes between the three of us.  Aggression, frustration, and boredom were the themes of today's misery.  Some highlights:

- I lost 9 balls.  Prior to starting the round, I commented on how I was still on my first box of balls this season, which is a pretty remarkable feat for as someone as piss poor at golf as me.  Well, I ate my words as I launched 5 into the water and 4 into the woods on this day.

-  MikeyMo nearly killed the foursome in front of us.  Before panic sets in, let it be known that the foursome in front of us were the biggest douches that ever douched.  They were around the same age as us, but may have been the biggest meatheads I will ever see on a golf course (besides Eazy E after a few beers).  They also made us look like all-stars.  We repeatedly waited on each tee box for these jackasses to get moving on the holes.  That's beside the point.  MikeyMo lined his tee shot into the following hole's tee box.  Should he have yelled "FORE"?  Yeah, prolly.  But he didn't care.  And neither did SuperAlby or me.  These kids deserved it.  As we approached the green, tempers flared a bit.  Given the fact that I was having the shittiest round of my life, I was feeling saucy.  While words were being exchanged, I walked over to these guys' cart and took one of their Coors Lights.  I cracked it open and all heads turned with the "tssssss" noise of opening the can.  One of the douches asked me what I was doing and approached me.  I took a swig of the beer, slammed the rest on the ground, and sucker punched him across the jaw.  They didn't f*ck with us the rest of the day.

                 Half-Jew on a Power Trip - 1
                 Douches                             - 0

-  MikeyMo stopped scoring on the 14th hole and I stopped caring.  I lined two balls into the water and a third one flubbed into the fairway.  My power trip was on a heater, so I took my driver and threw it as far as I could.....aaaaand it went farther than the drive itself.  SuperAlby was the only one of us left caring

-  Because we didn't care, MikeyMo and I decided to turn Juniper into our very own Rainbow Road race track:

Turtle shells became golf balls and the golf karts were not returned in the same shape than were prior to our round.  That's what happens after a shit round of golf mixed in with some douches and a few Milwaukee's BEAST.

Front 9:  60 strokes

Back 9:  55 strokes

Total:  115 – I hate this game

Place: who cares?  we suck.

Lost Balls: 9

Food:  N/A

Drink:  Milwaukee's BEAST (3), sip of Coors' Light

Tobacco: N/A

Cart:  Yes

Rate:  $63 (including cart)

Sunday May 1, 2011:

Course:  Westborough Country Club

Holes:  9

Par:  36

Attire:  Pink shirt, black pants, hot white belt

Other Participants:  The Sandman, RicRoc

 

April showers bring May flowers and shitty golf game.  This round wasn't about me, however.  This round was ALL about The Sandman's meltdown of EPIC proportions.  In a previous entry, I compared The Sandman to Michael Jordan.  He retires.  He comes back.  He retires.  He turns to softball.  He comes back.  Well, this comparison isn't true.

The Sandman is the f*ckin' Brett Favre of golf - right down to the sext messaging.  The season is a mere month old and The Sandman has already retired and made a come back three times.  This round of golf was the equivalent of Brett Favre getting knocked the f*ck out against the Patriots this past season.  

The Sandman was a Happy Sandman for the first four holes.  He wasn't having the best round of golf, but he was still having a good time.  He's come to realize that he sucks at the sport and will never be nearly as good as I am.  But Happy Sandman flipped the switch to Hulk Sandman on the 6th hole.  His frustrations took a toll on him.  He hulked out BIG time taking every single ball from his bag and insisting he hit them all off the tee box until one went straight.

Swing

Swing

Swing

Swing

Swing

Swing

RicRoc and I watched Hulk Sandman line six straight balls into the woods.  That was a nice waste of money.  On the 7th hole, things didn't get much better.  In fact, they actually got funnier.  RicRoc and I weren't even at the tee box before we heard the mouth of a truckdriver and saw a 6-iron flying over our heads.  Similar to this:

Hulk Sandman proceeded to walk off the course.  Needless to say, the ride home after the round wasn't awkward at all.  Someone get Hulk Sandman a girlfriend.  Kid needs to relieve some MAJOR stress.  Needless to say, after this round, the world awaits the Hulk Sandman's decision.  Will he play?  Is he coming back?  Will he wear his Wrangler jeans ever again?  Will he text you a picture of his wanker?  I can't stand it!  Don't tease us Hulk Sandman!!!!!

