Nevada State Championships recap

I recently wrote about the Mountain Mayhem, which was a very bizarre tournament. Here were the summaries of the three rounds:

Round 1: My putter was stone cold and I couldn’t throw an up-shot to save my life (all three bogeys were caused by mis-executed up shots followed by missed putts). I wasn’t pissed off, but I definitely was disappointed. It was “mediocre” as I put it later that night. After one round, I was right in the middle of the pack (they were paying 6 out of 15 and I was in 7th).

Round 2: This round seemed more disappointing, though really, it was equally mediocre (both rated in the mid 950s, or roughly one stroke worse than my ‘average’ round). So yeah, Mediocre City.

Round 3: When all is said and done, I ended up shooting a 50, eight under par. It felt great, and sure enough, it was the hot round of the day (there were a couple of 51s). That round is unofficially rated a 1019, my second-highest ever. I propelled me from 9th to 5th, and in the cash.

You may wonder why I’m summarizing a tournament from two months ago, especially when the one I played yesterday was on a different course and under totally different circumstances. Well, because the results were almost exactly identical. Frighteningly so. Let’s break it down.

NEVADA STATE CHAMPIONSHIPS

Zephyr Cove is a course I like – it’s a top half course no doubt. My historical ratings are all over the map, everything from a 1004 rated round to a 910 rated round. My back was doing okay, though I’ve been dealing with a head cold for 3 weeks and I slept poorly because of the pups. And off we go to—

Round 1: I popped a 5-hour energy drink and tried to start off strong. And I did, kinda. I was -3 with 4 holes left to go, which would have been pretty good. My putter was failing me, though, and I ended up missing 6 putts from between 20-50’. Then I hit the tricky holes 12 and 13 and bogeyed them both. That put me at a mediocre -1 for the round. (My first round at Kirkwood is unofficially rated 955. The first round at Zephyr is temporarily rated 956).

Round 2: Same course, slightly harder layout (about 1/2 a stroke harder). I was feeling quite tired so I popped another 5 hour energy drink and headed out. I started on the tough holes 2-6 and bogeyed two holes in a row again (holes 3 and 4 this time). Both drives were not horrible shots but got back kicks. Then I proceeded to stay the course, shooting 3 birdies, and having a nearly identical round. Much like the Mayhem, I had two identical rounds that featured the exact same score. (The ratings were again nearly identical: Mayhem 2nd round 957, here 962).

After two rounds at the Mayhem, I was in 9th out of 15 people, 4 strokes off the cash line and 10 off the leader. At the NV Championships, I was in 9th out of 15 people, 4 off the cash line and 8 off the leader. Spooky, isn’t it?

I started again on the tough stretch of holes, 2-6. I had a 40’ severely uphill birdie putt on 2 (easily the best drive I’ve ever thrown on that hole). Putt was on line but missed short. Parred hole 3 easily. Had a 50’ birdie putt on hole 4 (easily the best drive I’ve ever thrown there). Putt online but missed short. Parred 5 and 6 with no real problem. Then I hit birdie row. I mean, literally, I hit ‘em all. I birdied 7 (20’ putt), 8 (drop-in), 9 (20’ putt), 10 (25’ putt), and 11 (drop-in). Then I came to the difficult holes 12 and 13. On twelve I took a par and on 13 I found the first trouble of the round, hitting early wood and bouncing backwards. I spent five minutes lining up different shots (probably to my group’s dismay) and opted for a tight high hyzer line through a million trees for about 150’ to the pin. I missed my line by just a bit, wrapped around the tree I meant to cut in front of, and ended up UNDER the basket. Sick up for the  par. I parred the difficult hole 14, birdied the touchy hole 15 (35’ putt) and then got 16 too (park job). My final three holes all left me with long jump putts (~50’, ~60’, ~45’ respectively), all three of which I ran but just came up short on each.

Where did that put me? Well, like at the Mayhem, it left me with the hot round. At the Mayhem it was a bogey-free -8. Here it was a bogey-free -7. There, the hot round by one stroke, here, the hot round by two. Then it was a 1019-rated round (my second best of all time), at Zephyr it was a 1021-rated round (my new second-best ever). Then I jumped from 9th to 5th and in the cash. Here, from 9th to 4th. I would have come from behind and won Masters at the Mayhem by 1 stroke. I would have won Masters at Zephyr by 3.

Essentially it was the same story. It felt good to crush it both times and take home a couple of shekels. Let’s hope for starting out of the gate a little stronger at my last tournament in 3 weeks.

Why I’m Rooting for the Cleveland Indians to Win It All (Then Immediately Change Their Identity)

I suppose I should start this by saying this will be a “political” post. It has nothing to do with politics, but basically anything nowadays that deals with serious matters (such as racism or feminism) is labelled as political because that’s the climate we now live in. Being a decent human has become a polarizing topic. Anyway, I digress. On to baseball.

I can’t quite say I’m a lifelong Indians fan. I was raised in the suburbs of NYC as a Mets fan and a Yankee hater (the latter being how all true baseball fans should be).

Image result for yankee hater

It would be in my later elementary school years that I started rooting for the Tribe as well. It coincided with the movie Major League, but not because of it. After all, it was rated R, and my mother made sure I would never see anything that had a possible exposed boob in it. I wouldn’t even see the un-edited version of that movie until probably the last decade.

Anyway, I latched onto the Indians for the same reason as the fans of Major League did – the team was terrible. I mean, staggeringly so. I was still predominantly a Mets fan, but I was a close second Indians fan because I guess in the 1990 I was glutton for punishment. That only grew and grew as they crept out of their misery and started playing like a true ball club. By their run in ’97, I was a full fledged Indians fan.

I watched the 1997 ALDS in my college dorm room surrounded by Yankers fans, and when the last out was made, I cheered as loud as I could then ran as hard as I could so I didn’t have to face any repercussions. I was full-blown fan.

By their surprising and somewhat miraculous run in 2007, I was more than an Indians fan first and a secondary Mets fan. I was a Tribe enthusiast. I was sick a few days after they blew a 3 game lead against the Red Sox (and even predicted at the time if they didn’t win game 5, they were going to lose the series). I was a true fan.

I remember my wife asking me a few years later how I could like a team that exploited an entire people for financial gain. How I could like THE INDIANS.

Image result for indians logo

My stance was I didn’t necessarily like the culture, the history, and certainly not the racism. I answered I liked the players. She asked this of me when Asdrubal Cabrera was a fresh-faced rookie that spurred on all sorts of romanticized dreams about a glorious future of multiple World Series rings. And that sentiment is still true today.

You got the infection smile of Lindor – Image result for francisco lindor smile

the charm and grit of Kipnis Image result for jason kipnis silly

the stoic badassery of Klubot – Image result for corey kluber

the future-is-bright-ness of Zimmer –  Image result for bradley zimmer

the Pucket-ness of Jose Ramirez – Image result for jose ramirez helmet

 

the outsider power of Encarnacion – Image result for encarnacion with parrot

My son’s favorites of Chiz and Santana, the REAL bullpen mafia (even Shaw… sometimes). Yeah, these are the players I am pulling for to end the longest drought in the Major Leagues – a 69 year span without a World Championship.

But I can longer ignore that the entire identity of the team is founded on ridiculous notion that Native Americans are in any way “Indians”. Chief Wahoo is a disgrace and needs to go, but he’s only the tip of the iceberg.

I was fortunate enough to go to Game 1 of the World Series last year. And you know what I saw? A whole lot of white people. I mean, I thought I was at a Trump fundraiser it was so white. And sure, it can’t all be attributed to the Indians fan base; the Cubs had a strong presence too. And it could easily be more indicative of the socioeconomic culture rather than a true cross-section of Cleveland baseball fandom. But it was damn near pure white. The owners of the Indians are white. The past ones were white. Most of the upper-brass of the Indians are white.

THESE PEOPLE ARE NOT THE PEOPLE WHO SHOULD GET TO DECIDE WHICH BLATANTLY ETHNIC IDENTITY IS “OKAY” TO USE.

I get it, the Indians as a franchise has been around since the late 19th century, predating many many franchises. Back then, it was not considered racist to name a team the Indians (at least by white men, who were the only voices heard then, as opposed to now, when they’re only the vast majority of voices heard). Somehow it wasn’t racist even when “The Indians” were named that after a Native American player who played for the Spiders in 1899. After all, there’s “history” there. Or at least so say ‘the fans’.

When I went to purchase some schwag for my kids at the World Series, I asked if they had anything without Chief Wahoo or the word Indians on the gear. The guy looked at me and said, “C’mon, it’s history, man!” And I said, “It’s a pretty horrible history, don’t you think?” He did not. Then again, he was paid to sell merchandise with a bright-red-faced Native American sporting feathers that somehow represented a blue-collar American city’s baseball franchise.

Chief Wahoo is bad enough, and this article does a pretty good job of breaking it down, so I won’t rehash that. But seriously, look at him.

Image result for chief wahoo

It’s 2017.

Speaking of which, the Indians are the toast of the town in 2017, having just won an AL-record 21 games in a row. The name “Indians” has probably been said more this year than even last year, when they took it to extra innings in game seven of the World Series in one of the greatest games of all time. I can’t help but think that time the name “Indians” is mentioned is somehow NOT causing a systemic cringing reaction, and that’s a problem.

Which is why I want them to win it all this year. Well, I want that because I’m a fan. But here’s my dream scenario. They win it all this year as the Cleveland Indians, as a team that bases its profit on the backs of Native American exploitation. Because they’re not going to change it now, with 20 games left in the season. So let them win it. For “the old timers”. For “history”. For “fans across the world” (although in reality it’s predominantly white people from Ohio).

Then before the 2018 season, they can work out a deal with Major League Baseball (there have already been discussions between the owners and MLB) and to have them totally re-branded as the Cleveland Spiders, a name they used up until 1899.

Fun fact: the Cleveland Spiders hold a record that will never be broken – most road losses (101!).

Hell change it to the franchise name as it was just before it was changed to the Indians, the Naps (after Hall of Famer Nap Lajoie). I am all for a team that promotes healthy daytime sleeping. Don’t want to name it after a player from a century ago? Change the name to the Cleveland Pronks. Still want more recent? The Cleveland Loopstoks. (He’ll make it to the majors one day, I just know it.)

If management is going to be so obstinate as to stay the course (after all, it would be a huge financial hit because blowhard WHITE fans would likely boycott a change away from the Indians moniker), then at least follow the lead of the Chicago Blackhawks. Their mascot isn’t racist, it’s a hawk. They intentionally work WITH native tribes in terms of philanthropic outreach and even branding. They don’t seek to profit off the backs of a misnamed people, they try to grow with them. It’s an imperfect model, and ideally I’d like to see it get away from all of that, but it’s certainly better than where we’re at today.

Let’s move more to this:

Image result for cleveland block c

It celebrates a town that has not had much to celebrate before Lebron came back. It celebrates a team that has been built the proper way and is firing on all cylinders. It celebrates a team of diversity (their 40 man roster represents 7 countries, and while they’re all the US or Latin American countries, it’s a start). It does not predominantly feature white people making beaucoup bucks off a racist misnomer. Wait until after the year is done, especially (but not necessarily only if) they win the World Series. They can pump all their extra revenue into a re-branding campaign.

Go Tribe in 2017! And go Spiders in 2018!

King of the Lake (post-script)

It’s been several weeks, and you might have assumed (correctly) that I sucked for King of the Lake, so I didn’t bother posting about the rest of it. And that is largely correct.

But I did want to talk quickly about two things. 1) My incredibly bizarre round at Tahoe Vista. 2) Weird trends with King of the Lake.

Let’s begin.

Image result for #1My weird round.

I’ve described Vista as my do-or-die course, in that I either crush it or get crushed. It’s kinda rare that I just shoot an okay round there. During 2017’s King incarnation, I managed to do both.

After day 1 I was floundering in the bottom half, probably a handful of strokes off the cash line (Zephyr really killed me).

Hole 6: So I start on hole 6, the EASIEST HOLE on the course, and I probably average a three on (a very rare birdie, a very rare bogey). I’d say pros average 2.2 on that hole. Whatever. I FINALLY throw a good drive right up the gut, fly over the basket, but skip up the hill a bit. No problem, maybe a 20′ putt. Except I’m behind three branches. I have to release my putt near the ground (under the first branch), go OVER the second branch, and come down before the guardian branch. And it’s all down a 30 degree slope. Probably the most convoluted 20′ putt I’ve ever had. And I just missed low. Par.

Hole 7: An easy par four. I throw a pretty bad drive but follow it up with a good up. But NO! I somehow skipped 40′ past (on a course that really doesn’t allow for skips). No matter, I bang the putt. Birdie.

Hole 8: A gimme hole that I rarely seem to get. I got it handily. Two birdies in a row.

Hole 9: A really really tough hole that I four as often as I three. I played a “safe” hyzer shot that was supposed to bail out and hopefully give me a 50′ level putt and also take the OB out of the question. I’m a little short of where I wanted, leaving me about 50 uphill with my foot in a bush. BANG! YES! Extra birdie, and for a turkey!

Hole 10: I didn’t have the right disc in my bag to try to deuce this difficult par 3, so I just played a “safe” flick shot, threw a 70′ up shot, and tapped in a par.

Hole 11: A pretty difficult 370′ hole but, for whatever reason, one I play really well. Threw the perfect drive and found myself 2′ from the pin, just long. ACE RUN! Still a birdie.

Hole 12: So at this point, I’m -4 through 6, which is pretty darn good. I step up to hole 12, the second easiest hole on the course. This is a gimme, and what’s more, it’s my bread-and-butter hole. Except I throw my drive into the one pine right in front of me. No matter, the disc slides down and I have a clear up shot. Which I saw off and leave myself no look for par. Okay, settle down. A little touch forehand upshot will give me a slim chance for par but an easy bogey. But I gack it and it hits the guardian trees and slides 20′ down the hill. Whatever, bogey. BUT – I hit the cage and it rolls back 35′. And I miss that. A six. A TRIPLE BOGEY ON THE SECOND EASIEST HOLE ON THE COURSE. WHEN I WAS HAVING A KILLER ROUND! How… what… how does that even happen?

Hole 13: I par. I was really shaken by that six. How do you go from killing a course to blowing up in one hole?

Hole 14: A really tough 3. I throw a pretty good drive but hit the guardian 200′ down the fairway, leaving me a tough high hyzer window to hit. Which I don’t. At all. Still thinking of that 6. I proceed to kick deep into the woods, leaving me nothing but a total 1 in a million desperation forehand roller. And I HIT MY LINE! Only hit the last possible object before curling around toward the pin. Upshot, putt. Double bogey. WHAT JUST HAPPENED? I go from -4 to +1 in three holes? Holy bejeezus.

Hole 15: A pretty easy birdie hole, but I par it. My drive was okay but I didn’t convert the 45′ putt on an elevated basket.

Hole 16: Another must-get. I actually hit the post. Drop-in birdie.

Hole 17: Scenic downhill tunnel shot unless you thumb the hole. I do, which usually gives me anywhere from a long look to a gimme. I leave it early and have a 70′ blind hyzer putt. And damn near make it, but no, settle for a par.

Hole 18: I grip my drive just a touch and it leaves it wide. Should be okay but no, it actually doesn’t quite stay in the dogleg left fairway. In fact, I’m neck-high in a bush. I only have a pitch out, which I throw too far into the other fringe. I pump a terrific third shot, giving me a 60′ save for par over a tree, which I just barely miss low, giving me a straight up bogey.

