I have moved locations. I am now posting to The A Position website, which is home to some of North America’s top golf and travel writers.
My site within TAP is timoconnor.ca,
Check out my stuff as well as great writers such as Jim Frank, Jeff Wallach, John Strawn, David Gould, Brian McCallen, Chris Santella, Larry Olmsted, and more.
Frankly, I feel like it’s an honour to be invited to join such an esteemed group… although the Groucho Marx line about never joining a club that accepts people like me as members does comes to mind.
Thanks Tim
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Sean and I enjoy the moment after his team won their division in a Pittsburgh tournament. Sean scored four goals, the team came together and played their best hockey of the season.
I love hockey tournaments. Not to play in them, but to go to them as the van-driving hockey dad.
My favourite thing in the winter is take my boys to the arena: I coach the minor midget house league team that my 15-year-old son Corey plays on in Guelph, Ontario, and 13-year-old Sean plays on the city’s minor bantam A rep team. For a golfer, hockey is a wonderful way to manage winter.
Coaching is a gas, especially with older kids because at 15, they play because they want to, not because mom or dad thinks they should. But coaching is a topic for another blog.
On Sean’s game days, I look forward to the game all day. For the couple of hours that I’m at the rink, I am completely consumed by hockey: standing around drinking coffee and talking about hockey, watching hockey, and thinking about hockey. And again like golf, especially among the dads, there appears to be an unspoken rule that you do not talk about work, or anything of consequence for that matter. For a couple of hours, we have escaped into hockey.
With hockey tournaments, especially those that require a long trip and staying over in a hotel, everything is geared around the games, of course, but there’s even more of all the great stuff that I enjoy about being a hockey dad.
Our most recent tournament was the Three Rivers Cup Hockey Tournament in Pittsburgh on American Thanksgiving. Sean and I traveled with Andre Labranche and his son Cody. Andre and I shared the six-hour drive—an easy one with lots of great chat—while the boys were consumed for almost the entire journey watching movies and playing games on my laptop. Thank you HP.
Dads along for the ride
For anyone who travels a fair bit for work, eating in restaurants and staying in hotels is no big deal. But during a hockey tournament, the eating-out and hotel experience is a lot like vacation; and as dads, we’re just along for the ride and a good time.
For us, and most of the team, it was concentrated guy time. Apart from when Sean was at the rink, or roaring around the hotel with his buddies, we were together, although usually with other fathers and sons. As the parenting books attest, having one-on-one time with a kid—meaning without a sib—is really important. At 13, he’s also enjoying his independence. Now he can bugger off with his friends without me hovering around.
It was neat to experience each other in new settings, like sitting at a large table in a restaurant with four kids and four dads. I get new insights into him as I watch him interact with his teammates, and he may see me in a different light as I carry on with men who are not related to us.
When the boys are off the ice, I get a kick out of just watching them together. In a tournament, I sense the boys have a greater feeling they are part of a team, especially in their matching black Guelph Storm wind breakers, white shirts, black pants and ties, which signals to the world they are on a team. In a Subway restaurant, there was so much joy in being together that they were leaning into each other as they huddled around tables gorging on 12 inches of squishy white bread and meat.
Boisterous boy energy is a wonderful thing, and it flows freely in a hotel because the dads have allowed the usual domestic rules to lapse. The boys throw themselves into every activity, bursting in the room announcing plans about going swimming or that they are going to play Xbox in someone’s room. They travel in packs around the hotel, and teammates who don’t normally hang together—usually because they live far apart—often mix in new combinations.
One of my favourite memories from Pittsburgh was opening a hotel room door to find two boys on their knees engaged in a vigorous game of mini-sticks, two sitting at the end of their respective double beds with video game controllers, and four others draped over the beds doing a version of play-by-play on the game.
The full Mo’ or the Faux Mo’
Just like in the playoffs, for some tournaments there’s a team-bonding hair ritual. Sometimes it’s getting your hair dyed the team colour, or having your number carved into your hair. For this tournament, it was a Mohawk. Only three kids went with the full Mo’ with the sides of their skulls shaved, while a few went with the Faux Mo’—very short on the sides leading to a spiked peak moulded with gobs of gel.
After our first game in Pittsburgh—a convincing 6-0 win over local Alleghany—about six team members and their parents invaded a hair salon to the obvious chagrin of an older couple awaiting their turn. Daniel hopped into a chair and a young lady began cutting away his thick black hair with a trimmer; Daniel beamed and his buddies cheered as large chunks of hair fell to the floor.