One more round!  One more round!  

Front 9:  49 strokes

Place:  1st of 3

Lost Balls: 0

Food:  Peanut M&Ms

Drink:  Mike's Hard Lemonade (tis the season!)

Tobacco:  SNUSS

Cart:  N/A

Rate: $20

For those of you tracking at home, I've spent close to $300 on golf already between actual rounds and driving range seshes.  However, this $300 is for more than just golf.  It's for the story-telling, the sight-seeing, and the occasional Hulk-out.

Until next time.....

Odo's Trials and Tribulations in Getting Good at Golf Part III

Third chapter of a series

It was cold. It was rainy. It was holy. This weekend failed to generate any good conditions for my Quest for 99. But hi-yo f*ckin' silver, I was NOT about to be stopped. My passion and desire for getting good at golf was not going to be disturbed by the elements or Jesus Christ, the Lord and Savior. After all, I'm half-Jewish. Easter only lasts until noon for me. Post-noon, I'm as free as a bird - Nelly Furtado style. Nothing could come in the way between me and this blog diary. Something probably should have though because I played like total ass all weekend long. 18 holes of absolute dog sh*t swings. I'm blaming it on softball taking over my life for summer and have since contemplated retiring from softball to fully focus on getting good at golf. After all, if this guy can do it (Quitting Job for Golf), then why can't I? Then I realized that softball is the only sport I'm actually good at. It's the one thing in life that I can be proud of myself about - well, that and my knowledge of Autobots and Decepticons. Despite my failures in this petty game called "golf", I stand by a quote from the movie, Tin Cup:

"Sex and golf are the two things you can enjoy even if you're not good at them."

Well, as evidenced by my love life, I'm sure as hell not good at knockin' da' boots. As evidenced by this running diary, I'm sure as hell not good at golf either. One would think with all of my "research" and practice that I'd be better at making love and playing golf. Apparently, practice doesn't make perfect.

On with this weekend's rounds..

Friday April 22, 2011:

Course: Westborough Country Club

Holes: 18

Par: 36

Attire: Jeans, track jacket

Other Participants: DADmau5

This is the first time that DADmau5 had golfed in a little over a year. He hates the game. Him and I really prove that the Hockey-Golf Pythagorean Theorem is a farce. According to most people, if you play hockey, then you're also good at golf. DADmau5 played junior hockey back in the day. Hockey was his thing. However, his hockey skills fail to translate to the golf course. He's pretty damn awful. He's actually worse than me. Even worse, he has the attention span of a 12-year old Condition. Despite disorder, DADmau5 is not very skillful with the whacksticks.

My round started off so promising. I drilled the opening drive on the first teebox about 275 right down the middle of the fairway. It was easily the best shot of the young season for me. I was feeling good and proud that I was showcasing my ever-increasing golf talents to DADmau5. I then appropriately lined my 2nd shot off a tree and the ball caromed into the 9th fairway. Well, this round went to shit pretty quickly.

1st Hole - Bogey
2nd Hole - Bogey

I hate the 3rd hole at WCC. It eats up all my balls and I have NEVER landed in the fairway off my drive. I'm forever playing up the right side. This hole is a bitch. It's hilly. It's long. It flat out sucks. My first tee shot sliced into the woods. My second tee shot sliced into the woods. Well, this is fun when you are hitting 5 off the damn tee box. I'm done going into details with this hole. It hurts too much.

3rd Hole - 6 over par. (Yep, I shot an 11).

It was soon thereafter that DADmau5 and I lost focus on the round. It was 6 PM. I was hungry and cold. Even more so, I was sober. No beer in my bag. No tobacco. No nothing. From this experience, that I can tell you that not only is sober golf boring, but it also makes me worse. Just a single Bud Light would have taken the edge off golf.

As we approached the 5th hole, DADmau5's attention was shot. He wanted nothing to do with golf. His tee shot flew right into the woods. Rather than drop, he decided to venture into the woods to find his ball. I proceeded to bogey the hole and had ZERO idea where DADmau5 was. A minute later, I see DADmau5 emerge from the woods with an armful of golf balls. Having lost 4 balls on the first 4 holes, DADmau5 was proud that he was now +6 in golf balls having just found 10 in the woods. He could go home happy now.