Hole 1: Now I’m plus 1. WTF happened? This is a pretty easy hole but one I rarely get. I park it for the bird. Okay, at least I’m back to par.

Hole 2: I throw a decent shot and end up at circle’s edge with an uphill putt. Chain out right, settle for par. Grrr.

Hole 3: MY NEMESIS. I swear, I average 4.8 on this par 3. I throw a decent drive, giving me a pretty easy up and down. Only I saw off my up, leaving me a 30′ downhill putt. Actually make the par. Screw you, hole 3.

Hole 4: A really tough par 3, and I throw the drive of my life and put it about 15′ away. Another rare birdie.

Hole 5: A deceptively tricky par 4, and one I’ve had trouble with in the past. I throw a mediocre drive (flipped up in the wind more than I expected) but threw a great second shot, leaving me a 25′ cleanup putt for birdie, which I make.

I finished the round shaking my head. I had eight birdies, probably the most I’d had on this course in one tournament round (I crushed three great rounds there in 2013, but even then I’m not sure I had 8 birdies in any of those rounds). But I had a bogey, a double bogey, and a triple bogey. I probably average even on those three holes, maybe even below. But let’s say I were to have shot a disappointing +1 on them, my round goes from a mediocre rating (unofficially 963) to one of the best of my life (1012).

Needless to say, between that disappointment and my body which was not doing so hot after three rounds of golf, I tanked my final round at Sierra College. I’ve still yet to play an actual good round of golf there. Sucks because I enjoy the course, I just stink at it.

Image result for #2Even/Odd splits

As I detailed here last year, I tend to suck at King of the Lake during odd-numbered years. And that did not change in 2017. My best odd-year finish was way back in 2009, when I came in T13th out of 29 (45% percentile).

2011: T45th out of 59 (76th percentile)

2013: They didn’t have it, which I suppose is fortunate.

2015: 25th out of 36 (69th percentile)

2017: T31 out of 46 (67th percentile) – bear in mind 5 players didn’t even finish the tournament, so I might have done even worse if they had. Worse yet, I can often fall back on “well, I did crappy in open but would have taken 5th in Masters) – nope, wouldn’t have cashed there either.

Contrast that with even years, where I cashed 3 out of the 4 years (two of which were A-tier events) and the fourth year I got injured in my final round.

Next year, I’m playing in an even year, playing Masters, and hopefully get back to my odd (even) ways.

King of the Lake (Day 1)

This seems to be a tournament I recap pretty regularly, so let’s get to it, shall we? I slept very poorly last night, which sounds like the norm, but really I’ve been sleeping well for most tournaments. HOWEVER, I’ve slept like crap all week, so that seemed to continue.

Also, I’m going to give a warning – I’m gonna be talking about diarrhea. Not metaphorically. Skip it if you want.

Round 1 – Bijou

We started round one at Bijou, a course I have seemed to play very well lately. It was set pretty short. And my stomach was just unsettled. Not sure why. It could have been a) I’m battling something, b) I didn’t sleep much, c) I ate crap for dinner – CostCo chimichangas, or d) I had two glasses of wine. Whatever the reason, I had two trips to the bathroom before the round began. And another halfway through the round. And then played the last 9 holes (of a 27 hole layout) trying desperately not to crap my pants. Literally.

What did that mean for the round? Oddly, I played pretty well. My drives were solid, although my putter took quite a while to get going (I missed three putts in the circle in my first 9 holes). It took me about that long to get my first birdie, but I ended up throwing a bogey-free 10 down. While that sounds awesome, and it was identical to my first round during the South Lake event last month, it was barely above my rating. Don’t know what today’s round is, it’s not updated. But the leader shot -18, so my -10 will probably be around my rating. Sigh.

After the round I was on 4th card out of 9 (just in the cash if it were only a one-round tournament). A couple more trips to the bathroom and barely any lunch and I drove to Zephyr Cove, a course I am inconsistent with – everything from a 1004 rated round to a 901.

Because of my wonky stomach, I decided not to have a 2nd 5-hr energy drink. I was really tired, but didn’t want to upset anything further. When the round started, I actually felt decent.

Round 2 – Zephyr Cove

I started parring the very difficult hole 4, but bogeyed 5 (drive slipped out and I air-balled a 20′ putt after a great upshot). Birdied hole 6 which I’ve never reached before (I threw the perfect drive and put me 33′ short, and I made the putt). Few pars (just off on my aim) and then a near-ace birdie. Followed by a bogey when I let my drive out early. (You’ll see a pattern… for a while).

Par followed by a near-ace on the really difficult hole 12 (I made the 40′ comebacker) to put me -1. As per usual, I followed it up with a bogey (drive slipped out early). In fact, hole 12 was my last good drive of the round.

I finished on holes 15-18, 1-3 (most are birdie-able) hoping to get one or two and find myself a stroke or two down for the round. But fatigue took over and I griplocked just about everything. Hole 15 griplock and REALLY bad break, giving me no real upshot; bogey. Hole 16, griplock, tough flick up that I didn’t execute and a literally impossible putt. Two bogeys. Followed by two pars (mainly because of a great up on 18). Then bogey on 1 (griplock drive, griplock upshot), par on 2 (hole is too far for me), and then bogey on three (griplock drive, griplock flick up, missed putt).

Man, nothing really worked. Aside from a couple of sick ace runs, the round just sucked. I don’t know where I am in terms of placement (I’m guessing around 28 out of 46 – and they’ll pay 18 or 19) or rating (I’m guessing 970, 930).

My body is craving decent food, so I stopped and bought some salads and am chowing down, washing down my muscle relaxer.

I need sleep and a body that behaves. I can still cash, but I gotta get my head out of my arse, and poop out of my arse too.

Mountain Mayhem recap

It’s been a while, so it’s time to do a brief run-down from this weekend’s tournament. You’ll see by the end why I’m picking this one to review Heh heh.

Round 1 – Kirkwood – I’d only played Kirkwood once, two weeks ago. I shot a par then (one birdie, one bogey, a crapton of pars). In fact, I feel the course is largely a par course. There are birdies to get, but only a few of them are really must-deuce holes. A few holes are tough threes, but certainly not par 3.5s. It’s a par course. So how did I do in round 1? Why, par of course! I shot three birdies and three bogeys. My putter was stone cold and I couldn’t throw an up-shot to save my life (all three bogeys were caused by mis-executed up shots followed by missed putts). I wasn’t pissed off, but I definitely was disappointed. It was “mediocre” as I put it later that night. After one round, I was right in the middle of the pack (they were paying 6 out of 15 and I was in 7th).

Round 2 – Kirkwood – My back started seizing up at lunch, so I downed a pain pill and a 5-hour energy and headed out to Round 2. It was basically a carbon copy of round 1, only more roller-coastery. I managed to snag five birdies on the 19-hole layout, but also took five bogeys. Of those bogeys, three were caused by mis-executed up-shots followed up by not converting my putts. I now have a fear of 100′ approach shots. If there’s a person there, I can put the disc right next to them every time. As soon as it’s a basket? I throw it 30′ short. Huh.

This round seemed more disappointing, though really, it was equally mediocre (both rated in the mid 950s, or roughly one stroke worse than my ‘average’ round). So yeah, Mediocre City.

After round 2, my back was in bad shape. I rode home, took a muscle relaxer, then had trouble sleeping. I managed probably about five hours, but not the full eight I was hoping for.

I show up and see I’m in 9th place, only two strokes from the cash line but also only two strokes from 13th out of 15. We played Turtle Rock, my favorite course out west and one I realized I tend to shoot pretty well at (I average two strokes over my rating a round there).

Round 3 – Turtle Rock – I started out with an anti-inflammatory, a pain pill, and a five-hour energy drink. In practice, I’m feeling pretty good. Let’s hope it translates. I start out with a drop-in deuce on hole 3, a par (on the tough hole 4), and then two tough-luck pars. Still, I’m in decent shape at this point. Then I start to dial it up. A 30′ birdie putt on hole 7 for deuce. Hole 8 is a 350′ anhyzer shot. Paavo in my group steps up and clanks off the cage for an incredible ace run. How am I supposed to follow that up? By throwing an identical shot and hitting the post, that’s how. Deuce on 8. Par on the difficult hole 9. Drop-in birdie on 10. At this point, I’m feeling really good.

Hole 11 is ~777′ and it is tightly wooded the whole way. I throw a killer drive and a decent up. My third shot I forehand straight into a tree in front of me (one of my few missed forehands this tournament). I throw a pretty good recovery Buzzz shot to put me around 30′. This is to keep my bogey-free round alive. And I hit it. Next hole is my nemesis, and true to form I miss my line and it puts me in a bad location. Bad upshot leaves me 50′ out. BAM, hit it. At this point, I say to myself “I’m invincible. Let’s attack the rest of this round”. Hole 13 is a toughie, I par. Drop in deuces on 14 and 15. Par on 16. 17 is an easy par 4, and I throw a great drive and a pretty good up, leaving me 23′ to clean up. I miss a little low. My first missed putt of the round from inside the circle. Hole 1 I give myself a 40′ look for birdie, just bounce out. Hole 2 I have another drop-in deuce.

When all is said and done, I ended up shooting a 50, eight under par. It felt great, and sure enough, it was the hot round of the day (there were a couple of 51s). That round is unofficially rated a 1019, my second-highest ever. I propelled me from 9th to 5th, and in the cash.

It was an uneven weekend, truthfully. My first round I couldn’t putt and my ups were lousy. Second round my ups were horrid and my putting was mediocre (my drives for the two rounds were above average, all things considered). Third round – everything clicked. I hit huge out-of-the-circle putts, had incredible drives, and my up game was solid (and thankfully not all that necessary).

My back feels better than I expected it to. It actually hurt more two weeks ago after playing at the flat Bijou course (though I did play 81 holes compared to 56 this weekend).

KING OF THE LAKE IS IN TWO WEEKS! Woo!

The ‘Dash Dictionary

Okay, I know this is already available on my website, but I recently re-read it and it had me laughing out loud a few times. Enjoy.

 

abbozzo: any pasta made entirely from abstract materials such as anecdotes or victory (Corey)

abigus: not quite French (Will)

able-whackets: to be so skilled at cricket that you can almost explain the rules to someone else (Jay Lawton)

acouchy: that feeling you get when you pet your cat so much that you bore through to its muscle layer (Bryan)

acronyx: a numbering system that used letters, but in 1728, the year spelled out “dickhead” so it was never used again (Derek)

agama: from the Latin word meaning “truth”, it’s a sandwich (Derek)

anatta: a South African American bald eagle found only in Iceland native to Australia (Mitch)

annicut: to cheat on your taxes by copying off the guy next to you (Derek)

antiambulo: fuzzy lap flounder (Bryan)

apodixis: a pack of Bruce Willis (Will)

bafalo: to follow your shadow as far as the forest, where he totally loses you (Derek)

baldachin: a yiddle itty bitty cute ‘n’ fuzzy widdle omnipotent being (Stephanie)

baleen: to purposely spell a wrong word in a spelling bee so that it spells a dirty word (e.g. “country … D-I-C-K … country”) (Corey)

banxring: to freeze your toes just in case you stub your toe. That way, the toe breaks clean off instead of that annoying 2 seconds of uncomfortableness (Mitch)

barbone: to throw one’s penis so the woman doesn’t know where that orgasm is coming from (Derek)
barmbrak : super-sleuth Don Knotts and his dancing troupe the Frayed Knotts (Scott)

barney: the unthinkable type of sock that has no place for the foot to enter (Caroline)

baroxyton: when bears ravage your car by siphoning your gas for their RV (Jay Lawton)

bathycolpian: the term given to people rather than borrowed or stolen (Kevin)

bechic : to attract attention to one’s stoma by installing a full-size ceiling fan in it (Bryan)

beek: what James VanDerBeek’s agent made him change the last syllable of his name to. His real name is James Vandercutlet (Bryan)

begigged: compared to peas (Will)

bezoar : the T.V. made with glare built in so there is no annoying glare from the lights (Caroline)

bildad: the reverse effect of an amoeba but with humans where all people fuse together into one (Chris)

billycock: the medieval phrase, “too much plague, not enough dancing” (Corey)

bingy: a tiny maneuverable vessel used in war and found in the birth canal (Kevin)

bobabza (1): a mine rich in ore, similar to Bonanza, a show rich in horses (Aaron)

bobabza (2): a pole commonly used to fake children into thinking they are being rescued from the well.  You wave the stick, kids gets optimistic, we all have a good laugh (Eric R)

bollard: an ancient Egyptian game where the man holding stick tries to squiggly lines (Derek)

bonamano: the annoying canyon between me and the other canyon (Bryan)

boodin: the insistence on using chopsticks to play Chopsticks, arguing that ‘that’s how he would have wanted it.’ Hey, it’s not as bad as when you insisted on eating kung-pow chicken in the piano (Bryan)

boondoggle: an assassin that kills his victims so slowly that his methods are often confused with natural causes (Will)

breastweed: a lizard’s tail, used to cure inflammation of the breast: “Hi, have we met? I’m a lizard” (Paul)

buccula: the non-working title of Scott Bakula’s best selling book on how to kill deer. It is now called, “Quantum Heap…of Deer” (Bryan)

bufagin: parallel lines in love…so tragic (Corey)

bummalo (1): the spot on your skin where your body tries to escape (Caroline)

bummalo (2): someone who has made it their life-long goal to be the universal “THAT guy” (Alisha)

capernoited: slightly tipsy, not drunk, but tipsy enough to get your head stuck in a Trapper Keeper (Stacey)

carwitchet: the French word for “croissant” (Corey)

cenobite : to knock over a volcano (Derek)

clarigate: that one spelunker who insists on having a strobe light on his helmet because, “Hey, life’s a party” (Corey)

cleek: Milton Bradley’s classic board game “Cleek” where the objective is to hurt people with the pieces. Roll for bruises! (Jay Lawton)

coire: one who courts a young lady by licking her shoulder to the rhythm of any Beastie Boys tune (Jaime)

conspectable: an adjective that comes before a noun, only to leave a slick trail of oil behind it, so that the noun slips and hurtles headlong into the already nervous preposition, ruining the whole predicate dance (Bryan)

crannog: being 10 paces or less from a colander (Will)

craquelure: a store in which to buy new bags of rusty nails for the playpen (Aaron)

crottels: funeral game where the family of the deceased has three chances to place the body in the grave using a cannon (Corey)

dandypratt: the flamboyant wrestler that, for some reason, everybody wants to wrestle (Ron)

deambulacrum: the ability to suck God through a straw (Mitch)

degrugger (1): is when sunlight becomes semi-hard and everyone ends up spending the day getting hit in the head and staggering around (Cyrus)

degrugger (2): a large bi-pedal arachnid completely laughing in the face of Mother Nature (Aaron)

deipnophobia: the fear of nocturnal emissions becoming as strong as solar emissions (Derek)

dithyramb: rock hard nips used to dial old rotary phones (Scott)

doddard: an elusive word that hides in small puddles though “regal”, who is It right now, is searching through the dictionary (Kevin)

drapetomania: the scientific term for “the scientific term for” (Mitch)

dronkship: to attend a funeral dressed only in cub scouts (Derek)

drupe (1): a person whose stomach does not work, but luckily has epilepsy and can use a strobe light to digest (Corey)

drupe (2): that sinking feeling you get when your boat goes down (Aaron)

dudolo : someone so bad at digging that they cause injury to others (Will)