Dana, mother of Skyler, watched the proceedings and declared that if the boys won the tournament, she’d show up with a Mohawk at their next game. Talk about incentive.*
There are parts of tournaments aren`t so great: all plans for frugality are quickly forgotten and money flows freely out of your hand like grains of sand. Just trying to navigate around a confusing and unfamiliar city like Pittsburgh in search of suburban arenas can be frustrating, even with GPS. One dad became so lost that a kind female police officer whom he asked directions just said “Follow me“ and she gave him a police escort. And, some of our hotel neighbours were not particularly fond of boys running down the hallways yelling their friend`s names.
There can be hours to kill between games at these suburban arenas, and there’s not much else to do other than go to a mall. But the mall hang-out isn`t so bad if you settle in with an interesting dad or two over a coffee. When else does a working person have about two hours to sit in a comfortable chair and talk about anything and everything? The conversation can go places you don`t get to in arena corridor chats.
Tournaments also bring the parents together. With the extra time that you`re together, you tend to mingle with folks you don`t normally hang with during regular season games, and our team is blessed with great parents, siblings and extended family.
Beer and hockey talk
Like the boys in Subway, the big boys also savoured their time together. On our second night, there were about 10 guys packed in one hotel room with about three coolers filled with ice and cans of beer. The conversation was loud, gregarious and mostly about hockey. It was fun just to watch and listen to the men enjoy each other`s company, free from any real concern. One of the dads kicked us out after an hour so he could go to bed. That was a good thing; I could have easily over-served myself and paid the price the next day.
The team played well throughout the tournament, due perhaps to their increased connection with their teammates and a bit of us-against-them rivalry against two American teams, winning one and tying one. They also put in a solid effort in a tie against Aurora, Ontario. Their record was good enough to propel them into the division final against Aurora.
The lads played their best game of the year in the final, passing confidently, moving the puck smartly out of their own zone, skating with energy and purpose, and playing hard for 200 feet. They won 3-0, threw their sticks and gloves in the air at the buzzer, and gathered gleefully for the wonderful ritual of the team photo with the trophy.
Even if they didn’t win, the tournament would have been great. But winning sure made for a sweet conclusion to another great escape.
*Good to her word, Dana showed up at the next game with her hair gelled into a Faux Mo’ and received an ovation. She said it took her five handfuls of shampoo to get all the goop out. Now that’s being part of a team!
- Winners in Pittsburgh: From left to right: (bottom): Andy Piluk, Jake Brock; (kneeling) Drew Adams, Sean O’Connor, Adam Clayton, Braydon McNabb, Cody Labranche, Keegan Cleghorn, Owen Pavan, Connor Cranstone; (standing) Trainer Mitch Adams, Assistant Coach Andy Goetz, Skyler Theaker, Josh Kelly, Mitchell McPhee, Mikael Ruffini, Cameron Goetz, Darryl Magee, Daniel Nakatsu, Head Coach Kirk McNabb.
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Welcome back from the break, and we’ll continue with our chat on communications. (This is based on a recent talk that I gave to first-year students in the Turfgrass Management program at the University of Guelph. Check out Part I.)
My key message is that great superintendents excel at creating great conditions, but they also need skills in business and communications.
The best superintendents that I’ve run across at semi-private or private clubs constantly engage with the members, and superintendents at public courses do the same with their regular customers. They’re on a first-name basis. They’ll drop by the first tee, range or the shop on busy days such as Men’s or Ladies’ Night, and for tournaments, dinners, and other social functions. They often play in events.
Thom Charters of Bayview G&C in Toronto, and Ken Wright at Devil’s Pulpit, both in Greater Toronto, are great communicators. They frequently chat with members, which gives them an opportunity to get feedback on the course—both good and not-so good—and explain projects and programs, and, most importantly, to develop relationships with the members.
The following are some fundamental principles of PR:
- Know your key messages—Think through and write down the three key messages you want to deliver about any topic that’s important to you so that you can deliver them instantly, authoritatively and compellingly
- Know your facts—You need to be an expert in your field, particularly if there’s any situation in which there’s some controversy, or potential for it. Do the research and reading, even make calls, so that you are well informed and can speak intelligently on topics important to you. Intellectual knowledge is highly respected, and there’s no excuse in today’s e-world for not being well informed.
