First of all, thanks for the love, and second of all, it's great to live in a state where homes are affordable, automobile traffic is negligible, the beaches are close at hand, and 78 gets you in. I guess that's why they call it the amateur. Now, on to the fan mail.
"Did you buy?"
To assuage the ace karma gods and my lingering guilt from the Incident at Bald Peak, I bought drinks for my playing partners, my caddie, and a number of familiar faces at the bar. I still consider this tradition to be odious and vulgar, as several of my colleagues today inquired "how much did it cost?" rather than "how nicely did you mash the ball off the sweet spot?".
"How did he make the nine?"
This is a funny question, because when I called Sweeney I was like "You're not going to believe this one. I was on cruise control, and all of a sudden I made a nine, and then I stepped up to the next tee, crunched one, and the ball is just hanging in the air above the flagstick, and we couldn't see it land, and then DeSmith drove up to the green" and Sweeney's like "wait, how did you make a nine?"
Three iron to the middle of the fairway, semi-shanked the nine-iron behind the pond fronting the green, skulled one to the hillside behind the green, skulled one all the way back across the green to a point six inches into the hazard with a big old reed drasticly restricting my backswing, whiffed, advanced the ball three inches, advanced the ball two feet and finally out of the hazard, chipped up and took two putts. It's amazing how quickly the brain melts down and the strokes accumulate in these situations. It seems to happen every year.
"Where's the tourney proper?"
Martindale, in Auburn. Nine by Alex Chisolm (whose nine in Sanford is beautiful) in 1921, nine later by Phil Wogan. Never seen it. Known for quirk and fine conditions, an excellent combination in my book. Not too long and not too short. Can't get there from here.
Tune in to
www.mesga.org on July 7 and follow Mr. Moore in his first major !!