duffing: while passing a car with a ski rack, testing the water resistance of your watch (Aaron)

dupion: the feeling of dread you get just before the Dating Game comes on…and usually after…and during (Will)

elflock: the popular never released ending for (Kevin)

ennead: to legally change your name to the entire contents of the Bible just so you can give people Bibles instead of having to sign autographs (Derek)

eroteme: the European A-Team with Prime Minister Strom Thurmon as B.A. Baracus. “I pity the foo who don’t eat tea and crumpets!!” (Jay Lawton)

euneirophrenia: to sit quietly with reckless abandon (Cyrus)

facula: to throw your arms into the air in celebration then run before they fall on you (Aaron)

faulx (1): a cross between a single use copier and an earthquake fault line (Cyrus)

faulx (2): the confused look you give when you discover you can put your hand into your stomach so far it pops out your back without drawing blood (Mitch)

feaze: the small metal object placed in 5% of all children at birth so they set off airport metal detectors for apparently no reason (Scott)

fenugreek: salad greens grown to taunt the starving kids (Jason Wahler)

fewterer: the misguided pistol prototype that had no barrel (Matt S)

fewterer: really fewter (Lynly)

fitzhugh: the lowest octane gasoline at the Lukoil station.  So low that it can only be used for Hot Wheels (Aaron)

fleam: the world’s largest steam-powered monk (Bryan and Mitch)

fleer: it’s one of those new slang words like “dope”, “phat”, and “fly”, but in reality, it means “rabies”. Example: “Yo man, I gots fleer” (Jay Lawton)

flews: the tears in the neck caused by eating shards of glass (Kevin)

flicer: a special breed of goldfish that likes to be skipped across lakes just like those flat pebbles (Eric B)

foiter : (said in a French accent) “when stupid Americans pronounce fotiay wrong” (Aaron)

footle: a Canadian sport that closely resembles the murder mystery episode of The Facts of Life (Will)

fossick: monetary unit used by the dinosaurs…economy collapsed due to lack of pockets (Scott)

foulcher: the best part of waking up is a foulcher in your bed.  The worst part is explaining this to the foulcher’s parents (Stephanie)

frantling: the capital of the eyebrow (Dan)

furbam: the noise an exploding bunny makes (Susan)

furbelows: the first level of Boy Scout, which you graduate from after nabbing your first Brownie (Aaron)

gallinipper: the most homeless person (Caroline)

ganosis: a small species of beaver that invades homes and pretends to be an ottoman. If you put your feet on it, you will find it to be quite comfy (Cyrus)

gavelock: when you crush a Quaker with your mind (Dierdre)

geropigia: a convicted outdoor-fountain thief (Derek)

glair: the 5th Golden Girl, who’s gimmick was being offensive and getting looks; removed from the show after the pilot episode for her famous comments, “Hitler was a brilliant man who never did anything wrong in his lifetime.” (Aaron)

goolos: the reject Cherrios cereal. “These Goolos taste just like Grandpa!” (Jason Waller)

gradine : the single exact difference between TV show character George Kastanza and the Easter Bunny (Kevin)

gremial: a collection of knife wounds.  Trade conventions are rather rare (Kevin)

gulgul : the time of day best suited for a crusade (Derek)

gunkhole: the elementary school teacher’s vocabulary word for children who bring in crap for show & tell (Erika)

hackmatach: the love-making technique of Gene Hackman (Rachel)

hectocotylus: the inevitable evolution of stethoscopes into barley (Mitch)

hector: a plant eating man native to Earth (Mitch)

hidrotic: a dance technique in a ninja strip club that involves turning off all the lights and leaving quietly (Cyrus)

hippogriff : the Hieroglyphic on a pyramid that means ‘pull in case of fire’ (Kevin)

hirple: the one thing science has proven that actually does amount to a hill of beans (Aaron)

hodiernal: the slide at the waterpark where one out of six people lose their soul (Mitch)

hoker: to ridicule someone to the point of eczema (Will)

homobrant: not-so-common garden tool used for nothing of importance (Aaron)

hypoprosexia: a testicular disorder found in women of the opposite sex (Dierdre)

janker : pirate talk for tea-time (Kevin)

jeofail: a mistake made by a lawyer – the mistake was that he’s actually not a lawyer at all, he’s a dentist (Mitch)

jequirity: the staunch belief that priests are sweaters (Bryan)

ka-ka (1): a piece of pound cake that travels over to the other side because it really wants to be a wedding cake (Rachel)

ka-ka (2): the sheepish grin you give the judge after he finds out that Exhibit B is a pile of bloody babies (Derek)

kalanchoe (1): the new elephant recruited by the Knicks under the philosophy that all good basketball players are from Africa (Corey)

kalanchoe (2): a chandelier made with little suns with tiny universes orbiting them (Mitch)

kantharos: the unpopular Greek guy who always got stuck taking pictures of everyone else (Derek)

keddah: a roller coaster where the people in the first car are responsible for keeping it on the track (Corey)

kennebunker: in World War I, a fort made out of the wounded soldiers named Earl who were supposed to be sent home (Aaron)

kerpucket: to ignore someone politely (note: the actual word for the round was ‘murginger’) (Kevin)

kickshaw: brand of fish that swims downstream, eats bugs, lays eggs-hell, it’s just a regular fish but it’s got a damn good marketing department (Stephanie)

kilhig: to blog in Russian even if you don’t know Russian (example: Ravolshnik ptolmelk en varshnik Christopher Lloyd!  Ha ha!  Vodka!) (Bryan)

killick: the very very slow sound made by a very very slow revolver as it is very very slowly cocked. k i l l i c … k (Stephanie)

kinnikinnik: an old Cherokee tribal game. The rules are simple: a bunch of Cherokee sit in a circle, and close their eyes. The first one to develop a sense of ownership wins. Everyone else gets their land taken away, their children sold and their pride destroyed (Bryan)

kipsey: an envelope filled with “the shakes” (Caroline)

kloof: cliff extensions (Kevin)

knurlin (1): a priest collar that slaps on like one of those early 90’s slap bracelets (Bryan)

knurlin (2): little tiny throat deer (Mitch)

kokopolo: a tropical disease so common that you’re not allowed into South America without it (Derek)

kolacky: to raise your hand in class, and when your teacher calls on you, making sure their attention is on your hand, slowly and methodically lower it (Bryan)

lanugo: the calculated unit of time between the beginning of a Bill Cosby impersonation and the point where the impersonator makes a Jello Pudding reference (Will)

latrobe: the last effort of an ailing country to stay underwater for just a few more seconds (Bryan)

liebig (1): nationality-changing paintballs. “Haha, you’re Croatian!” (Mitch)

liebig (2): the “Devil Went Down to Georgia” action figure set (Corey)

logie: the first word to mean ‘logic’, but it didn’t make sense, so they changed it (Mark)

loppet: to stumble, while walking or running, into a vat of ill-tempered wolverines with ADD, so they forget to hurt you and you can just swim through (Bryan)

lusk : a Mormon fish tickler (Derek)

macadoub: a prosthetic soul (Mitch)

madefy: to replace your head with a mirror just so you are infinite when you look into a mirror (Derek)

maffle: the term for when you begin to sneeze, some random person comes up and covers your mouth and without wiping his hand, runs away (Cyrus)

makebate: what bait-makers do when they’re not denouncing ballet and promoting tap (Bryan)

manit: a pause in hand-to-hand combat because one of the combatants has an itch “down there” (Jay Marshall)

manypleise: the disease that causes cows to have blotches instead of stripes. It is very common (Greg)

marlish: to continuously give blood in order to have more room for chili (Corey)

mawworm: an evasive wall (Derek)

mehari (1): a giant stone used to sort through large pieces of baby (Aaron)

mehari (2): spite filled balloons that, when popped, erase your entire family and family history right off the planet (Mitch)

menseful (1): a jail term . . . just a jail term (Ron)

menseful (2): a topographic error. ex: to have a mountain range in your rectum (Derek)

mercaptan (1): bringing a cadaver to take-your-daughter-to-work day (Will)

mercaptan (2): Underwater Breathing Self Apparatus Contained. UBSAC never caught on (Scott)

mizzy: the tabloid section of the stock report (Kevin)

musnud (1): a failed wrestler whose gimmick was that he did laundry. Musnud the Launderer (Aaron)

musnud (2): having the same characteristics as a flea market (Derek)

mustelid: when Bryan walks into a party and says “Wow, I musteleid ’em all by now” and leaves (Mitch)

natatorium: a museum that houses imaginary musical instruments, such as the euphorium, the chum drum, and the kickinthenutsaphone (Derek)

navicert: not a piece of toast; the whole toast (Derek)

nullanulla: kinda like a much much larger version of the Molotov Cocktail – using a crane, you take an already flaming building and drop it on the building you want to set on fire (Corey)

nurdle (1): smells like ovaries (Corey)

nurdle (2): a well-hung participle (Aaron)

ollapod: to velcro a bunny to your forehead because you like the way the fur makes your eyes water (Mitch)

omphaloskepsis: when you see a girl and it looks like her mascara is running and you ask, “Excuse me, have you been crying?” and she says “IT’S VOLCANIC ASH, YOU FUCKING JERK!” (Mitch)

oologist: one who looks for ways to make irony more apparent, for instance, turning smoke detectors into fire hazards by piling them in front of all exits (Corey)

orison: giving birth to a baby. . .(pause). . .orally (Jason Waller)

ouscutate: to suck on the Pope (I never said it was legal) (Will)

pannychous: to become a carpenter solely because you can vomit caulk (Mitch)

pawleekarpick: the slut of all fruit trees it bears fruit many times every night for a different farmer and has no self-respect for itself because of a daddy complex (Domo)

pesade : to carry around your baby like a football, occasionally passing it off to strangers to see if they’ll run with it or not (Derek)

petasus: a remote-control bush (Will)

philater: a device used to loosen up the clump of dead people in my cave…my cave of Dead People (Bryan)

pintle: the raised bumps in an infant’s forehead that complement the indentations on the golf ball that left them (Eric R)

pizzle: a trap that’s nearly impossible to get caught in because it involves being 6000 degrees at the time of capture (Derek)

pleach: a person who latches onto barnacles “to return the favor” (Aimee)

plimsoll: a fruit with radioactive pit and paralyzing spikes. It’s very difficult to eat, but as they say, “What doesn’t kill you makes you radioactive and paralyzed” (Eric R)

plumbago: a medical deficiency in bones; i.e. less than three (Derek)

plumbum (1): an alarm clock that only tells you when it’s not time to wake up (Corey)

plumbum (2): to find inner peace in your wife – no wait, that’s another dude (Derek)

ponzi (1): a reverse kamakazi pilot; he crashes his plane in such a way that it induces labor (Derek)

ponzi (2): to successfully shower before the porcupine gets REALLY jealous (Mitch)

poonac: a clever reversal of the failed McDonald’s promotion “Happy Can O’ Poop” to disguise the true contents of the meal (Dr. Fenkart)

poppism: p.o. – you smell; p.p. – tinkle; ism – in the fashion.  Ergo, poppism = you smell like trendy piss (Paul)

powsowdy: to reap the benefits of fascism in a monkey suit (Bryan)

princox: a succession of events that beings with an avalanche and ends with strawberry fritters (Derek)

prushun: what my Grandma used to call me after her untimely demise. Of course, I had to move her mouth and do the voice, but whatever, it’s her (Bryan)

punty: a rodent very similar to a doric column (Kevin)

ramfeezled: a word that when written in a circle brings about the rebirth of the League of Nations (Kevin)

rataplan: the side of your mother she doesn’t often show (Derek)

recto : the spot on the stomach of a baby that invariably makes them laugh when touched. Be careful! It’s one millimeter away from the spot that makes them crack in half (Derek)

rosmarine: an ancient berry used to calm deer who are trying to come to terms with his or her homosexuality (Jaime)

sapit: it was a dark and stormy night…the pants were eating their dinner and I was enjoying the Jets game. Now you know this isn’t real…no one enjoys a Jets game (Aaron)

sardoodledum: stepping on a pair of glasses while your sister is still wearing them (Dierdre)

scandaroon: to pull a fast one on Richard Nixon (Alisha)

scarpology: humping for points (Bryan)

scarrow (1): when, for the sake of variation, the priest stops breaking bread and starts breaking bones (Derek)

scarrow (2): a short stroll along a timeline (Alisha)

schnecke (1): exhibitionist snakes who actually track down those Discovery Channel people in order to have sex on cable TV (Borch)

schnecke (2): a pet name you give to one you think you love, but in actuality, you’re just using them for their burning tire-yard (Eric R)

sclaff: the part of the body (Derek)

scotoma: a skateboard move resulting in change of gender, cross-dressing, or the desire to drink milk with businessmen (Jaime)

scrobiculate (1): to fill a coffin with a dead body instead of honey (Corey)

scrobiculate (2): the term referring to the first time testicular cancer was misdiagnosed as ‘testicular dancer’ (Bryan)

scroot: a raft made for stealing (Kevin)

scumble: a technical term for pole-vaulting when the pole vaulter runs in the wrong direction and leaps into the stands (Cyrus)

scuppernong: a time of day in Switzerland where everyone goes home to use the toaster (Aaron)

scurfer : association based on negatives as in: if everything then [end universe here] (Kevin)

seckel : anyone who thinks they are involved in the Battle of Hastings whenever they attend parties (Will)

sermunckle: the situation in a baseball game wherein a baserunner gets a line drive lodged in his face, then in his agony runs into the outfield and over the wall, resulting in a homerun (Bryan)

shebo: the use of feng shui as a form of combat (Corey)

shilpit: an adopted child just after they found out their real dad was hung in the Nuremberg Trial (Kevin)

shoon (1): a small clay tool used to push bits of anti-matter under the carpet (Stephanie)

shoon (2): when shadows fall in love (Caroline)

sinopis: when explaining a story, to make it much longer and more boring than the original. See Will Hickey (Derek)

sirretch: to contend that the only one who can eat a Reese’s the wrong way is Catherine Hepburn (Bryan)

skeg: the diseased portion of Romper Room (Bryan)

skerfer: to have a wonderful name but mysteriously lack initials (Bryan)

skimmington: a talking stuffed bear that never made it on the market due to the fact that young British children couldn’t give two shits about yard work (Corey)

sklodowskite: the active ingredient in sin (Bryan)

slobgollion: to remove a tooth using a pea with the gravitational pull of a black hole (Mitch)

sloom: a Egyptian carpet which jealously lusts after the Oriental carpet’s husband, Charles (Kevin)

slumboes: a daring acrobatic move that creates a rift in time, sending 10,000 angry Norsemen right into the fray of some poor little girl’s dismount (Derek)

smeddum: the pasty substance left on the treads of the monster truck after it makes it all the way through the day-care center (Derek)

sniggle: to catch eels by throwing bait into their hiding place and watching as they jump into your bucket to express their thanks (Corey)

snollygoster: a mythological beast who served a brief stint as the secretary of state until they stopped telling stories about him (Aaron)

snook: a new take on an old children’s game, also called “Duck Duck Rape” (Mitch)

sord : to compete biologically (Dierdre)

spanghew: to be religiously excommunicated for thinking that Mount St. Helens is not a volcano, but an order from God (Bryan)

spatang: the sound oranges would make when simulating a shoot-out, if oranges were allowed to own guns (Corey)

spatilomancy: a form of modern dance no longer used because of the great percentage who caught fire (Derek)

sphairistike: a roller coaster with no restraints, no seats, no remorse. It stops at the peak of a loop, allowing all passengers to spill to the ground, then seconds later, the train comes crashing down upon them to finally silence their terrified screams (Bryan)

splacknuck: Polish cousin of the renowned satellite, Splacknuck successfully orbited the Harrington Park traffic circle three times before plummeting into the Hudson River, where it dissolved (Stephanie)

spoffler: a woman who could suck the chrome off a doorknob, and often does; from the German spoeffel, one who dislikes shiny objects (Stephanie)

squatinid (1): unusually small receptacle used to hold N’Sync’s talent (Stephanie)

squatinid (2): a frustration specific only to finding out you have no ankles although you clearly remember them being there yesterday (Jeff)

squitters: an intern that never does anything right (i.e. – “Squitters, when I say donuts, I mean DONUTS!”) (Will)

stanhope: when the day of reckoning becomes so commonplace that it comes after the sports in the newscast (Derek)

stickamstam: when the doctor accidentally removes your skull but not the head so your face kinda flops about. Then he says, “Oooooh, Shrinkidinks!” (Mitch)

tankle (1): to have all the blood flow to your extremities cut off by militant white blood cells (Aaron)

tankle (2): to sanctify victims of crib deaths by racing the cribs down the street and over the bodies (Jay M)

tapetum: where nuns go to knit new priests. Also, a type of kelp useful in training said nuns to knit (Mike F.)