- Stay on your agenda—If you find yourself in a thorny situation, or your instincts tell you that you’re on dangerous or uncertain ground, stick to a pre-determined agenda of information that you are prepared to deal with at that moment. If someone wants to direct the conversation to an area that you are uncertain about, or you’re not confident you have the right the information, or you’re not sure that disclosure is the best option at that moment, just say that you’ll have to check on the information and that you’ll promise to get back to that person. And then you make good on that promise.
- Avoid speculation—The only thing that anyone can control is the present moment. When people are looking for your reaction to scenarios, or asking for you to forecast what you think might happen, politely decline. Deal only with facts. Make the point that when the future unfolds you’ll deal with it. That is not to say you fail to prepare, just that you’re not willing to predict the future.
- Stay cool—When emotions run high, it’s critical that you keep your cool. That is, never rise (or lower) yourself to someone else’s level. If things are getting out of hand, you might invoke the 24-hour rule. You could say ‘Let’s talk about this tomorrow.’ That rule also works well when you get upsetting phone messages or emails. Waiting 24 hours before responding almost always allows you and another person to chill, and it usually defuses a heated situation.
- Communicate pro-actively—You can dictate the agenda of the chattering classes when you frequently feed them with accurate, timely and useful information. When there’s a void of information, that’s when gossip and miss-information fester. Along with frequently meeting and talking with your stakeholders, it’s very easy to send them informative e-mails, newsletters, Twitter ‘Tweets’, or to post to Facebook.
- Empathize—Golf courses are often accused of endangering the environment through the use of pesticides or fertilizers, or for taking excess amounts of water. The overwhelming number of superintendents act responsibly and economically, and they have the licenses, education, electronic equipment and science to back them up. But many people don’t care about the science. They are fearful that these things are harmful. You cannot convince them otherwise. State your case knowledgably but you must sincerely empathize with their feelings. That will enable you to connect with them and perhaps develop a relationship. And then, you can begin a constructive dialogue.
My PR instincts say it’s time to stop, so I will.
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Earlier this fall, I was referred to as a “PR guy” by blogger Robert Thompson in relation to the communications work that I do for Nike Golf Canada.
I’ve been called worse things.
Most people in my line of work hate the acronym PR, short for public relations. So to be called a PR guy or, worse, a flak, is not our favourite thing. (I laughed it off with friends. Honest. Scout’s honour.) The preference is ‘communications professional,’ but PR guy is way shorter, so go with it.
PR conjures up images of a corporate spin-master who manipulates information to deceive people, cover up messes, score points, build up an image, or restore one, and so on. In a cartoon about a PR guy, he’d be a slickster dressed in black with a sinister voice.
I could care less what someone calls me, as long as people in the golf industry know about me, read my stuff, and some of them engage my services.
I was recently called upon by Anne Douglas, a sessional lecturer at the University of Guelph, to share some what I’ve learned about PR in the golf business with her first-year students taking Turf Communication Skills in the Turfgrass Management program. Most of the students are aiming at careers as superintendents at golf courses.
I began by noting the aforementioned cynical but common perception of PR. Indeed, it can sometimes be that, but if that’s how you, your golf course or business interacts with the world, it’s ultimately self-defeating. You will eventually suffer from your own lack of integrity. You have to be accountable and truthful in this world. (Yes, it does sound like a dad speech.)
To me, the art of PR is just communicating in a straight forward manner on behalf of yourself, a client or an organization.
I am convinced that one of the most important elements of PR is GR. That is, developing and maintaining good relationships.
Good relationships are the key to prospering. Let’s be clear: I am not saying the golden road to success is ‘it’s not what you know, but who you know,’ or ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.’
My point is that if you have good relationships, you get closer to what you want—in all things. To me, the basis of all good relationships is trust and connection. And you create trust and connection through communication. If you can’t communicate openly with one person, 100 people or one million, you will not connect, and you won’t develop trust.
Great communicators connect. They do this by being open, by letting other’s inside, even just a little. They touch another person’s soul. This is why fans were immediately drawn to Arnold Palmer, and why they eventually came to love Jack Nicklaus when he started to let down his façade.
In the male-dominated world of golf, this will cause some to wretch, but to connect with people you have be somewhat vulnerable and share some of your feelings.