At this point in time, the round was over. I shot a 40 through 6 holes and then we quit. WOOF. Get 'em next time!

Front 6: 40 strokes

Place: Yeah, we didn't keep track

Lost Balls:2

Food: N/A

Drink: N/A

Tobacco: N/A

Cart: N/A

Sunday April 24, 2011:

Course: Westborough Country Club

Holes: 9

Par: 36

Attire: Mint Polo, black shorts, plaid hat

Other Participants: The Sandman

The night before was a bit hazy. We watched the Bs game over at Lee Thargy's house with about 40 other people, including the one and only Super Mario (Westboro's finest plumber). Last weekend Lee Thargy and Super Mario commented on how they wanted to get into golf this summer. So, being the nice guy that I am, I called them the next morning to go hit the links. No answer. Once again on this night, they said how they wanted to go out the next morning. Yeah, that wasn't happening. I'm pretty sure I'll never see Lee Thargy or Super Mario on the course this summer. The day I do, I'll buy them a Sam Summah in the clubhouse after our round. The only way you'll find Lee Thargy on the golf course this year is if Eric Church was out there. Lee Thargy would have his nose so far up EC's ass that EC and Lee Thargy would truly define the term "putting from the rough".

This was a round for the ages. It was competitive, but fun. No frustrations out there on this day. The Sandman and I were out there just to have a good time on Easter Sunday. Surprisingly, the course was empty. We took our time, shot the shit. It was a nice little Sunday man date.

The Sandman teed off on Hole 1 and sliced his drive into the 9th fairway. For those of you who haven't had the opportunity to play with The Sandman, this is nothing out of the ordinary. When you golf with The Sandman, you can fully expect to not see him for the first 20 minutes of the round as he plays up the 9th fairway, while mostly everyone else is sitting in the fairway. My first drive was lined straight up the middle again.

At this point in time, granted, it's early in the season, I have been hitting my Ping G2 driver pretty damn well (Shout out to Shock & Spock for supplying it). I am not sure what I am doing right, so why don't you readers be the judge:

Sure as hell looks pretty to me. And let's talk about how awesome that shirt is. It's quickly becoming my go-to as summer looms. (Note to self: expand your wardrobe.)

This started as the round of my life.

1st Hole - Par
2nd Hole - Par
3rd Hole - Bogey

Yes, that 3rd Hole that treated me to an 11 two days before, managed to give me a measly 6 on this day. Things were clicking not only for me, but also The Sandman. The kid landed a 20 foot put on the 2nd Hole. I actually recorded the putt and believe it or not, this took only one shot to successfully record:

Through 3 holes, I was at 1 over par, while The Sandman sat at 4 over.

I hit a bit of a rough patch on the 4th hole and shot a 7.

Hole 4 - Triple bogey
Hole 5 - Double bogey
Hole 6 - Double bogey

WOOF. Three shit holes. Meanwhile, The Sandman had made up 2 strokes on me. I went from 1 over to 8 over pretty damn quickly. And just like that, my Quest for 99 was shot (or was it?!)

Upon teeing off on Hole 7, I commented how we hadn't cracked a beer or popped in some Snuss yet. I lectured The Sandman on how golfing with a little bit of a buzz took the stress off and increased my performance. Like the cool Joe Camel he is, he threw a Snuss tin over to me and I popped one in. You'll never guess what happened next. Kid was on FIRE to close the round. Sitting at 43 strokes through 8, I realized that I would once again have an opportunity to break 50. My palms began to sweat and I began to twitch. Damn this Snuss really was getting to me. I teed off on Hole 9:

That drive right there was straight down the fairway. Holy shit, am I awesome or what!?!? A bogey on the final hole netted me the Golden 49. The Sandman finished with a 53. At this point in time, I may have to up my goals to playing bogey golf as opposed to just breaking 50. Our man date continued at DQ where we treated ourselves to Blizzards. DQ + Golf + 70 degrees = Summer time. Unfortunately, we realized that after a nice 10-year run, we no longer have any connections to discounted DQ ice cream. Holy shit, are we getting old....

Front 9: 49 strokes

Total: 49 – only 13 over par.

Place: 1st of 2

Lost Balls: 1

Food: N/A

Drink: N/A

Tobacco: Camel Snuss (frost flavor)

Cart: N/A

Until next time......I'm just trying to get good on the golf course and in the bedroom like my main man, Roy "Tin Cup" McAvoy.