taphophilia: a strong affinity for funerals that involve the throwing of a bouquet to determine who gets to die next (Corey)

taplash (1): a moat filled not with water but with castles (Aaron and Derek)

taplash (2): a portrait created with perishable materials so you can watch the person rot away over the years (Corey)

tappen: dance-based accounting system where a soft-shoe scuff represents ones, a left-right ball change represents tens, and so on (Stephanie)

tappoon: like a harpoon, but used to gain one’s attention, not so much kill them (Keith)

tektite: an infant holster (Bryan)

teledu: a moon of Saturn which, in a bold act of rebellion, gave up glowing and became a voice-over artist (Derek)

teleran: when your shadow complains because you’re always in the way of it getting a tan (Bryan)

tench (1): the tree grown from “Roots” the miniseries (Paul)

tench (2): the plural of ten (Caroline)

thenar: the 17th second before an explosion. Every second before an explosion has its own individual word; drives physicists crazy (Eric R)

thesicle: a replacement testicle full of angry, angry sperm without remorse, and they attack the egg with reckless abandon, those sperm, leaving only wanton destruction in their wake (Bryan)

thob: to pattern one’s pants like the Israeli flag and make pilgrimages to yourself (Bryan)

tiffing: a verb meaning to car (Kevin)

tilbury: the ghetto name for Pillsbury products. The Tilbury dough boy carries a gun and a crack pipe (Stacey)

topepo: a eucalyptus tree with retracting ten inch spikes which it uses to play nasty pranks on unsuspecting koalas (Corey)

tragomasehalia: the farthest a skydiver can fall before changing his mind and getting back on the plane (Derek)

tragopan: the addition of the mythical Satyr to the Power Rangers team. “Tragopan: flute attack!” (Jason Waller)

trork: to re-enact famous and decisive naval battles in your bathtub using actual sea-craft (Derek)

tucket: the long part of a wheel (Aaron)

tweeny: a really small yarmulke for a really small Jew (Susan)

vaccary : I still believe in the Easter Bunny (Borch)

verbigeration: recycling ugly people into productive members of our night shifts (Erika)

vinegaroon: started as a joke between a priest and Tattoo from Fantasy Island, it was a short Mexican citrus Jesus (Bryan)

vuggs: a venereal disease that is quite pleasant, actually (Derek)

wanion: the realization that menstruation is actually bad luck due to the waning of the moon (Cyrus)

weedmonkey: def: not applicable (Keith)

witzelsucht: alternate lyrics to the George Thorogood classic, “One bourbon, one scotch, one witzelsucht.” (Will)

woopnacker: a phenomenally moving and emotional eulogy (just approach a priest at the end of a funeral, hold out your hand, and tell him, “Nice woopnacker, Father”) (Will)

wungee (1): the man who holds the world record for stuffing Indians down his pants (Derek)

wungee (2): when your bungee cord snaps and you are no longer pulling wungee, it’s more like 6-7 G’s (Mitch)

xerotic (1): the really bad porn that nobody ever rents and they wind up putting it in the kids section (Ron)

xerotic (2): the feeling that you owe it all to maple syrup (Will)

xystus: the new Sega video game system so real, you just pay $600 at the counter, then walk around the real world remarking how good and realistic the graphics are (Bryan)

zaffer: tiny people that pan your hair for gold (Dierdre)
zobo: the little boy on the pogo stick jumping to keep his fingers (Aaron)

zoster : to excrete nuns (Stephanie)

March 22, 1903: the River Styx first opens its ferry service to the damned (Kevin)

November 4, 1914: this date used to be an important date in history until it was discovered that it wrote its own Wikipedia entry (Corey)

November 4, 1914: the opening of the first movie with sound.  Oddly, people weren’t surprised by the talking, but by the fact that the movie was Pootie Tang (Jay Lawton)

May 7, 1914: in an attempt to gain momentum in his candidacy for ‘Most Hated German of the 20th Century’, Kaiser Wilhelm buys a full-page ad in the newspaper to put a picture of him molesting a child wrapped in the German flag (Aaron)

September 1, 1914: the passenger pigeon became extinct in a tragic rush hour 6 million bird pile-up (Aimee)

March 7, 1917: day 9 of the Welsh protest against glee (Eric R)

January 26, 1925: Erwin Phipps announces that he’s invented the female orgasm.  Under further scrutiny, he admitted it was just an upside-down pie tin and a bit of string (Stephanie)

January 26, 1925: an alchemist discovers a cure for cancer, but then remembers he’s an asshole (Sara)

April 9, 1928: after a terrible and bloody feud with February 21 1928, April 9th was dubbed Sir April 9th, 1928 (Kevin)

October 28, 1929: the day the Great Anticipation gave way to Feelings of Inadequacy (Paul)

August 1, 1932: the “short bus” is born, thus ending the tradition of dragging retarded kids through the streets, attached by fishing line to a VW Bug to get them to school (Will)

August 1, 1932: the parachute was improved on by attaching strings to the chute (Corey)

July 28, 1933: Nintendo launches their popular depression-series card battle game.  Featuring Scruffy Hobo the Stockbroker and Jiggly-Child Molester Puff Man (Jeff D)

March 3, 1939: “Sprite” was invented, although due to an error in production, it was called “Spite” and it was filled with kerosene (Derek)

January 19, 1946: failing to admit to losing the war, Germany decides to invade themselves, to make them feel better (Aaron)

July 31, 1948: Pontius Pilate realizes the irony of the whole situation (Derek)

July 13, 1954: the day the Earth stopped rotating for 12 seconds, causing the single largest immigration (Aaron)

June 18, 1958: Darwinian evolution comes to a halt and starts to go funky when creatures start adapting features that will kill them off quicker: eagles evolve lead-weight talons, spiders lose all eight legs and their torso…etc (Derek)

November 3, 1957: the day some uppity chick got smacked around too much and thought, ‘Hey, feminism would be good about now’ (Susan)

November 3, 1957: the day the music was diagnosed with cervical cancer (Derek)

June 18, 1958: Darwinian evolution comes to a halt and starts to go funky when creatures start adapting features that will kill them off quicker: eagles evolve lead-weight talons, spiders lose all eight legs and their torso… etc (Derek)

August 16. 1958: the first date in history whose numeric date is an oxymoron (Eric R)

August 16, 1958: the day the goldfish was implemented (Caroline)

August 16, 1962: the date of the failed attempt at the Kennedy Assassination…the CIA greatly overestimated the toxicity of Marilyn Monroe (Joe Time)

February 22, 1963: the day the phrase “to be continued…” (Aimee)

March 29, 1971: we all decided to get totally drunk. We drunk punch which was spiked with mouthwash…which was spiked with rum…which was spiked with TERROR! (Eric R)

March 25, 1975: Hans von Munchen Bussler, 32nd in line to be King of Saudi Arabia, is killed by his nephew.  Oddly, this actually knocks Bussler up to No. 5 in succession (Angela)

February 10, 1987: the last date to be conquered by February 5th in forming the President’s Day empire (Corey)

April 23, 1988: the day that refuses to bare its midriff of 5’s, 6’s and 7’s (Emily)

June 28, 1988: on this date, an unholy alliance was formed between Gerber Foods and Smith and Wesson. “Look Sweetie, here comes the airplane…BANG!” (Bryan)

July 31, 1988: Egypt thought they entered the space race by successfully launching a bottle rocket in the air. They were told mid-August they were wrong (Aaron)

Anton Van Leeuwenhoek: inventor of the microscope and centrifuge. Sometimes he gets really drunk and tries to find out how dizzy he can make an organism get (Mitch)

Arnold Fornichou: the first person to put an ailing pet to sleep, though his method of unceremoniously lobbing them into a pork shanker was quickly replaced (Bryan)

Betty and Richard James: the infamous lovebirds that in 1956 stole all the ink from every pen between Florida and Rhode Island in order to create the Indian Ocean (Kevin)

Carmelina Fedele: kickstarted the 80’s – in 80 A.D. she sported legwarmers and anti-Semitism (Derek)

Arnold Fornichou: failed entrepreneur – established Forna-Caterers food service (Paul)

Debbie Horn: the woman who swallowed a genie lamp so her stomach could have three wishes (Mitch)

Edward Teach: got thrown out of 6th grade for calling Ms. Stonehouse a “half-baked loaf of bitch” (Bryan)

Erasmus Bond: also known as secret double agent James Bond, had to change his name when he joined the union. There was already an Erasmus (Paul)

Frieda Carter: the first woman not to play jazz-bass (Eric R)

Frieda Carter: the person people are really talking to when they think they’re talking to themselves (Kate K)

George Blaisdell: invented the Zippo lighter that, once lit, never goes out until a forest disappears (Caroline)

George Dawes: the first man to replace his large intestine with a “Biggie Size” intestine (Corey)

Harold Fulp: the first man to donate his toes for the sake of goodness: “For goodness sake take my toes” (Caroline)

Hippolyte M. Mouries: the Greek God of Rome (Paul)

Jesse Reno: the first person to screw up a filibuster when she ran out of synonyms for “fuckbucket” (Derek)

Joel Cheek: ate his wife just to shut her up (Derek)

Joseph Montegu: born in the Medieval Ages, Mr. Montegu was the first worker who went “postal.” Back then, they call it “going parchment beating” (Cyrus)

Joseph Montegu: invented the steam powered kettle (Corey)

Professor Leo Kongee: devised a maze for mice where every dead end had a hunk of cheese, and the exit brings you back to the start. The study was to see how fat you could get a mouse (Bryan)

Professor Leo Kongee: a Nintendo classic where, instead of jumping over barrels, you teach physics to kids in Poughkeepsie (Will)

Ralph Wedgewood: his pickup line was: What’s the difference between Wedgewood and peanut butter?  I can’t peanut butter my dick up your ass (Sara)

Rant Mullens: fused a shoehorn to his inner ear canal to measure just how long he thought in shoe (Mitch)

Robert B. Thomas: taste-tester extrordinaire – he had the power to tell when you will die by licking your earlobe… inserting the poison (Aaron)

Robert B. Thomas: accidentally stoned in 1975 when a bunch of stone-skipping kids mistook him for a lake (Corey)

Sarah Winchester: New England housewife who created a delicious new cookie made of the flesh of a prowler she’d caught breaking into her home.  The intruder was later substituted by chocolate pieces and the Tollhouse cookie was born (Stephanie)

Sarah Winchester: lived near Niagara Falls and pretended to be a barrel so she could feel a man inside her eventually (Derek)

Tannakin Skinker: the guy who hated the inventor of the crock pot a really really lot (Jess W)

3 Nuts In Search of a Bolt: a small boy named Phillip gets trapped up to his waist in cement at age 7. The neighborhood kids all line up and kick him in the head in this 2 hour documentary (Mitch)

A Lady Takes a Chance : a young woman’s love for her boyfriend is tested as he is put under a large cup and is shuffled around with other large cups – she can only marry him if she selects him (Derek)

Assignment Terror: an openly black man scares the bejesus out of a closet KKK member (Derek)

Do You Like Women?: a man in a suit behind a desk appears and asks, “Do you like women?” He then stares at you unnervingly, impatiently waiting for an answer for two hours. For the last five minutes of the film, he is clearing his throat (Bryan)

How Sweet It Is: a chocolateur makes a fortune by replacing the chocolate Easter bunny with the chocolate Easter Judas (Corey)

I Hate Blondes: it wasn’t actually a movie as it was a plan concocted by a man who loved blondes.  He figured the movie title would lure brunettes to the theatre where he’d proceed to gas them (Corey)

I’m Dangerous Tonight: in a world without multi-celled organisms, only one paramecium has the guts to take it to the man.  Rated R for violence, mitotic division, and unlanguage (Kevin)

Incredible Melting Man: a poignant look at a man who can only exist at absolute zero. Running time: .06 seconds (Derek)

Kansas City Bomber: “In a world without hope, one man had the courage to stand tall. One man who had a dream to fight for freedom through the perils of war. One man to save us all. That makes three men. All doing the same friggin’ thing. For our country.” (Bryan)

Little Cigars: 50 minutes of romantic-comedy set in a pickling plant; single mother finds love with nosey janitor. Concluding 55 minutes of Asian-American women screaming (Eric R)

New Pastures: two childhood friends meet up again to fight over the ashes of the kid they accidentally killed in second grade (Aaron)

Only One Night: you’ve always heard the New York Times rave about movies…now a film that raves about the New York Times (Will)

Operation Bullshine: Hey kids!  Let’s learn alternative ways to cuss!  Spoiler alert: they fuckin’ fail the mission (Sara)

Seed People: the period film of the harvesters who planted seeds in the dirt. Problem is, they grew dirt, so they were often overlooked (Bryan)

Shack Out on 101: the story of a bum who convinced everybody the toll booth he took over was an actual residence (Susan)

Someone Behind the Door: a rich billionaire who watched his parents die as a child chooses to fight evil by hiding behind doors and opening them into people (Cyrus) Sssssss: World War II drama about the least creative, rug-tug German Naval ship, the fabled S.S.S.S.S.S.S. (Eric R)

That Sinking Feeling: confessions of a developer who built nursing homes on swamps and felt bad when he realized people do miss old people after all (Erika)

The Fabulous Joe: Stalin goes on ‘Queer Eye for the Straight Guy’ (Max)

The Girl Less Likely: 64,000 rapid shots of foliage culminating in the credits (Derek)

The Outing: frustrated girlfriend invents the opposite of baseball (Stephanie)

The Secret Life of Archie’s Wife: Edith Bunker’s true identity is revealed as a KGB mole, whose assignment was to steal government secrets from Archie, only to discover she was the butt of a cruel office joke (Susan)

The Tuttles of Tahiti: the first film where the subtitles are screamed by a hyperactive 2nd grader (Bryan)

 

They Might Be Giants Albums, Worst to First

TMBG Albums, Worst to First

Time for another pointless list, this time the best They Might Be Giants albums of all time. Couple of rules here: I’m only listing the ones I own. I haven’t bought much of their new stuff (such as “Why” and “Phone Power”, nor do I own the kids album “Here Come the 123s”) and I don’t have many of the collections. I’m lumping all the EPs into one entry because 20 is a nice round number. Also, I want to say this review seems to slag on Flansburgh a lot, and what I want everyone to take away instead is that I *REALLY* like John Linnell’s songwriting. Anyway, here we go!