For God’s sake, I don’t mean you have to cry when snow mould leaves dead spots on your greens, or offer a hug to a member who three-putted your freshly aerated 18th green.
It means to interact with others with humility, honesty, directly, on an even plane, connect eyeball-to-eyeball, and be totally present for that person.
And a good communicator doesn’t drone on. In my next post, I’ll finish my PR lecture.
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Playing in Myrtle Beach — II
The Heritage Club and clubhouse
It was the wettest golf trip of my life, but one of the most fun.
We had planned on 54 holes and got in 41—due mostly to the tenaciousness of the guys on the trip (see Nov. 12 blog)—so we get our golf fix, rain be damned.
Unfortunately, our press trip—led by yours truly—to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina last week coincided with Hurricane Ida in Latin America. We saw nothing but cloudy skies from the time we landed early Monday afternoon to when boarded our early Friday morning Direct Air flight to Niagara Falls, NY.
I learned quickly that we had a keen group. Upon arriving at the swank Marina Inn at Grand Dunes, we all agreed to meet in the lobby in 15 minutes before heading to the range at Grand Dunes. I came down 10 minutes later. After sitting there for 10 minutes, I sent a text to Heath Carter, my contact with Myrtle Beach Golf Holiday that I was waiting for the guys. He sent back, “Everyone is at the range.”
The official start of the trip began with an incredible meal that night at the Sea Captain’s House, one my favourite seafood places on the Grand Strand since I first started visiting here 20 years ago. Right on the beach, it hits all the right notes.
Our first course was Glen Dornoch Waterway Golf Links in North Myrtle Beach on Tuesday morning. Most of Glen Dornoch winds through 80-100 foot pines, but the fairways are quite generous. As the name would suggest, there are links-style elements to the Clyde Johnston-designed course, including some massive dune-like bunkering. It also borders the beautiful intracoastal waterway which is highly traveled by massive yachts and cool powerboats.
Glen Dornoch builds to a climax with three testy finishing holes, including the par-three, 212-yard 17th which is mostly carry with marsh left and massive dunes and pot-style bunkers right. The 18th gives you a choice of three landing areas with varying degrees of difficulty.
The rain intensified about halfway through, but everyone soldiered on. Even with great rain suits, most of us had never been wetter on a golf course. On the way back to the Grand Marina, we stopped at Martin’s Golf and Tennis Superstore and nearly everyone bought rain gloves.
We had our first of a few incredible encounters with red meat at Greg Norman’s Australian Grille, an elegant steak house where even the arms chairs were terrific. Despite the great meal, we had a sense of foreboding that Ida might scupper golf on Wednesday.
Indeed, the wind and rain lashed the windows of the hotel all morning. We were scheduled to play True Blue, but the course was understandably closed. Nonetheless, we took the 30 minute drive to the south end of the Grand Strand and had lunch in True Blue’s lovely, cottage-style clubhouse. We held on to faint hope we could return to True Blue on Thursday afternoon for nine.
After a look at True Blue’s sister club Caledonia Golf and Fishing Club and its sweet 18th hole, we ventured into a ritzy neighbourhood with million-dollar homes. We made our way the venerable plantation-style white clubhouse of The Heritage Club. The gentleman behind the counter commiserated with us about the rain, noting the course was empty except for “four nut bars.”
Scott MacLeod of Flagstick cocked his eyebrow at me and looked at me, signalling—sorry Scott—”I’m a nut bar.” A quick check-in with the guys confirmed that all eight were willing, and we made arrangements to play the back nine.
With our rain gloves, umbrellas and rain suits, we headed on foot out as the rain pounded down. David Cowx of Tee to Green said, “I’ve been caught in rain this hard, but I’ve never teed off in it.”
The course was the wettest I’ve ever played, with little rivers coursing across the fairways, forcing us to jump over them, and we sloshed through some low-lying areas filled with inches of water.
Amazingly, none of the bunkers had puddles and only one green had any accumulation. David and I were amazed at how our feet stayed dry with today’s golf shoes, and we recalled how there used to be shoes that were specifically “waterproof.”
Designed by Dan Maples , the Heritage Club is big and beautiful with classic parkland features, notably majestic oak trees, some draped with Spanish moss, and enormous greens with sweeping slopes. The consensus in our group was, “I could play here every day.” Golf Digest ranked it No. 46 on its latest lranking of America’s 100 Greatest Public Golf Courses.