Odo's Trials and Tribulations in Getting Good at Golf Part II

Second chapter of a series

As you know, I am documenting my plight to get good at golf.  I can confidently tell you that this weekend's rounds were a LOT more interesting than last weekend's.  I didn't get any better, so I've decided that I am truly golfing for the purpose of writing about it.

Listen, I suck at this sport.  I can't deny it.  I suck at every sport in fact.  I've accumulated 5 trophies in my life and all of them are those queer participatory ones.  Hey!  Here's a trophy just for playing.  I was cut from the middle school basketball team.  I was cut from the varsity baseball team for three years.  In my senior year, I was offered a bench sport and my coach said at the year-end banquet that I would "make a great coach someday."  Thanks Coach!  Why don't you just tell me I have no skills at all? 

Ok, on with the golf highlights from this past weekend...

Saturday April 16, 2011:

Course:  Juniper Hills - Riverside Course

Holes:  18

Par:  71 (35 on the front 9, 36 on the back)

Attire:  Black khakis, black thermal, white polo, black asshole hat

Other Participants:  The Sandman, MikeyMo, Super Alby

We teed off at approximately 8:27 AM.  It was f*ckin' cold out and we were the only jackasses on that course that early.  MikeyMo legitimately fell asleep while teeing off.  The Sandman was a bit hungover.  I was two Gordon Vodka nips deep.  Super Alby was dead serious.  We looked like a bunch of no-talent ass clowns:

We were all in good spirits before the round actually started.  Upon everyone teeing off and hoping on our Mario Karts to find our balls (mine was sitting pretty in the fairway), I shot some video footage of everyone's second shots.  Mind you, this video was recorded no more than two minutes later than the first:

With The Sandman coppin' that kinda 'tude with me two minutes into our round, I put the camera away in hopes that he didn't Dennis Rodman my ass and kick me.  Needless to say The Sandman did not have a pretty round on this day.  In fact, he gave true meaning to his nickname as the kid spent more time in the bunkers than I do perusing the Internet for Russian mail order brides.

Now, I was nervous as all hell because I failed to hit up the driving range on April 16th eve.  I was stiff.  I didn't like how my swing felt.  I was in for a long day.

It was a decent front 9 for me this time out.  The drives were straight.  The chips were pretty.  The putts were gorgeous.  I was in the zone.  Maybe Gordon's Vodka is the key to getting good at golf.  It was a typical Odo round of golf.  Par one hole, triple bogey the next, double bogey the next one.  It's not pretty, but that's why I dress as well as I do.  To cover up for the fact that I SUCK.

Best 9 holes of my career just happened.  Kid shoots a 50.  Who the f*ck needs golf lessons?  I'll teach myself.  I was just getting warmed up baby.  If I can shoot a 50 on the front, I should be more than adequate to break 50 on the back.  The Quest for 99 was well on its way.  Today was the day....

I was feeling good going into the turn.  The Gordon's Vodka wore off a bit, so we stopped at the clubhouse for a beer.  It went down smooth.  Less filling and tasted great.

Hole 10 - Bogey
Hole 11 - 4 over par
Hole 12 - 4 over par

Well this round quickly went to shit.  I finished the back 9 with a 56.  The Quest for 99 would have to continue another day.  However, there was one positive takeaway from the day:

Yep.  Despite my shit score, I played all 18 with only one ball.  THIS is how a successful golfer should be measured.  I decided on this day that I'd rather shoot a 109 and not lose a single ball than shoot a 97 and lose three balls.  I'll triple putt all I f*ckin' want as long as I don't lose any balls.  YAHTZEE.

Another key takeaway from this day was MikeyMo doing his best Happy Gilmore impression.  He absolutely LAUNCHED his pitching wedge onto a nearby train track.  This wedge launching occurred on the 16th hole and was pretty freakin' hysterical.  You had to be there for it.  Evenmore so, The Sandman put his clubs on Craiglist for a short period of time.  He retired from the game for good.

Front 9:  50 strokes

Back 9:  59 strokes

Total:  109 – only 38 over par.....I see some improvement!