  1. Here Come the ABCs (2005) – I’m not going to pretend to be the biggest fan of TMBG’s kids albums, but a few of them have some merit. This is one I feel best encapsulates why I tend to not like “new” TMBG stuff. Basically everything after Factory Showroom seems to be them experimenting with voices and silly sounds. Many of the songs on this album are downright annoying, and this is coming from a parent who listens to tons of crap my kids like.

Songs to Listen to: Alphabet of Nations; Go for G!

  1. Venue Songs (2004)A “collection” album of songs they wrote (probably the day of a concert) for various venues they played at. While their dial-a-song service was great, I felt it was better for satiating die-hard fans rather than calling what they produce in a week a ‘finished product’. Add to that I’m not generally a fan of live albums, and you see why this falls where it does.

Songs to Listen to: The Stony Pony (Asbury Park); Anaheim House of Blues (Anaheim); First Avenue Stage (Minneapolis)

  1. Glean (2015) – So this is the real reason I’m writing this list. My love for TMBG has sorta waned in recent years. I felt the band was concentrating too hard on silly sounding instrumentation and I’ve come to almost dislike Flansburgh’s songwriting. 2013’s Nanobots changed my opinion and made me look forward to a new album. What I got instead is this one. Sure it isn’t ingrained in my brain like older albums are, but still, there isn’t much to this album I’d call memorable. Of note, however, is that this is the first album of their in many where I *do* actually like some of Flansy’s songs. That might say more to how unimpressed I am with it, though.

Songs to Listen to: Unpronounceable (I really like this song); Answer; Madam, I Challenge You to a Duel

  1. EPs (various) – I’m cheating here by lumping all their EPs into one category. Truth be told, some of the EPs contain really good songs, but in general, it’s no surprise that many of these tracks missed the album’s final cut. I’m specifically addressing the following EPs (as I don’t have all of them): Why Does the Sun Shine?; Back to Skull; They Might Be Giants… in Holidayland; Bed, Bed, Bed; Indestructible Object; The Spine Surfs Alone. (Also, if Holidayland didn’t exist, this ‘album’ might be higher, but man those are some lousy songs.

Songs to Listen to: Mrs. Train (from Skull); Ant (from Object)

  1. Severe Tire Damage (1998) – Another live album, though the inclusion of Dr. Worm and the Theme from Severe Tire Damage are welcome additions. The live versions of these songs aren’t overwhelmingly different than the studio albums, though I like their slower version of She’s an Angel and a really good version of She’s Actual Size. I also just like “she’s” songs, apparently. This loses MANY points for the inclusion of the “Apes” songs, which are just bad songs recorded poorly.

Songs to Listen to: She’s Actual Size; She’s an Angel; Dr. Worm

  1. No! (2002) – TMBG had not developed an identity as a kids band at this time, and I think that actually helped this album. Sure it lacks focus, but there are some pretty fun songs on it. What helps is they didn’t try to teach anything with this album, they just tried to entertain. That it does, even if some of the songs fall flat.

Songs to Listen to: Violin; Four of Two; I Am Not Your Broom

  1. Long Tall Weekend (1998)/ They Got Lost (2002) – These two compilation albums aren’t technically the same, but there is plenty of overlap, so I’m including them both. The first was available ONLY via MP3 download (back before anyone knew what that was) but I was lucky enough to be at a concert where they hucked a CD copy right at me. There are some real gems on here, but I could certainly do without hearing On Earth My Nina ever again.

Songs to Listen to: Certain People I Could Name; Reprehensible; Older; Lullaby to Nightmares

  1. The Else (2007) – I gotta be honest, this album probably would have done more poorly if it didn’t come with the “B” side album, Cast Your Pod to the Wind. The latter contains two of my favorite TMBG songs of all time. As for the main album, it is, unlike the title track, unimpressive.

Songs to Listen to: Brain Problem Situation; We Live in a Dump; Bird of the Bee of the Moth; The Mesopotamians

  1. Miscellaneous T (1991) – The fanboy in me probably ranks this “B” side collection better than it should, but man, this was my youth here. Some of the songs truly are among TMBGs greats, though in all fairness some of the others probably shouldn’t have made it onto any purchasable album.

Songs to Listen to: Hey Mr. DJ…; I’ll Sink Manhattan; It’s Not My Birthday; The Famous Polka

  1. Factory Showroom (1996) – This album marked the first time I was disappointed with a TMBG album. I bought it the day it came out and saw a measly 13 tracks. Worse yet, many of them didn’t hit at first. Sure, I grew to love the album in time and most of the tracks, but it was a really slow burn. I also stopped seeing them live soon after this as their shows became less band-having-fun and more Flans-yelling-a-lot.

Songs to Listen to: Till My Head Falls Off; Exquisite Dead Guy; Spiraling Shape; I Can Hear You

  1. Here Comes Science (2009)Every rule has an exception. I said before I don’t love the kids CDs (though I’d still rather hear TMBG kids stuff verses 95% of “other” kids’ music). This album is different. The topic has much to do with it, as I and my family all love science. But the songs here are clever, fun, and educational. These songs have replayability, too, something many of their kids CDs don’t.

Songs to Listen to: Meet the Elements; My Brother the Ape; How Many Planets?; Solid Liquid Gas

  1. Join Us (2011) – Really, #s 9-7 are all interchangeable, and they’re adult studio albums #8, 9, and 11 (The Else, which was just above this, was #10). These aren’t bad albums, per se, they’re just sort of… there. It was also at this time that the rift between the songs written by Linnell and those written by Flansburgh really became noticeable.

Songs to Listen to: Canajoharie; When Will You Die; Spoiler Alert

  1. Mink Car (2001) – See #9.

Songs to Listen to: Man, It’s So Loud in Here; Yeh Yeh; Drink

  1. The Spine (2004) – See # 9, but with this addition: this was, in all actuality, the last time I actively sought out new TMBG releases and started buying them whenever I saw them on sale.

Songs to Listen to: Experimental Film; Museum of Idiots; Stalk of Wheat; I Can’t Hide From My Mind

  1. They Might Be Giants (the Pink Album) (1986) – Back where it all started. This wasn’t the first TMBG album I owned (like almost everyone else, it was Flood), but this was a totally ambitious first album for any band. No drums, no bass, all programming, and songs that defied all types of musical convention. There was an accordion throughout. The lyrics were usually very dark but sung incredibly happily. It’s a pretty special album.

Songs to Listen to: Everything Right is Wrong Again; Don’t Let’s Start; Nothing’s Gonna Change My Clothes; (She Was a) Hotel Detective; She’s An Angel; Chess Piece Face

  1. Nanobots (2013) – This album made me a fan again. Basically every album they release, fans on Amazon say “It’s nothing like their old stuff!” or “This is the first album since XXX to capture their old magic.” I don’t buy that anymore. They’ve evolved, and I’m okay with that. But really, the later albums are missing two things: quirky, witty lyrics and catchy melodies. This one brought them both back in force. Sure, there are some duds on here, and I still can’t get into most Flansburgh songs, but there is so much to like about this album. Totally caught me by surprise.

Songs to Listen to: You’re on Fire; Call You Mom; Sleep; 9 Secret Steps; Decision Makers; Icky

  1. Flood (1990) – I have a theory that, for most bands that people actively like, the first album they buy/listen to will always be their favorite. This was my first, and for a long time it was my favorite. (Guilty admission: I didn’t care for it for about a year, then I randomly put it on one day and fell in love with it.) Scott Fourre got me into them by playing “Whistling in the Dark” for me, which was my ultimate hook. And the rest is history. It’s still a fantastic album, and to this day when people refer to the one quintessential album by ANY band, they’ll sometimes refer to it as that band’s “Flood” (“Fashion Nugget” is Cake’s “Flood”).

Songs to Listen to: Birdhouse in Your Soul; Dead; Particle Man; We Want a Rock; Minimum Wage; Letterbox; Whistling in the Dark

  1. John Henry (1994) – I distinctly remember when this album came out, They Might Be Giants “purists” were aghast. How could they ditch the drum machine? A full band? What the crap of what?!?! I held judgement. Part of me wanted to join the crowd, but I couldn’t because the album was Just. So. Good. My first concerts were around this album so I didn’t really get the true “John and John” experience, though they later replicated it during some shows. But the songs are just so awesome on this album. Really, if you’ve never heard them before, listening to any of the top 6 albums are solid choices, but #s 1-3 in particular.

Songs to Listen to: Subliminal; AKA Driver; No One Knows My Plan; Destination Moon; A Self Called Nowhere; Meet James Ensor; Window; The End of the Tour

  1. Lincoln (1988) – The top three albums are also interchangeable in my mind; they’re all fantastic albums. Their replayability is off the charts, their lyrics are excellent, their melodies and chords are super catchy. Picking between them is like picking between your children. Lincoln is many TMBG fans’ favorite album, and for good reason: there really isn’t a dud on it. Well, except Santa’s Beard. It also blazed the way with the first few true “hits” the band had before their Flood explosion. It holds up well to this day.

Songs to Listen to: Ana Ng; Cowtown; Lie Still Little Bottle; Purple Toupee; Where Your Eyes Don’t Go; Pencil Rain; The World’s Address; Shoehorn with Teeth

  1. Apollo 18 (1992) – Most people remember this album because it has Fingertips, the mashup of tiny songs. TMBG even tried something similar on Nanobots, but I don’t know of anything like it before or after in music. That being said, the album is so much more than Fingertips (and it still annoys me that they split up all the tracks on a CD so it can play on random!) Another album with nary a weak track, and essentially no difference in the caliber of writing between of the Johns.

Songs to Listen to: Dig My Grave; I Palindrome I; She’s Actual Size; Spider; The Guitar; Dinner Bell; Which Describes How You’re Feeling; See the Constellation; Turn Around; Fingertips

 

Interestingly, or not really if you’ve read any of this, of the 90+ songs I listed in the “Songs to Listen to” sections, only about 25 of them were written by Flansburgh. But since I feel like I’ve spent this whole blog bashing him, I want to say that if I were to have a top 10 TMBG songs list, he’d had more than 20% representation. She’s Actual Size is easily in my top 3 (maybe #1?), and also Lie Still Little Bottle, Hotel Detective, We Live in a Dump, and See the Constellation would all be in the running. AND Go for G is easily the best song on the lackluster ABCs album. So sorry John F., since I’m sure you’re going to read this and be piiiiiiiissed.

2017 Disc Golf Goals

After last year’s success (I hit 9 of my 15 goals which were, in truth, not exactly reach-for-the-sky goals), I’m going to try to top that this year. 2017 will be my last year playing Open (the regular professional division) because in 2018 I will be able to move to the Masters (old dudes) division where I hope to have better success. So does that mean this is a transition year?

Well, hopefully not. For the last two years I’ve played quite a bit until King of the Lake then basically stopped playing all year. One of my goals is obviously not to do that, but for a special reason. What is that reason? Read on to find out!

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1) Gain enough PDGA points to qualify for Masters Worlds in 2018. 

This is the aforementioned reason why I want to play the whole season out. It looks like I need 600 points to qualify for 2018 Worlds (the location of which has not yet been announced). In the off chance it’s somewhere accessible to me, I’d like to qualify outright instead of hoping to get in when registration opens up to the public. My pro points WILL count for Masters totals, though, so that’s nice. How often have I hit 600 points in a season? Since moving west in 2008, I’ve hit 600 points 7 out of the 9 years. That sounds like a shoo-in until you realize that I was only over 800 points in one of those years, and quite a few were just barely over 600. It’ll mean playing many tournaments that are well populated by open players and beating some of them.

basket2) Break the odd-year curse by cashing in at least 1/4 of my events. 

Last year I lowered my bar so much it was a tripwire – I hoped to just cash at all. This year I’m going to raise the bar to a difficult be achievable goal: making money back at least 25% of the time. This is something I’ve done about half the years I’ve been a pro, but those tend to be the years I play fewer tournaments. We’ll see if I can have sustained success over a year where I hope to play quite a bit.

basket3) Cash at King of the Lake

I’m not sure if this will be easier or harder this year. The King will be a smaller tournament than in past (2 days instead of 3) so it may not attract quite the large fields it has in the past. While that seems to make it easier, it might just mean that more of the top “local” pros show up and raise the cash bar comparatively. I’ve cashed in half the KotLs I’ve played (3 of 6).

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4) “Make” more than $700 in Masters

Clearly, I’m not playing in Masters so I can’t make money in Masters. But making the logical assumption that I would have finished with the same overall score as I did in pro, I want to find out how much I *would* have made in Masters. Take 2015 for example. I made $0, not cashing once in Open. Had I been in Masters and played the exact same, I would have cleared almost $1000. Last year I made $345 but would have made $470 in Masters.

basket5) Play every event at the Sierra Series FINALLY.

I’ve never done this, though it’s been a goal of mine every year. It’s comprised of seven tournaments this year and it includes (and removes) a few traditional courses, so it’ll be a pretty interesting year. Dayton is in for a 2 day tourney (never been done before I don’t think) and Truckee Regional is out (yay because I don’t like the course, boo because I tend to shoot it well). Kirkwood is in, which is cool as I’ve never played there.

basket6) No DFL (dead f’n last) finishes.

I wasn’t going to include this again this year as it is a pretty easy goal to hit (I’ve only DFL’ed 3x since moving west, and two of those were technically ties so they weren’t DEAD last). I *am* including it mainly because I’m starting my tournament season next week after having taken the last six months off. Seriously, I’ve thrown maybe 50 holes since last June. And I’m playing at a course I’ve always done poorly – Auburn, where I’ve only beat my rating once and have averaged 15 points worse than my average). Plus I may hit up some other tournaments pre-May when I historically do very poorly.

basket7) Beat Jere Eshelman in a single PDGA round.

Last year I tied him twice. This will be the year, I can feel it (provided we even play at the same tournaments this year – he hardly played any Sierra Series events).

basket8) Keep my lifetime streak of never DNFing (did not finish) a tournament alive. 

With my back getting worse annually, this one is more and more difficult, but so far I’m perfect with it.

basket9) Throw two or more 1000-rated rounds

In my 13 years of playing disc golf, I’ve only achieved this three times: 2006, 2009, and 2013. If my math is correct (3 years between the first two times, four between, the second) it won’t be until 2018 until it happens again. But hey, dreamers can dream, can’t they?

basket10) At least 1 round over 1010.

It’s looking less and less likely every year, but I’m gonna keep throwing this one out there.

basket11) No more than 3 rounds below 940

I originally set the goal as no more than 2 rounds below 940, but changed my mind. Since 2008, I’ve achieved my initial goal only in 2009 and 2011, both years I played fewer than normal rounds. Giving myself one extra bad round opens up a few additional years where I achieved the goal, or about 1/2 the time.

basket12) Have my rating go over 965 at some point this year during an update.

Though I’ve hovered around here forever (my rating has been between 958 and 969 since August of 2012), it hasn’t been over 965 since August of 2014.

basket13) Hit an ace or an eagle. 

I’ve averaged one ace a year my whole career but didn’t have one last year. I’m due. (I added the ‘eagle’ a bit because I think I’ve only ever eagled a hole once – hole 4 long at the Ranch, which I’ve seen someone have a 70′ putt at. I guess this gives me a *slightly* easier chance at achieving this goal.)

basket14) Play more casual golf, either alone or with the boys. 