The rain didn’t ruin the day. It made it. Playing in the gloom and rain gave the course a mysterious atmosphere that made the nine holes an adventure. (Cowx and I also won our match, as we each knocked in putts of about 80 and 60 feet respectively.) In the bar afterwards, everyone was buoyant—no pun intended—and we agreed that the elements can sometimes elevate a routine game into a treasure.
We had another amazing encounter with red meat—actually 13 different kinds at Rioz Brazilian Steakhouse. At Rioz, waiters bring various cuts of steak, pork and lamb on giant skewers right to your table, and then cut off pieces that you select with massive knives. It was novel, fun and tasty. Randy McDonald ventured: “I’d love to see the damage that a football team would do in here.”
On Thursday morning, we pulled up at The Legends 54-hole complex off Highway 501 to see course employees with parkas and hoods trying to fend off the cold, wind and light rain. It was about 5C when we teed off, everyone wearing layer upon layer, even toques.
The Moorland Course designed by P.B. Dye is broad with links features such as wood planks in bunkers, double fairways and elevated greens, some of which were massive. The 15th green is 60 yards long, rising about eight feet up to a tier. Our group hit about 20 putts from the front and only one of us got it within six feet.
Afterwards, we got boxed lunches to go and bolted back to True Blue for nine. Despite being closed the day before, the course was surprisingly playable. Designed by the late Mike Strantz, True Blue has a lot going on, but it all seems to work into a seamless hole. True Blue is No. 87 on Golf Digest’s list of top 100 U.S. public courses.
True Blue is not as funky as his famous Tobacco Road in North Carolina, but Strantz was an incredibly creative architect who managed to create exciting golf holes that are inviting, captivating and very playable.
He weaved multi-shaped waste bunkers sprinkled with love grass throughout the course that not only add eye candy, but also make it very easy to scoot around in carts, rather than being restricted—especially on wet days—to a single cart path. I also love how he runs bunkers into water.
We had a great match that included my opponent David Cowx holing out a 6-iron for a two on No. 6. The match required a playoff on 10 with Jean-Sébastien Légaré sinking a 20-foot birdie putt for the good guys, and then we played 16, 17 and 18.
The finishing holes at True Blue are also amazing, particularly the view from the 18th tee with a giant pond flanking the left side and the blue, wooden clubhouse behind the green. Due to a tall bunker wall bordering the pond, you cannot see much of the fairway that turns left, so it’s a semi-blind tee shot and a touch scary.
Our last dinner was at Frank’s Outback, just a down Highway 17. It was neat. We sat in a part of the restaurant made with canvas; it’s like you’re in a giant tent. To keep us warm, there are heaters like you find in hockey arenas hanging from the ceiling. The wonderful food ranges from seafood to steak, and a few guys stayed consistent. Asked what he does for a living, Jackson Hayes remarked, “I eat meat.”
We boarded our flight back to Niagara Falls dark and early on Friday morning as rain continued to sprinkle. Of course, within a few days, the usual weather in Myrtle Beach for November had returned—highs in the low 20s and sunshine.
Oh well, great golf trips always involve lots of stories, and this one had plenty.
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Playing in Myrtle Beach
This falls in the nice-work-if-you-can-get-it category.
I’m in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, leading a press trip for seven Canadian journalists on behalf of Myrtle Beach Golf Holiday, an association that represents golf courses, accommodations, golf schools, and more.
They are a great bunch of guys that includes Randy McDonald of Pro Shop, David Cowx of Tee to Green Magazine, Scott MacLeod of Flagstick, Jackson Hayes of Metroland, Chris Fry of SCOREGolf, Jean-Sébastien Légaré of Mongolf.ca, and Drew McAnulty of Sun Media. This is a very low-maintenance group of very keen golfers, so they’re easy to shepherd around. They show up every morning keen to go with no tales of debauchery.
Chris Fry and Scott MacLeod have been blogging about the trip, which has unfortunately been dogged by rain. But we’ve still played golf every day and our equipment dries out every night. Hey, golf is an outdoor game. It happens.
One of the objectives of the trip is to increase awareness how much Myrtle Beach has evolved as a golf destination in the past decade. One of the media wags remarked, “This isn’t your dad’s Myrtle Beach.” The area has more than 100 golf courses spread across the area known as the Grand Strand, but now there’s something for every wallet–from folks on a budget to those looking for the high-end in everything, including courses, restaurants, accommodations, as well as shopping.