Place: 3rd of 4 (The Sandman stopped counting strokes on the 7th hole)

Lost Balls: 0

Food:  Granola bar on Hole 8

Drink:  Gordon's Vodka nip (2), Coors Light draft (1)

Tobacco: N/A

Cart:  Yes

Rate:  $55 (including cart)

$/stroke:  $0.51 – this is getting expensive

Sunday April 17, 2011:

Course:  Westborough Country Club

Holes:  9

Par:  36

Attire:  Sunday Red polo, black pants, Freddie Couples visor

Other Participants:  MikeyMo, The Sandman, The Condition

Yes, you read that right.  The Sandman came out of his brief retirement.  The Sandman is like the Michael Jordan of golf.  I quit.  I'll play.  I quit.  I'll play.  He didn't get any good bids on his clubs, so he decided to play with us, but reminded us that he would retire again if necessary.

I wasn't feeling golf on this day.  For the sake of this blog, I hit the course anyway.  Rather than hit the range beforehand, The Sandman, The Condition, and I decided to down a few Sam Summers and warm-up via Tiger Woods on PS3.  My thumbs were on fire.  I was ready to play.  We pulled up to the course around 3:15 giving us a solid 10 minutes before our tee time.  MikeyMo was already on the practice green chipping and putting.  Apparently, he and his wedge made up and they were smushing each other again.

The Condition started today's festivities with a 275 foot drive just off the fringe of the fairway to which he said "I guess I'll take it".  F*ck you, Condition!  My ball's 150 yards from the tee box on the 9th fairway.  We were one stroke in and The Condition was already getting on my nerves.  I played the first hole via the 9th fairway the whole time.  While lying 4, I whipped out the ole 7-iron from about 150 yards out.  The Condition was a bit to my right 100 yards up.  Payback time was now:

 Pay no attention to the back hair or plumber crack.  Please turn your attention to the red circle.  That's a welt, ladies and gentlemen.  I lined my 7-iron right at The Condition and gave him a permanent tramp stamp in the process.  Did I yell "four" like golf protocol calls for?  F*ck no.  I wanted to hurt him.  Thanks to my "patience" and "determination", I was able to line a ball off The Conditions back yet still land it on the fringe of the green.  That's talent, baby!!  The Condition's back saved me with a opening hole 7.

1st Hole - 7

2nd Hole - 5

3rd Hole - 8

4th Hole - 4 (PAR!!)

Things were looking ugly.  24 strokes through 4 holes.  WOOF.  Today was not my day.  And then, the tides turned.

5th Hole - 5

6th Hole - 5

7th Hole - 4

Holy crap.  The unthinkable could happen.  Odo could break 50.  

8th Hole - 5

I was sitting at a 43 heading into the 9th hole.  I could shoot a 6 and still break 50.  I hit my drive off the 9th tee box about 175 yards on the fringe of the fairway.  So far so good.  I then broke out my trusty 3-wood.  My 3-wood and I have not been getting a long this season.  I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and swung.  The prettiest shot of my short golfing career.  200 yards about 10 feet off the green.  I was sitting at 45 strokes as I walked down the fairway.

Chip on.  46.

Putt.  47.

Putt.  48.

Holy crap.  I was about to blow it.  I took a deep breath.  All eyes on me.....about to witness the biggest shot of my life.

I laid about 6 inches out.  1 inch too short, I don't quite make it.  1 inch too long, I don't quite make it.  The inches I needed were EVERYWHERE around me.  Deep breath, Odo.  Nice and easy.  Just tap it in.

Kerplunk.  Ball in hole.  I am the f*ckin' man at golf.  I'm the man who has the ball. I'm the man who can hit it farther than f*ck. So that is why I am better than everyone in the world. Kiss my ass... everyone.

 

 

Front 9:  49 strokes

Total:  49 – only 13 over par!

Place:  3rd of 4

Lost Balls: 0

Food:  Granola Bar (1), Sunflower seeds (handfuls -2)

Drink:  None (WTF!?)

Tobacco: Camel Snuss (frost flavor)

Cart:  None

Rate:  $18

$/stroke:  $0.37

Until next time.....I'm still just trying to get good at golf.

Odo's Trials and Tribulations in Getting Good at Golf Part I

First chapter of a series.