Disc golfer Matt called me up recently just to see how I’m doing and tell me that he’s game to play anytime, even if it’s just at the pitch-and-putt. Paul called me up within a week to basically have the same conversation. I played so little last year because of many factors but I really want to get out and play more “fun” golf this year. Casual rounds, kids rounds, dubs, tags, whatever. I want to get out of this habit of just playing one time the week of a tournament to “get my arm ready”. I want to be playing consistently all year, and I want some of those rounds to not be just to prepare, but just to have fun.

basket15) No missed putts within 15′.

I’m not going to bring a tape measure out with me on the course, but I tend to remember those missed putts pretty well, even if they were 16′. I’ll know which ones I’m talking about.

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It’s an odd numbered year so I want to break my ridiculous streak of sucking in these years, both skill-wise and goal-wise. Other than that, the season starts soon; one week to get my body in shape and there’s snow everywhere in Reno. LET’S BRING IT!

Day 340: FREEDOM!

Well, it’s been almost a year since my surgery and more than 2.5 years since I had my braces on, but the end is in sight. I mean, technically, the end is already here, but I’m still going to be working on whitening my choppers. The original plan was to do it professionally, but I have no money, so toothpaste it is.

But the point is: I’M DONE! And my face has truly undergone a pretty wild transformation. Admittedly, the orthodontics shows more immediate results than the surgery (since I didn’t opt to have the cosmetic chin-extension done, the jaw surgery itself was more practical than aesthetic). So let’s start with the inner workings.

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So as you can see, my face has been mushed about quite a bit because of this. You can see what the orthodontics alone has done to my teeth in picture 3 (taken two months before the surgery), and the change from pictures 1 to 3 seems more drastic, but it’s pretty amazing what the surgery did to the inner part of my jaw. It also added plenty of metal to my face. I’M SO METAL IT HURTS! (Seriously, it did hurt.)

ba-profile1

Truthfully, I expected the difference in my profile to be more stark than it was, but again, I chose not to have a chin implant put in. So I still don’t really have much of a chin, but that doesn’t bother me too much. The 2nd picture in this before-and-after was following the removal of 8 teeth. The third was the day before my surgery, the fourth was two weeks after the surgery. I’ve come a long way.

ba-restingface

This is my resting face, or what some might call my resting pissed face. I generally look pretty angry when I just let my teeth come to their natural position. Maybe it’s because I usually wasn’t in the best of moods when taking these pictures. I dunno. I think the most startling thing about these pictures is that my jaw definitely widened out after the surgery (compare my jaw width in pic 5 to pic 2 – it’s pretty noticeable).

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Here’s a glimpse into the teeth themselves, albeit one that I wish I could shrink a bit to get a better look. I’m going to ignore the coloration, which I’m still unhappy about (perhaps decades of Mountain Dew wasn’t a good idea after all!) but the change in teeth is pretty wild. And lest you think that, for the first two pictures, I was opening my mouth, I wasn’t. This was a closed-teeth smile. That’s what it used to look like. Jeebus.

So how do I feel after the whole ordeal? Well, my jaw still doesn’t open too far (I’ve only just barely cleared the lowest threshold for “normal” opening). It is beginning to hurt a little bit in general on the right side too. That’s disheartening because if it gets worse, I’m likely to have to have my disc removed in my jaw somewhere down the line (MORE SURGERY! JOY!) The right side IS finally popping a little bit – not massive pops but more than just crushing-movement in my mouth, they’re legitimate pops. Maybe that means the condyle is moving closer to where it needs to be. Who knows?

I can eat a burger, and that was the lowest my bar was set. I breathe much better, don’t snore at all, and haven’t really even been sick since the procedure. Not sure if that’s related, but having a wider opening certainly makes it easier when my air passages ARE congested.

Would I do it again? I have heard many people say that they’d gladly do the whole procedure again. (I’ve even read of people who have). No way in hell. It was miserable and my recovery has been atypical and unpleasant. I WILL thank myself for going through it (and I will thank my surgeon) when I’m fifty and not needing oxygen at nights, but still, I did it once and that’s all I really want.

Here’s the final product:

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Disc Golf Review – 2016

Now that I can say with certainty that I am not playing any more events this year, given my ailing back, my job search, my family, my Ubering… etc, it’s time to review how I did on my predictions this year. SURELY I could do better than last year where I completed a whopping 2 of my 15 goals. I mean, I’ve lowered the bar so much over the years that I could basically wriggle over it at this point. Well, let’s see:

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1) Play in enough tourneys to justify the $75 PDGA fee. 

FAIL. I needed to play in 8 PDGA events in order to make back every dollar of the fee. I played in 7. Essentially, I paid $5 more in fees than I should have. Technically I didn’t hit this one, but it’s pretty close. But I’m nothing if not pedantic. 0-1.

basket2) Cash in a tournament. At all. 

SUCCESS! Talk about lowering the bar. Last year was the first year since becoming a full time pro in 2006 that I didn’t cash. So I did cash, three times actually. The first was a cheapie, coming in 2nd in an very weak field where only four players even finished (I averaged under my rating for the record). Then I managed to come in 9th in an extremely strong fielded King of the Lake. Oddly, I won more at the cheapie Dayton event, but that’s neither here nor there. I finished off with a good finish at Bijou, which is surprisingly becoming one of my better courses. It continues my weird trend of even-year success at disc golf.

basket3) Top 3 at either Sun Valley tournament.

FAIL. There was only one tourney there this year and I did pretty poorly at it, throwing my two worst sanctioned rounds ever at Sun Valley. I average 15 points below my rating and was 9 strokes off the cash line. Ugh. Turns out my weak arm is really exposed there, where worse players who can throw farther have easier up shots than me every single hole.

basket4) Cash for the first time in the Sierra Series. 

FAIL, but with a caveat. I’m not sure there even *is* a cash line at the Series anymore. I mean, TECHNICALLY I came in 3rd out of all qualifying players, having played in only 4 events (1st, 2nd, and 4th all played more events than me). But I don’t think anything even went to the winners this year. Maybe it did? I don’t know. I basically stopped playing disc golf after King of the Lake in July for the 2nd straight year.

basket5) No DFL (dead f’n last) finishes.

SUCCESS! The worst I came was 3rd to last (twice) but with a many stroke buffer between me and the bottom. One might argue that this bar is very low, but I will take my victories wherever I can.

basket6) Beat Jere Eshelman in a single PDGA round.

FAIL. The most frustrating fail of all, really. It’s now been almost ten years of competing against him, and in the past the best I’d done was tie him (once? twice? I forget). My best shot was at King of the Lake, where I played the highest-rated tournament I’ve ever played over 5 rounds. In one round, he blew me out of the water, beating me by 8. Two other rounds he just scraped by with 3-stroke victories. What about the other two? TWO TIES! That’s right, I tied him again in two consecutive rounds, at Bijou and then the next day at Truckee. I. Just. Can’t. Beat. Him.

basket7) Keep my lifetime streak of never DNFing (did not finish) a tournament alive. 

SUCCESS! I was playing through some pretty severe back pain and a couple of times had to choke down a few ibuprofin (or stronger) to start the last round, but each time I pulled through. We’ll see how next year goes, as my body doesn’t appear to be reversed the trend of deteriorating rapidly.

basket8) At least 1 1000-rated round

SUCCESS, but man, only by the specific wording I used. I did shoot one 1000 rated round exactly, at Bijou at King of the Lake. Interestingly, I shot three strokes better on a slightly easier layout only a few weeks later and it was rated a measly 992. Go figure.

basket9) At least 1 round over 1010.

FAIL. I now think my best chance of this is when I become Masters age in 2018, especially if I play in a major tourney like Worlds. But for the time being, I gotta be content that I at least have 15 thousand rated rounds to my name, even if 14 of them are 1010 and lower.

basket10) No more than 1 round below 930

SUCCESS! I did throw a 926 rated round, though to be extremely picky it wasn’t during a tournament, it was during the sanctioned league. I threw a couple of duds in that league, though some were rated lower than expected because the league was full of people with otherwise poor ratings who were playing only on their best course. Either way, it was a success. My next lowest rated round was a 937 (also during league).

basket11) Have my rating at some point this year move out of the 959-969 range

SUCCESS! Talk about the cheapest of the cheap. The way I phrased this question implied that a NEGATIVE rating would achieve success, and that’s what happened. What’s more, I only dropped one point below my arbitrary range, to 958. This rating stayed for 3 ratings periods. So by just changing my range, I’ve been within a rating of 958-969 for 28 straight ratings updates (a period of over four years).

basket12) Hit one ace. 

FAIL. No caveats here. No aces either. Though I did throw two remarkable ace runs on the same hole in back to back rounds (hole 26 in the right position at Lizard Peak) that were almost exactly the same. But yeah, no aces this year.

basket13) Camp out and actually have the “fun” experience at one of the Turtle Rock tourneys. 

SUCCESS! And how. Much went into planning this one night, from making sure it was okay with Ash to preparing the van to sleep there to finding a place to legally park… all to really drink too much (after a game of a game I dubbed Jengboccshoes since nobody seems to know the name). It was bad enough where the next round the next day I was “STUNK” as Matt coined the term for “hungover, probably still drunk”. If I put this one on my list next year, it’s going to be to go and have a pleasant campout experience that doesn’t jeopardize my tournament. (I missed cash by only a few strokes that tourney, playing well in my other two rounds.)

basket14) Play dubs at least 5 times this year.

I genuinely don’t know. I played dubs a bit in the beginning of the year, but then it petered out when the sanctioned league started up. Did I play five times? Sure. I’m gonna say I did. Who’s gonna say I’m lying. SUCCESS!

basket15) Try to have fun.

SUCCESS! I normally don’t like these subjective goals, but I can say without hesitation that I had fun playing disc golf this year, even when my back was acting up. Last year I got burned out after King of the Lake (the disappointing finish there might have had something to do with it). I wasn’t having fun. This year I did basically stop after KotL, excluding a one-off while travelling in Virginia, but it wasn’t because I wasn’t enjoying myself. It was coincidence. Of the 4 tournaments I had on my schedule to play afterwards, each of them had a major conflict:

Sierra College – This tourney was (and always seems to land on) Ash’s and my birthdays. Oddly, that’s not why I didn’t play it. Two weeks before I had been out of town for a work interview in NY, and the week prior I was back on the east coast for a wedding. It was a no-brainer to change my plans to be home with the fam.

Markleeville Mayhem – my first diagnostic back injection. I withdrew from the tourney, and even if I had stayed in, I wouldn’t have been able to play.

Nevada States – I had the 2nd round of my short story competition, but oddly THAT wasn’t why I didn’t play. I ended up having an emergency trip to FL to help my mother move her belongings to NC.

The Series Finals – My first true back ablation procedure was the day before, and I DEFINITELY wouldn’t have been able to play after that.

It’s a shame because not only was I played pretty well (not amazing, but solid) but I was genuinely enjoying myself more this year. But life got in the way.

basketbasketbasketbasketbasketbasketbasketbasketbasket

 

 

So it appears my predictions did much better this year. I was 9 out of 15, easily my best total. What does that mean for next year? Well, for one, it’s an odd-numbered year, and I do pretty crappy in those. 2nd, I won’t be masters age yet – I’ll be the oldest “regular” pro. Third, the back ablations I had to fix my back haven’t really done anything. I’m still in significant pain any time I try to bend (I actually have an appointment in an hour with my surgeon to see what’s up).

My goals are going to be pretty scaled down next year. I just don’t know how much I’ll play (I’ve played one round of 9 holes in the last three months of this year and I am still unemployed so I don’t really have money to throw around. I liken the odds of me cashing in a PDGA event with my wonky body right now to be LESS than if I just played poker.) 2018 should be a better year when I can hide away in the age-protected Masters division. I would have cashed in the same # of events this year in Masters, but would have made considerably more money.

Anyway, that’s that. I’m gonna write up a before-and-after update on my teeth shortly. I know, promises promises…

 

The World Series (in picture form)

WORLD SERIES 2016

Game 1: Cleveland, OH

(Time to cue the intro from… well, I’ll just do it…)

If any of you bothered to watch that, you’d be as amused as me that the newspaper headlines are overdubbed in German.

I’m not going to go into great details, I already did that in THIS POST HERE. I will, however, share the pictures that accompanied my once-in-a-lifetime trip. (Full disclosure: I hope this isn’t once in a lifetime, but it’s certainly not gonna happen again next year, even if they make the series again. I’m broke as our electoral system.)

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On our way to Dennys before the game. Jay got a salad. I ordered the seasonal Thanksgiving dinner. This is the first proof that, in any picture we are both in, one of us is not capable of looking good.
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The one and only Jaymar posing before the field. The sign may say Progressive, but it’ll always be The Jake to me.
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Entering the stadium from center field. I agree with Jay, that does seem weird.
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A view from our seats. That is: a fish-eye view from our seats before I realized that my camera inexplicably has a fish-eye setting.
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A better view from our seats. And further proof that, like Highlander, there can be only one (that looks good in a picture of us both).
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We were close enough to see John Adams banging away on his drum. Well, to be more precise, my camera has a good enough zoom lens that… you get the point.
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The unfurling of the obligatory huge flag. “Gets me every time,” says Jaymar.
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Pre-game fireworks. SPOILER ALERT: more of that to come.
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The retiring of 455, the number of consecutive sellout games. In 3926, Sicnarf Loopstok the 95th will be very upset that he can’t pick his high school number of 455.
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First pitch. Like this was ACTUALLY the first pitch of the World Series.
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Frankie Lindor doing what he does best. Smiling. And stealing 2nd base. But mostly smiling. Why? Probably because he knew he was going to win a Gold Glove in his first full season in the majors! Booyah!
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I can’t believe I actually got this on film. It was the massive 30′ dinker that Ramirez hit that opened the scoring of the World series. Given that we were probably at least 250′ away, that makes this shot even luckier.
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I like Nap and love what he did for this team. The Party at Napoli shirts are awesome. That being said, this is what he did an awful lot of in his last two months at the plate. Steeeee-rike.
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Okay, I know this isn’t the at-bat where I famously called Brandon Guyer getting a HBP RBI on an 0-2 count. But screw that, on the very next pitch I PREDICTED HE WOULD GET HIT BY A PITCH TO SCORE A RUN!
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Remember what I said about our inability to both look good in the same picture?
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Napoli proving me wrong with some solid contact. Still an out, but solid contact. I do genuinely hope we can resign him next year. Just not at $17m.
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Mid-game fireworks, these coming after Roberto Perez’ first of TWO homers of the night. It was a career game.
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Proof that Perez can trot.
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The score after Perez’ dinger.
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Slider hugging Santa. Because baseball, that’s why. The Indians scored 3 more times this game, and I somehow attribute it to this action.
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Cody Allen throwing a white cylinder at the Cubs. He fared well this day. As did the Indians.
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Post-game fireworks: the trifecta.
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Post-game glee. Jay’s thumbs up was for the game, his grimace was for my photo-while-walking skills.
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Our glee evaporated when we waited on line for about an hour to go up the only escalator.

All in all, this was a day to remember. Major thanks again to Jaymar and to Ashley who made this happen! We didn’t win it all (came within one run) but it was an epic game and one of the all-time great World Series.

The Indians did steal one thing from the Cubs. We’re now the team who gets to say “There’s always next year.”