Our trip started on Monday. We flew out of Niagara Falls International Airport in Niagara Falls, NY, on Direct Air. Flying to Myrtle Beach used to be a real drag. You had to hopscotch around, which is why a lot of golfers in Eastern Canada drove the 14 or 15 hours or so.
But with Direct Air, you can–wait for it–fly direct from places such as Plattsburgh, NY, which is close to Ottawa and Montreal, and Niagara Falls, NY, which is great for golfers in Southern Ontario. (Indeed, Porter Airlines is planning on flying to Myrtle Beach from Toronto’s island airport, which is great news for GTA golfers.)
But for folks on western edge of the GTA and southern Ontario, the Niagara Falls airport is a wonderful alternative than flying out of mammoth Pearson, or driving into the beast of Toronto and dealing with traffic, parking, et al.
After flying down the QEW, you get U.S. Customs out of the way at the border, and the airport is only about 10 minutes from the border. It’s a tiny airport–only Direct Air flies out of it for now–and parking is free, which is a first in my experience. Small airports are such a joy compared to metro airports.
That’s all I have time for this morning. We’re off to play The Moorland course at The Legends…
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A shaky start
When I’m really nervous, I don’t just feel shaky, I am shaky.
Rick Young’s recent blog on essential tremors reminded me of one of my first golf outings as a pseudo golf “celebrity.”
Around 1990, I was writing a lot of freelance articles about golf in magazines such as SCOREGolf and Golf Canada, and I was somehow picked to play with PGA Tour star Curtis Strange at new King Valley Golf Club near Aurora, Ont. The course was tagged as a Curtis Strange-Doug Carrick co-design.
When a new course opens, especially one with a marquee name designer, the proud new owners will usually hold a launch event of some kind and invite media, local dignataries and, if it’s a private club, current and prospective members.
For this event, the organizers set up a scramble between three-person amateur teams and Strange for three holes each. My teammates were Bob Weeks of SCOREGolf’s and Mike Anscombe, who was the main sports personality for Global TV in Toronto at the time. The rest of the groups were mainly members and prospects.
So that I could keep my nerves in check on the morning of the event, I tried to invoke a little psychological trick that Ben Hogan advocated. Hogan said that when he got nervous during a tournament, he tended to speed up–he would walk, think and swing faster. To counter that tendency, Hogan said that before a big round he tried to do everything slowly that day: he’d eat slowly, drive slowly, even brush his teeth a little slower.
On the day of the King Valley exhibition, I was following Hogan’s advice. Even as I watched Strange give a clinic on the range at King Valley before about 100 people, I was thinking ‘I feel pretty good. This will be ok.’
I figured that most of those people would just go home after the clinic. Obviously, I didn’t know much about PR at the time. Most if not all of those 100 people came over and formed a horseshoe around the first tee. I had never teed off in front of a crowd like this before.Yipes!
Some big-voiced announcer rhymed off the accomplishments of Curtis Strange, including his back-to-back wins in the 1988-89 U.S. Opens. Strange striped a drive down the middle, of course, and received a nice ovation.
When my name was called, I stuck to my go-slow strategy, easing myself toward the tee markers. Everything seemed to be in working order as I put the tee in the ground. But when I went to put the ball on the tee, my hand was shaking like I had the DTs. I thought, ‘Oh s**t, my tremor!’
I have familial tremor, which is similar to essential tremor. It’s very mild but causes my right hand to shake when I am over-caffeinated, vigorously exercise or … when I’m really nervous.
My mind raced in front of the throng. ‘I hope I can put this freakin ball on the tee on my first try!’ Stooped over the tee with the ball in my fingers, my hand wavering as I lower the ball toward the tee, I think I let the ball go from my quaking fingers with a nearly audible “Please stay!”
Luckily, it did. I think I let out an enormous breath that made me sound like a whale. Compared to teeing the ball up, hitting the damn thing was now no big deal, and I hit a pretty good drive. Bob Weeks sidled up to me in the fairway with a big smile on his face, and said “I thought we were going to need a caddy to tee your ball up.”
After that shaky start, I actually played the pretty well on those three holes.
This is my start in the world of blogging. I can only hope it goes as well as my three holes with Curtis Strange.
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