The normally easy par-5 fourth hole at Leslie Park, has been anything but for me the first two days of the city championship. I've taken 14 blows on this hole so far, including a beautiful, triple bogey 8 today. (photo by Lon Horwedel)6:50 a.m. - Well, I have to admit, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind to start my day. Instead of sleeping in, like I had planned, I found myself stirred awake by the elegant sound of my 9-year-old son barfing in the bathroom.
"Geez, that's all I need." I thought as I rushed in to see if he was okay. "At least he made it to the bathroom instead of throwing up on his bed." Sure enough, the poor guy was in the bathroom, but he wasn't doubled over the toilet like I expected, he was sitting on it instead. He decided to take care of his bottom half, but in doing so he puked all over the floor at his feet.
My wife cleaned up his vomit as I went to the basement to get a bucket for future upheavals.
"I guess I'll withdraw from the tournament." I told my wife, who was getting ready for her fourth and final day as one of the selected artists in the Original Ann Arbor Street Art Fair.
"No, don't do that." She said. "My sister can come over and stay with him while you go play."
With that settled, now all I had to do was deal with the anxiety that's inevitably instilled anytime vomit is involved.
Soon you're thinking, "Do I feel warm? Am I a little nauseous too?" I mean I've thrown up on myself many times while coming down the stretch in contention at the city tournament - I just had never done it literally.
Just to be safe I looked in the mirror to see if I was as pale as my poor kid.
"Holy crap!" I said out loud as I glanced in the mirror.
"What's wrong now?" My wife asked.
"Look at me, I look like a frickin' match stick." I said.
Having teed off at 8:10 the previous morning, I sort of forgot to lather up the old noggin with sunscreen. Since it was so cool, it never dawned on me I might be getting a healthy, or, as it turns out, unhealthy dose of UV. The top of my balding pate was fine - white, smooth, and pure as a baby's bottom. But my neck and face were as red as Chief Wahoo, the much maligned mascot of my beloved Cleveland Indians.
"Wow, you do look like a match stick." My wife said.
"Great, not only am I worried about getting sick," I said, "but now I look like an idiot to boot!"
My wife stared at me, puzzled, as if to say "what's the difference, you are an idiot."
Now she's long gone at art fair, it's a little after 10, still more than three hours until I tee off. My son is watching Sponge Bob, looking much better than he did three hours ago. He said he thinks he got sick from his constant diet of free doughnuts the day before in the art fair's hospitality booth. I hope he's right.
Now it's off to clean my clubs, watch a little bit of the British Open and start my pre-round checklist for Day 2.
1) Clean clubs - check
2) Eat lunch - check
3) Go to the bathroom - check
4) Relax and take positive swing thoughts to the course - ?????
Well, two out of three ain't bad.
1 p.m. - Julie's sister arrives and I get ready to head for the course. My son has remained dry since his morning spewage. He's been watching a Sponge Bob marathon for nearly three hours with little sign of any further illness. This gives me a little peace of mind knowing I won't be getting sick myself, at least not from any virus.
1:20 p.m. - I arrive at the course after watching Tom Watson most of the morning still leading a field of youngsters at the British Open - it gives me inspiration. The wind is howling, the rain is blowing sideways, it's cold, and yet some old guy is up on the leaderboard. Oh, and the British Open was pretty cool too!
What, you thought I was talking about Turnberry and Tom Watson? No, I meant Leslie Park and me, a 44-year-old hack trying to fight my way through a bunch of 20-somethings in weather much like Scotland. (I think this global warming thing is beginning to lose its luster).
By day's end I would card a 73, good enough to put me in a tie for third, four shots off the lead. But this wasn't your run of the mill 73, this one had a few adventures along the way. Nothing like the disappearing ball mark trick from day one, but interesting nonetheless.
For example, how many rounds of 73 include a snowman? Mine did. After making a birdie on the first hole and parring the next two, I was bound and determined to make amends of the mess I'd made on the par-5 fourth hole the day before (a bogey that included a tee shot into a tree, a punch shot into heather, a topped hybrid that traveled all of 20-feet back into the heather, a fat 6-iron and then a 7-iron to a foot for a tap-in bogey).
This time I clocked a drive up the right side of the fairway leaving me 230 yards to the green. From there I clocked a 3-wood about 15-yards short of the green in the left rough. With the pin tucked left behind a greenside bunker, I did the only thing anyone would do, I chunked a sand wedge into the bunker. So as not to repeat that horrid mistake, I promptly bladed my next shot out of the bunker and into a stand of pine trees well behind the green. One failed punch shot later and I was at the base of one of the pines where I would chunk yet another chip just short of the green. At this point steam was rolling off my collar, but I collected myself, chipped down a steep slope to about 4 feet and sank the putt for an 8.
As 8's go, this one was a beauty seeing how I'd done all my damage, a mere spitting distance from the green. Funny thing was, I was happy I hadn't made a 9. If there's one thing worse than a snowman, it's a one-legged snowman. Plus I'd made a pretty tricky, downhill left to righter to save that 8, so I actually felt pretty good about getting up and down for my triple.
After that, things kind of fell into place. A decent shot here, a good save there, a couple more birdies and only one more bogey. Voila! 73.
Tomorrow will be the tell-tale day. After two long days of walking, will I have enough stamina to stay in contention? Can I get my head out of my butt and just play golf? Will I be heaving my dinner in the toilet sometime in the middle of the night thanks to my son?
All these questions and more will be answered come tomorrow night.
Stay tuned...
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