Chianti #3 – Fontella 2015

It has been seven years since my last fake wine review column, but I figure it’s high time I start it up again, mainly because the last year or so has given me plenty of ammunition to drink heavily. So here goes.

One doesn’t oft think of a wine as being “aged” with a label date of 2015. I use the term aged to describe this wine because it’s been sitting in my kitchen for a few hours since I purchased it on clearance to use as the celebratory wine after the Indians won their first World Series championship in almost 70 years. So really, this wine is aged with 70 years of expectations and hopes. And how does it hold up?

It is a full-bodied wine, and yes, I’m calling this wine fat. The dark mulberry hue of the liquor reminds me of the blood pouring from Trevor Bauer’s hand early in the postseason which perhaps cost the Indians at least one critical win. The label is blue, like my mood.

One can’t help but notice the unmistakable aroma upon loosing the cork, that of disappointment. A gentle swirl of the glass, something taught to me by watching movies of pretentious people, proves to do nothing to alter this overwhelming assault on the olfactory nerves. The first taste, like that of most chiantis, is bold and effluvient (which I realize, after a quick google search, means partially treated sewage water and, while not the most accurate description of this otherwise drinkable wine, I’m keeping in because it’s been that kind of day). The palette would be wise to savor the initial burst of flavor, with its hints of heartache, shattered dreams, and plum.

Really, though, the joy of this wine is not in the savoring, but in the drinking of it as quickly as is reasonably safe. This achieves two important things: 1) forgetting the events that preceded it in the last hour or so, and 2) it won’t let the robust aftertaste of pine tar and failure overwhelm the taste buds.

This is, without a doubt, a wine that will probably be even better next year, when it will have matured as a cohesive unit, and when it won’t have lost two of it’s three top starting pitchers to injury in the penultimate month of the season.

Rating: 6/10. Drinkable, but hopefully forgettable.

 

Post WS wrap-up

This blog will have no pictures because I have to get home, defrag, and upload some pictures, so that blog will hopefully roll out in the next few days. But until then, some notes on the WORLD SERIES:

  • Our seats were pretty amazing. Front row of the upper deck, halfway between 3rd base and the foul pole. Perfect view of the entire stadium and we got a firsthand look at Perez’ TWO home runs. Plus, with my extra-zoomy camera, I was able to snap pictures of individual players batting. I couldn’t have asked for better seats.
  • The weather – I was truly worried about 50 degrees with wind, but up until about the 8th inning it was downright pleasant. Somehow, even tho the temperature only dropped 2 degrees, it did get chilly at the end. But considering as I was walking into the airport today I saw SNOWFLAKES, I can’t really complain one iota about the weather. It was a perfect night for baseball.
  • Jaymar and I had a sort of contest to predict what the most random jersey we’d see would be. I thought maybe a Paul Byrd or Russell Branyan. I forget Jay’s prediction (it wasn’t Hershiser but it was someone like that). We saw someone rockin’ a Jensen Lewis jersey. That took the cake. Although I realize now we also saw a Joe Smith jersey, which is oddly apropros because he was part of the Bullpen Mafia in the Indians and is currently a member of the Cubs. Oh, and you should definitely click that link and watch that video from the so-bad-its-good vault.
  • The game itself was fantastic and was about as good a start as you could hope for. A dominant start by Kluber (6+ scoreless ball, breaking a record for most strikeouts in the first three innings – 8), scoreless relief from Miller, shutdown by Allen, and 10 hits (8 of which were by Lindor, Ramirez, and the newly crowned stud Perez). It was the sort of declarative statement I think we needed.
  • Speaking of which, the Indians were the definitive underdog in the Red Sox series, which we swept. We were the clear underdogs in Toronto before advancing after winning 4 and only losing one. Now we’re probably the biggest underdogs yet we shut down the  best offense in the majors and chipped away at their great staff. You really don’t hear about overdogs enough, but I like flying under the radar. I think it’s making teams too complacent. We’re sneaky good.
  • I put in more steps than I had in the previous week combined, and most of that was looking for a single place to get booze that wasn’t beer. I eventually found a place that served watered down screwdrivers (she was going to make it with GIN! ughhh) but it was just too much work to keep going back. Plus, it was fun being sober for the game – lots of screaming to be had.
  • I made a prediction that possibly rivals the Babe famously calling his home run. With the bases loaded and two outs, hit-by-pitch magnet Brandon Guyer steps up and gets himself into an 0-2. I turn to Jay and said “Okay, Guyer’s gonna get hit by a pitch here to score a run.” That’s an absurd prediction to make, given that a pitcher won’t throw anywhere near him on an 0-2 count. But Lester did on the next pitch, hitting him on the back of the leg. I can’t say anyone else made that prediction. Also, this exists. 😀

  • This really was a bucket list item. Will I go back to the Series if they make it next year, or in ten years, or fifty? I don’t know, probably not. It was something I wanted to make sure I could do once. If I do save up some money, I’d love to go back some day with the whole family to watch a WS game, but I made sure to grab the opportunity this year while it presented itself.
  • I don’t think I can adequately thank Jay & Ashley enough for making this trip happen. It’ll be something I remember forever, and I think I’m going to owe a few dozen footrubs in the coming weeks. And, I guess… more dinners at Dennys for Jaymar.
  • 3 MORE WINS TO GO!
  • Also, Jay and I are going to hopefully churn out a Dirty Dozen list out of this – Top 12 Things That Will Cause the Cubs to Lose Again This Year

Go Tribe! And go me! To Cleveland! To See the Tribe! Exclamation Points!!!

Since becoming an ardent fan of the Indians in the 80s (before I’d ever seen Major League, but probably after the movie came out), I’ve become a bigger and bigger fan over the years. I was raised a Mets fan and still like them and root for them (and even managed to watch all the World Series games last year), but I don’t have the total passion for the Metropolitans that I do for the Indians.

Which is something of a shame because the Indians name and logo are, well, an embarrassment that needs to be changed.

But I can’t help it, I’m an Indians fan. I started getting really into them in the mid 90s, and I was the only one in my freshman dorm rooting for them over the Yankers in ’97. My fandom exploded in the decade that followed. In fact, ever since 2007 when we were within one decently pitched game of the series, I’ve told myself that if they ever make the Series, I’m going to go out there to see a game. I’ve never seen a game at Progressive Field/The Jake (I did stop by once and buy a hat, but I was 2 hrs away at game time and it was supposed to rain that evening, so I didn’t go) and I’ve only seen them play once (in San Fran losing to the Giants in interleague play).

What’s more, now that my oldest son is an Indians fan, I’ve made the promise to myself that I’d take him when this happened.

So of course this year – 2016 – they’re in the Series. 2016, the year I lost my job and taken a new one at a mere slice of my old salary; 2016, when we have had to pay $8k in new flooring that was unexpected, and one that has just seen financial woes in general. So I was going to have to say “I guess next time.”

Until two people stepped in. Jaymar (he of the Dirty Dozen fame) is a true baseball fan, and although he supports the Red Sox first, he will use almost anything as an excuse to catch a game. He sends me this text saying if I’d go to Cleveland if he could pull some strings on tickets. Like WORLD SERIES tickets. The short answer is probably no, no I couldn’t afford even the airfare. And that’s when the second person came in.

Ashley (she of having really cool science clothes fame, among other things) heard the offer and said “GO!” I mean, there’s more to the conversation, about how to pay for things, about how the Indians really need a new name, about gratitude, about priorities… but she didn’t second guess. She not only gave me her blessing, she made it possible.

Then I had to wait for my new job, who initially said no, but I managed to talk them into it as long as I basically miss no work – which means red-eye flights, working in the hotel, barely any sleep. The delay actually jacked up my flights $300, which is NOT cool, but this opportunity could very well not present itself again for many many years.

I regret that I can’t take my oldest son along – the baseball ticket alone for a 3rd person is apparently significantly more expensive than just a pair, and then tack on another $800 in airfare, it just isn’t possible this year. Hopefully a warm Chief Wahoo-less hoodie for him and a stuffed animal for his brother will make up for it. I guess I have to start saving in case the Indians have sustained success and find themselves back here in the coming years.

Either way, I doubt I’ll be able to live-tweet or live-blog any of this as I’ll be working most of the short trip, and it’ll be windy and in the 40s for the game so I doubt I’ll be able to feel my fingers, but I’ll try to post pictures and wrap up afterwards.

So go Jay! Go Ashley! Go Cleveland baseball team (naughty language alert on that link)!

Note, these pictures are 2.5 years old.
Note, these pictures are 2.5 years old.
Try to ignore the racist imagery, try to focus on the message.
Try to ignore the racist imagery, try to focus on the cuteness.

Day 250 (really day 252): Rounding Down

In last season’s great cliffhanger, which is now amazingly over 100 days old, I caught everyone up to date about my mouth, and how I’d just had another procedure to fix my mouth’s inability to open fully. I’d managed to get up to 22mm after a number of visits to the physical therapist. Bear in mind that my goal is around 38mm. “Average” for an adult is around 50mm (with an acceptable range of 34-70mm), so 38mm seems like a pretty good goal for me to shoot for (I never measured my aperture before my surgery, but I don’t imagine I ever could open 50mm – I’m just not a wide-open-mouth kinda guy). So yeah, 38-40mm is my goal.

I ended up going to PT about a dozen times and then I had a month off. I went back to her for a one-off followup appointment. Now here’s my admission – I hardly did any of my exercises during that month. I would conscientiously move my jaw back and forth on a daily basis, but no rigid exercises. So when I went back, I was pretty sure I was going to regress.

But when all was said and done, I was surprisingly at 27mm. So clearly my jaw is righting itself, just on a much slower timescale than most jaws. It’s kinda like the A’s every year. Yeah they always start off a disappointment, but somehow by August they’re playing catchup. Please ignore the A’s current season as an outlier. See instead the 2016 Astros: still out of the wild card, but pretty close after a miserable April.

So there, now that’s I’ve gotten the baseball fanatics on board, what’s happened since then? Well, I continue to not really do any structured exercise regimen, opting instead to just be aware of my opening all day and trying to move it around when I think of it.

I went back to my ortho who saw me talking and commented about how it looks like I’m doing better. I don’t *feel* any different, but he swore I was. He wanted to measure me. I guessed 28mm.

It was 35mm. 35! It’s funny how I don’t feel like I’ve made any progress, but there has been some:

  • The joint in my left jaw pops pretty often now, and it’s a pretty significant pop. I can basically feel the condyle shifting into place. The right side isn’t doing that (though I wish it would) but it IS having some very minor pops when I open-and-shift or when I yawn.
  • I still can’t make my jaw go left very much (probably only a couple of millimeters) but before I couldn’t do it at ALL. Similarly, when I open very wide, my jaw still protrudes to the right, but not as badly as before.
  • I can eat a burger. It isn’t pretty and sometimes I have to sort of angle it to get it all in, but I can at least eat a burger. That really was my true goal.

I still need a followup with my surgeon, but since he’s retired, he’s not the simplest man to schedule an appointment with.

I’m not 100%, but this is the closest I’ve been in 2016.

BURGER GOES HERE!
BURGER GOES HERE!

Now on to back surgery!

My favorite blog posts

I am in the process of composing a couple of longer blog posts (an update about my jaw and a longer, introspective blog post about me – I’m sure everyone is having trouble containing themselves), but while I wait, I wanted to just round up some of my favorite blog posts in one place. In essence, this is the perfect blog post for anyone trapped at work on Thursday and looking for something with no real pictures to dig into.

My Arduous Path to Feminism – 1/20/2016 – The title is pretty self-explanatory. This one is by far my most popular blog post, and while I can’t in truth say it’s gone viral, it’s been shared around quite a bit. It’s a look at how I turned from someone who was pretty angry towards women (and totally denying that at the time) to someone who considers himself an ambassador for women’s rights and equality. This one HAS pictures – ooh!

My Coming-Out Post (about Atheism) – 8/2/2012 – Although I now readily and easily consider myself an atheist, I didn’t always. It was another slow and arduous path to get there. This one goes back a ways – all the way to my childhood. One of my most commented-on posts.

Gender Roles (specifically in respect to one of my sons) – 8/5/2013 – Of all my posts, this is the one that probably deserves a follow-up, yet it’s becoming more about some personality issues that a growing boy now has, so I’m likely just going to keep it offline. However, this was another powerful transformative time for me, when I realized that “boys will be boys” is a stupid and damaging phrase.

Tribute to Gavman – 7/6/2012 – From my son to another’s, I wrote this blog after coming home from the funeral of my good friends’ 1-year-old. Sure, the trip (and all its problems) was a learning opportunity for me, but when I got home I wanted nothing more than to remember the little boy who touched more people in his year+ than most people do in a lifetime.

Why Do I Write – 2/23/2016 – This is the first of two old blogs that will actually have something to do with the upcoming introspective blog I’m working on. It’s also pretty self-explanatory by the title.

On Not Being the Best – 9/18/2014 – And this is the other.

Mountain Goats Lyrics – 5/19/2011 – I bet you’ll never guess what this blog was about.

My Life in Summary: 1998-2012 – 8/10/2012 – Reconnecting with an old friend, I decided to catch her up on my life from when we lost contact after high school to present. With an absurd, self-imposed word count. I might just update this one. (I did recently get to have lunch with her, my first time seeing her since we went to prom together in 1997 – ahhh, the wonders of the internet).

FBA: Looking Busy at Work – 5/20/2010 – Not *technically* a blog post, this is one of my favorite Fats’ Bad Advice columns. Which reminds me, I should write more of those. Anyone have a question? Submit it here!

22nd Annual Tahoe Pro/Am

I’ve developed a love-hate relationship with Bijou, just like the one I have for Truckee. I don’t really care for either course that much (certainly when put against the other Tahoe courses), but I tend to play them well. Case in point, my last two 1000+ rated rounds were both at King of the Lake, both at Bijou, and one of my other 12 1000-rated rounds is at Truckee. The courses are generally deuce-or-die courses, though, and even with that there are still holes at both courses that make me scratch my head.

It’s actually because of my dislike of the course that I haven’t played in the Tahoe Pro/Am since 2013, where I came in 12th out of sixteen (shooting -11, 27 off the leader). How’d it go here, fresh off an unofficial 1000-rated round 2 weeks ago at KotL?

ROUND 1

It was set up pretty short, but not as stupidly short as in the past. There were still a handful of difficult holes, but probably 18 birdie-able holes out there. And I started on the easiest stretch of holes, parring like a mofo. To be fair, my first three drives were all excellent and all three got TERRIBLE breaks. Through my first 12 holes, I was -1 with no bogeys. That’s right. One birdie in my first 12. That WOULD NOT DO. And so it continued. After deucing hole 7, my next birdie wasn’t until hole 14 (one of the tougher holes), and then again on hole 21 (also one of the tougher holes). So through 20 holes – I started on 2 – I was a pretty bland -3. But remarkably, other than a bad drive on hole 10, I really was never in danger of bogeying. All of my drives were 35-60′ away. Like just about all of them.

In fact, the way it would end up was that I had 5 birdies, including 2 of my last 3, no bogeys, and I never missed a single putt within the 33′ circle. That’s because at least 18 of my other drives were within 35-60′. And I only made one of them (and it was really the only danger I had the whole round, my only near-bogey).

The round was ho-hum and I expected it to be around my rating, only when the ratings came in, everyone got crushed (by the 27-hole format and by the fact that low-rated course locals shot the course really well). The bad news was it was an unfair 945-rated round. The good news was somehow I was still in the hunt, in 6th place of 14.