I thought it would be a good idea to document my path to becoming a good golfer.  I currently do not have a handicap.  If I did, I’d be sitting pretty with 50.  I’m 27 years old and have golfed once or twice a year for the past 10 years.  However, I just really got into it last August after softball season.  It took one weekend golf extravaganza MC’d by The Condition to give me the itch.  After successfully shooting 120 on 18 holes each day, I decided the time was now…..that I could be a PGA golfer.

Now, I’d played my fair share of Tiger Woods on PS2 and PS3 in my day, so I knew what to do, how to swing, what clubs to use.  However, I had no idea how to spin a ball or power up my driver without the use of an R2 button.  So, I went out and bought all new stuff.  Screw the hand me down, bullshit.  I wanted the good stuff.  Say hello to the TaylorMade R9 irons, Rossa putter, and Ping G2 wood set.  Kiss the Wilson clubs goodbye.  Seriously?  Wilson?  No wonder I sucked so bad.

You’d never guess what happened – the clubs didn’t make my game any tighter.  I continued to suck.  And so begins Odo’s plight to get good at golf.

Saturday April 9, 2011:

Course:  Westborough Country Club

Holes:  18

Par:  72

Attire:  Black khakis, black thermal, silver polo, track jacket, Greg Norman straw hat

Other Participants:  RicRoc, MikeyMo, The Condition

I hit the driving range the night before.  I hadn’t swung my clubs since last November, so I needed to get some kinks out.  I was feeling good – nervous, but good.  The Condition pulled up to my condo around 7:30.  He proceeded to greet me with open arms, which is not usual.  He then proceeded to greet my toilet, which is very usual for him.  Upon him finishing him up in the boys room, we hopped in the Shoe and putted on over to Westborough Country Club for an 8:22 tee-time.  A frost delay caused a bit of a back-up on the first tee, but we broke out the big sticks around 8:50.  I stepped up to the tee box with all eyes on me – the entire town of Westborough watching one man and his driver.  I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and swung – straight down the fairway.  I dropped my driver, turned to MikeyMo and RicRoc, gave my best D-Generation X “Suck It” pelvic thrust and walked away.  I was done with golf for the year.  Not really….

I parred my first hole of the season.  It was incredible.  I should’ve quit while I was ahead because things only got worse.  However, I’d like to note that I only lost two balls on the day, which is a record for me.

Front 9:  56 strokes

Back 9:  58 strokes

Total:  114 – only 42 over par.  That’s less than a triple-bogey each hole!

Place:  4^th of 4

Lost Balls:  2

Food:  Granola bar on Hole 8

Drink:  Bud Lights (3)

Tobacco:  Cigar

Cart:  Yes

Rate:  $50 (including cart)

$/stroke:  $0.44 – that’s affordable!

Sunday April 10, 2011:

Course:  Westborough Country Club

Holes:  9

Par:  36

Attire:  Sunday Red polo, black shorts, white hat

Other Participants:  MikeyMo, The Sandman

Things were bound to get better on my second day out.  We teed off around 4 PM.  I broke out the Sunday Red with some black shorts.  If I can’t play the part, I might as well look the part.  

Bogey on 1 and then the unthinkable happened.  I teed off on 2 and drilled my Noodle ball about 10 yards from the green.  Holy sh*t!.  A little chip onto the green set the stage for the greatest golf moment in my short, but illustrious career.  Between me and a birdie stood 5 feet of green.  I took my time, closed my eyes, and putted.  THE BIRDDOG!!!!

Things were looking up.  I then shot a 9 on the 3^rd  hole proceeding to hit two trees in the process.  It was a tale of hot and cold because I parred the 4^th, triple bogied the 5^th, and bogied the 6^th.  Somehow, I was sitting at 33 after 6 holes and I began to think that I could possibly break 50.  Teeing off with a 7-iron on the par 3 7^th, I nailed the green, but stood about 45 feet from the pin.

1 putt

2 putt

3 putt

4

F*ck me!!  I lost it.  38 strokes through 7.  I put my drive on 8 into the woods – take another 2 strokes!

9 strokes on Hole 8.

6 strokes on Hole 9.

What could’ve been miraculous turned into a complete disaster.  I suck again!

Front 9:  52 strokes

Total:  52 – only 16 over par!

Place:  2^nd of 3

Lost Balls:  1

Food:  Chips Ahoy (4-pack), granola bar

Drink:  Bud Lights (3)

Tobacco:  None

Cart:  None

Rate:  $20

$/stroke:  $0.38 – even cheaper!