ROUND 2 

They changed 7 holes, some of them easier, some harder. I’d say all in all the course played maybe 1 stroke harder the 2nd round.

I started by just going full throttle. Starting again on 2, I birdied holes 3, 4, 7, 8, 10 & 11. Six down after only 10 holes is a pretty hot start. From there, I would find the round followed the first round pretty closely. All my drives were pretty danger-free, but I found myself 35-50′ away on most putts, and I only made two of them (missing 2 or 3 in the circle). It was another danger-free round – and it would end up being another bogey-free round – but I had trouble getting the birdies after my hot start. Still, I finished up at a pretty impressive -10 (only one stroke off the hot score for the day). It wasn’t quite thousand-rated, and that’s for the exact same reasons as the first round.

What’s more, the two 1000-rated rounds I shot at the past Kings of the Lake? They were -7s on pretty comparable layouts. This was a -10 with no bogeys, but because the field was weaker, the ratings were pretty lousy. Ratings, though a noble effort, are a truly imperfect science.

So after the first day, my body was beat up but I found myself on top card against a medium pro field. I was pretty pleased.

ROUND 3

They moved 11 more baskets so the course was harder, but maybe only 4 strokes harder than the 2nd round (and par was 3 strokes higher). Which plays to my strengths – I play better on the holes where you have to get your tough pars, rather than the must-getting of easy deuces.

By now I’d played 54 birdie-free holes and I was starting on the easiest 9 holes (the leader would end up going -8 on them). I started going 2 3 3 2 3 (par 4) 3 3 2 3 on the front nine. While I lost 4 on the leader, I was happy with a -4 there.

It was on hole 6 when my back started tweaking. I guess good health couldn’t last forever. On hole 10 I just missed my line and kicked off a tree out of bounds, my first bogey. Well, not really, as I ended up double-bogeying the hole. I followed it up with a park-job birdie, so good there. But then another bogey on a missed 25′ putt. Uh oh. If my in-the-circle putts started to fail me, I would be in trouble as I was having a tough time off some of the tees.

I sort of righted the ship a little in the middle 9 holes, parring out mostly. Then around hole 19, the putting wheels came off.

19 – great drive, 22′ birdie putt, missed it.

20 – great drive, 25′ birdie putt, missed it.

21 – short drive, mediocre up, hit a tricky 20′ straddle putt around a large tree.

22 – decent drive, 40′ birdie putt, missed it.

23 – good drive, 33′ birdie putt, missed it.

24 – bad drive (kicked off a guardian tree that I’d missed the last bunch of times playing the hole), only an okay upshot, missed 40′ putt.

25 – Just missed my line, kicked off a tree. Very bad upshot. Missed 20′ par putt.

26 – Excellent drive (though I was told the basket was in a different position, so I parked that extremely tough position but was 40′ long for the actual birdie) – missed the putt.

27 – Good drive with an unfortunate skip that put me 40′ away, missed putt.

That put me at a -3, though with just being able to hit my putts, I would have had an incredibly hot round of -11. The worst part is I hit metal on every putt, no airballs. I try not to blame my back, but I can’t ignore the fact that every putt I missed was either low, left, or both. That’s a clear sign of me not extending and/or following through with my putts.

I was sure I’d played myself out of the cash, but somehow I still managed to come in 5th out of 14 (they paid 6), so it’s my second cash in a row. The name of this weekend was “so close”. I’d say on the weekend I had more than 30 putts between 35-60′, and I think I made 4 of them. Up until my collapse at the end, my short-range putting was clutch, and I made hardly any errors all weekend (2 bogeys and a double bogey out of 81 holes, that’s it). So close to glory (if I made just 1/3rd of those putts, I’d have finished in 2nd and more than doubled my cash).

The third round was also below my rating (but somehow rated higher than my -5 bogey-free first round – go figure). But I’ve now cashed in 3 of the 5 events I’ve played this year. It’s nice to see, considering my back issues (which I go for a shot for tomorrow) and my very limited practice schedule.

As a postscript, during King of the Lake, I came in 17th, but had I been in the masters field, I would have taken 3rd place (a difference of $150). In this tournament, I came in 5th in pro, and would have come in merely 4th (a difference of only $5). So not quite as frustrating there.

King of the Lake – Final Day

I’ve been making a whole lot of comparisons to last year’s King of the Lake, where I started hot but then fizzled in a pretty remarkable way. But after four rounds played, this year’s iteration seemed a whole lot closer to 2014’s version. That year I was pretty close to the cash line with one round at Tahoe Vista left to play. And this year, that’s pretty much where I was (15th of 55, only two strokes “in the cash” at the start of the round). So really, it’s a better comparison to 2014, when I managed to cash in a pretty thick field.

Last night was the third night in a row I couldn’t sleep (I tossed and turned for 2 hours) at which point Ash suggested I sleep in the guest bed at my in-laws, a lumpy bed in a hot room. I initially declined but then gave in. And I think I fell asleep in 5 minutes and slept most of the night through. FINALLY, a good night’s sleep.

I woke up stiff and sore, but had an anti-inflammatory AND a painkiller and stretched everything I could think of stretching. By the time my round started, I was actually feeling… pretty good? Certainly not pain-free, but better than any of the prior 4 rounds. Let’s get to it.

ROUND 5 – TAHOE VISTA

Two years ago, I knew I just had to throw a pretty good round to stay in the cash, and I answered that task by throwing a +1 through 14 holes (NOT a good start) but hitting my last 4 birdies to end up at a quite serviceable 55. I was in the same place to start today, but they threw us a curveball by having us start on hole 10, not 1. That means the easier birdie holes would be in the first half (along with the massive 1000+ foot par 5 hole 18). These were the holes that saved my butt two years ago. Today?

I started with an easy par and a DROP IN birdie on the pretty tricky hole 11. On thirteen, the hardest hole on the course, I had a great drive but a STUPID upshot and took a bogey. Then came 16-18, three of the four I’d birdied two years ago to clinch my cash spot. Today, I nailed them all again (16 was a 20′ putt after a near-ace, 17 was a thumber to a 20′ putt, and 18 was a 30′ windy putt to get my birdie four). So with half the course done, I was -3 and looking good (beating my card by a few strokes).

Holes 1-6 aren’t gimmies, but I should be able to end up -1 or -2 through them. Turns out, no. 6  boring pars. No real chances for birdie, no real danger for bogey either. So all I had to do was maintain to end up with my 55. If I could just manage one birdie in that stretch, I’d end with a pretty hot 54.

And that’s the problem. I started saying “if I could just manage…” instead of executing each shot as it came along. After a 30-minute wait on hole 7, I throw a GREAT drive but a pretty bad up-shot, leaving me a 50′ flick upshot on a tricky hill to set up my par. Except I decide to throw my flick about 90′ instead. Then, when going to get my disc, I slip on the hay and totally CRASH HARD on my back. It had been feeling good the whole round, but after that, it was back to all wonked out. It really sucked (and so did bogeying that hole). Hole 8 is a should-get birdie. I threw a very good drive that just flipped up a hair in the headwind and left me with a 30′ putt. I missed it. The final hole was SO CLOSE to the right line, instead I clipped a branch and then failed miserably on my next shot. I bogey the last hole.

So after the long wait (and after the failed upshot, and after the big fall), I go +2 on the last two. I lost 6 strokes to one of my cardmates in the last 6 holes, who shot the hot round of our group and only beat me by 3. Did I play myself out of the cash?

No I didn’t. I came in tied for 17th out of 55. This round was a little closer to my normal style of play. My forehands finally came back to earth (and were actually pretty poor other than a spectacular upshot on my other nemesis hole – hole 3). My putts were decent – I don’t think I missed anything within 25′. But the problem was nearly all my birdie putts were 30-50′. I made one putt that distance all day (and it was a par save). Nearly all my putts were low, though. That’s the sign of a tired body.

All in all, I was very happy with my performance, though I was always a couple of factors away from really putting it all together. However, when I look at my score, it was 4 strokes better than in 2014, which one of my best tourneys ever. I averaged over 976 in terms of ratings, and that was with some pretty sloppy play throughout (round 1 featured MISERABLE putting, rounds 3 and 4 were lousy drives, and round 5 my ups and forehands fell apart). And ALL of this is with the ailingest back/body I’ve ever had in a tournament.

Final fun fact #1: If I were masters age (2 years!) I would have come in 3rd. THIRD!

Fun fact #2: I appear to be the San Francisco Giants of King of the Lake. I play really well there in even years only.

2008: Came in tied for third (out of 14), lost the playoff.

2010: I was near the cash line with my final round yet to play and I injured my throwing arm halfway through the round. I finished the round throwing 150′ drives (or lefty) at a 878 rated round. I was out of the cash by 20 strokes, but I probably gave up close to that due to injury.

2012: KotL didn’t happen.

2014: Cashed as an A-Tier.

2016: Cashed as an A-Tier.

In odd years? I tied for last-cash once, but otherwise have fared pretty poorly.

GO ME!

King of the Lake – Day 2

You’ll remember from yesterday’s post that last year at the same time, I was in a similar favorable position until round 3, at Sierra College, where I threw a personal worst (63) followed by a serviceable but unimpressive 50 at Truckee. This year, we were going to flip the schedule.

As has been the case for the past two years, I had trouble sleeping last night, though I did get maybe 4 hours (up from 2 the night before). And when I got to the course, my body was just. not. having. it. My glute (which had started bothering me yesterday) was super tight. I had trouble with release points. My putt never quite felt solid. Fortunately, Truckee Regional is the course for that, as it’s a very short birdie-fest, about all my back and butt felt up for.

ROUND 3 – TRUCKEE

I tend to shoot Truckee well, despite not liking it much. Go figure. I start out on hole four, a tough but gettable birdie, and throw is super short (my body not working again). I throw the “safe” up shot – the hole is on a MASSIVE hill – and it lands a little hot, catches an edge, and rolls 40′ down the hill with no putt. I take a bogey (my 2nd of 3 rounds to start with a bogey). Two holes later I birdie, then I miss the EASIEST HOLE EVER (which I miss ALMOST EVERY TIME). Angry from that, I get four birds in a row, including one of the hardest holes at Truckee, hole 11, which I managed to put 5′ away.

Two holes later, I give one back on a terrible up shot and missed putt. The end of the round was definitely a place I could get some more birdies, but unfortunately it wasn’t to be, only carding one more. I finish at 49, one better than last year (though the conditions were windier this year). And at this point, I starting to freak out because everything is basically still the same as last year when I FELL APART at Sierra College. Would I repeat?

ROUND 4 – SIERRA COLLEGE

I started on 4 which was the hole that basically started my downward spiral last year (I took a five on it). I TOTALLY NAIL the gap and leave myself an unimpeded 100′ up shot to get my par. Except no, I decide to throw a terrible up shot and miss the putt. 3rd round out of 4 to start with a bogey. Then on the fun downhill hole 5, I misthrow my drive by a little and have a basically unmakeable 45 footer, but an easy three. I throw the “safe” shot to about 10′ from the pin, hit a tree, and it rolls back 25 feet (maybe 10 feet closer than the previous putt).

Remember how yesterday on the 2nd hole of my second round, I missed a dinker and shouted at myself “I will NOT let this happen today”? I said that to myself, out loud, as soon as that disc rolled back. I would NOT implode like I did last year. And I banged the 35′ with a straddle putt.

I want to take a moment to say that, in my life, I throw probably less than 5% forehand (flick) throws, and basically only straddle putt when I have to. Today? I straddled as my default and just about every forehand was perfect or at least exactly where I aimed it. Who knew I can now rely on that?

Back to hole 6. I take a par on the difficult par 4 (featuring a VERY slick forehand with a QSentinel), then four the next difficult par 4 (had what I thought was a great flick hit the last obstacle and leave me a 50′ uphill putt, which I nearly made). Then we start BIRDIE row.

Hole 8 – I left myself a 20′ putt for birdie. I airballed it. I say out loud to myself: I will NOT let this happen today.

Hole 9 – Horrible horrible drive. SICK 150+’ flick shot to put me within 20. Made the putt.

Hole 10 – Horrible drive. Really amazing up shot considering where I was. I MISS the 20′ putt (though it did hit center chains, just too high). That’s IT. NO MORE TODAY. I WILL NOT F’N LET THIS HAPPEN ANYMORE!

(By this time, I’m +4 to ironman par, or +2 to course par, which is putting me dangerously close to where I ended up last year. My drives were erratic, but I was saving like a mofo. Maybe I could still pull it together.)

Hole 11 – Miss my line by less than a foot, up and down par.

Hole 12 – Throw a flick just a touch early, SUPER death putt, lay up, par.

Hole 13 – This is a silly hole, and people always say that there’s a flick line (which I’ve never tried in a tourney). But hey, flick’s working, so let’s do it. BAM! Hit the line, leave myself a 20′ putt. Hit it. YES!

Hole 14 – A very good drive, 20′ putt, hit it. YES!

Hole 15 – A tweener par 4, but one I so rarely birdie. VERY good drive, perfect up shot, drop in birdie. 2nd turkey of the day.

Hole 16 – TOUGH par 3, throw my drive within 50, though my putt is obstructed. Give it a run, just miss, it ROLLS 18′ away. Make the putt.

Hole 17 – I hit first available tree 100′ down the fairway. I then throw a pretty lousy up shot that leaves me a 40′ putt. NOT TODAY! BAM! Hit it.

Hole 18 – This hole can suck my monkey. I am not sure exactly of the exact #s, but I think the last 10+ tournament rounds, I’ve 4’d this very doable par 3, or worse, usually by yanking my drive into the trees on the right and not having anything. I walk up saying out loud to myself and to my group “I’m going to hit this gap!” Then I threw, and while the disc was in mid-air, said “No I’m not”. I hit the trees on the right and it ricochets across the fairway to the left side. I’m left with a 250+ up shot with a manageable but difficult gap. NOT FUCKING TODAY! I WILL NOT BOGEY THIS HOLE TODAY! I throw a SICK upshot and it skips to about 18 feet away. I hit it. UP YOURS HOLE 18!

Hole 1 – A gimmie birdie. I JUST miss the line, clip the last guardian tree (would have been an ace run without that), leaving me a 45 footer. I just miss.

Hole 2 – Throw what I think is the perfect flick, but my drone catches some headwind, flips straight, and I smack the last guardian. I’m left with a tricky 100′ flick shot, which I execute pretty damn well. Save par.

Hole 3 – The easiest par 4 on the course, I throw a pretty solid drive but get an unfortunate kick. I throw a pretty great up but again clip the last guardian, leaving a 40 severely uphill putt. I just miss.

So while I was on pace for another 60+ round, I managed – through simple willpower alone – to salvage a 57. While not much above my rating, this was just an example of me playing without my best stuff. Or even mediocre stuff. I willed myself to succeed. And I did, more or less, just dropping a few spots in the cards.

My body, however, is shot. Totally shot. My back is sore, my glute is on fire, my groin on the right side is starting to flare up (likely from compensating for the glute and the back), and I have no less than 3 blisters forming on both feet. I am really really really hoping for those injections I’m getting soon to work – I simply can’t continue playing when my body is so shot afterwards.

So where do I stand? I’m in a tie for 15th out of 55, with them paying the top 22. There are 9 guys within five strokes of me behind me (and one tied), and only 4 within five strokes the other way. So like 2 years ago (when I cashed) I need to maintain myself at Tahoe Vista to grab cash (which I did with a 55 that included birdieing my last 4 holes).

The question is: is my body up for the task?