Sunday Dec 10 Part III

Sunday Editon - Friday Results - Conclusion Sparky Mullins

Best wishes to Bill who has a second go at rotator cuff surgery this Wednesday. Can't wait for this spring when he and Rodney square off in long drive contest to see who is most bionic.

Friday Dec 8 Results

A Bakers Dozen teed up Friday with some very positive results. Eight of the 13 scored +2 or better to move their number up a notch. Glen's Medalist best +7 (38 points!) led the way, 1 better than Clint's +6. Glen's effort put's him in high company as he tied Leroy's effort just last month by winning all 5 days in a Monday through Friday week. In fact, Glen's take of the prize money was slightly higher than Leroy's. We will see if Glen can tie Leroy's mark of 6 wins in a row with another win on Monday.

Speaking of Monday, will Tom play cards or will he play golf? His CTP on Friday gives him 2-in-a-row. He will need to show on Monday to tie Floyd and Butch or possibly carry it to 4. I encourage all BB's available to come out and help protect the "Floyd".

The Golfing Journey of Sparky Mullins

                                       Chapter III

Sparky's whirlwind journey of golfing success finds him in a very posh hotel in New York. He is finishing up getting dressed. It was kind of funny, about the only thing Sparky remembers lately is his golf. He can't recall anything about work, friends, or daily life in general. He is only thinking about the task at hand. He will go downstairs to have a little breakfast before jumping on one of the shuttle buses taking him and his fellow golfing competitors to Bethpage Black, site of the biggest amateur golf tournament in northeast America. The winner of this prestigious event, besides fame and a big trophy, earns a spot in this year's U.S. Open. A ticket to play alongside the biggest names in golf!

Sparky had met many of the players the night before at the hotel during the registration and meet-and-greet party afterwards. Sparky was the talk of the tournament due to his sudden recent success. Most of the other players were well established and their ability was well known to each other. But this new guy, this 'Sparky' fellow, well everyone was very curious. Several made a point to introduce themselves, and wish Sparky good luck, just not too much.

Sparky smoothed out the brand new Footjoy polo as he gave himself a last look in the mirror. Hey, a good showing might attract some sponsorship for clubs, clothes, etc. You never know.

As he was on the second floor, Sparky skipped the elevator and just headed down the stairs to join the boisterous activity of players scurrying about in preparation for the big event.

Chills ran down Sparky's back as he reached the main floor, a horrified look on his face.

The lobby was completely empty.

He looks all around, not another soul in sight, with the exception of a single clerk behind the entrance counter.

He runs up to her and asks, "Where are all the golfers, where are the shuttle buses?"

She tilts her head slightly but doesn't utter a sound. A loud buzzing noise starts to blare. 

Sparky runs to the restaurant area. Completely empty. The buzzing seems louder.

He runs back to the clerk, "I have to get to the golf course, can you get me a car?"

She has turned away, not even acknowledging Sparky. The buzzing noise continues.

"My clubs!", Sparky remembers, "Where are my clubs?" In full panic mode, Sparky rushes through the front entrance into the blinding early morning sunshine. He has to close his eyes; it is so bright!

WHAT IS THAT BUZZING NOISE!!!!!!

Sparky opens his eyes in complete confusion. He is sweating profusely, his eyes staring at the ceiling in his apartment bedroom. The alarm clock reads Friday 6:08 a.m. He sits up, head spinning. His work clothes are laid out, ready for another workday. There is a note taped on his dresser mirror. It says, 'Saturday match play with Sandy Simon'. 

Are you kidding me? That could not have been a dream, it was TOO REAL.

I am an elite golfer, really, I have to be, I NEED to be!

Reality sets in, and Sparky realizes nothing has changed other than his desire to hit balls before work today. Then a thought occurs to him. This new swing he dreamt about was so real, he believes he can do it. The hesitation at the top, loading up his power, and the drive 'through' the ball. Yes, he can do this! Suddenly, he can't wait to get to the range!

Sparky sets the full bucket of balls down and grabs his 9-iron out of his bag. He takes a few practice swings that feel easy and very satisfying. Okay ball, get ready for a ride.

His backswing is flawless, his weight is perfectly balanced, the hesitation at the top, the swing through at impact and Sparky watches the ball soar....

into the trees on the right, out-of-bounds.

After several more failed attempts, Sparky realizes this new swing indeed increases his swing speed. What he cannot do, however, is square up the club at impact. Disgusted, he returns to his old reliable swing, his 9-iron falling around the 100-yd marker. His search for the secret of golf must wait for another day.

Sparky's quest is the same for about everyone I know who watches golf on TV. We would all love to have the swing speed of a Whiney McIlroy or a DeChambeau. Hit a 7-iron 225 yards. Or the ability of a Justin Thomas. He doesn't have the swing speed of his fellow pros, but what he does is bring everything he's got together at impact with such precision that the ball carries just as far. Though not likely, it's a dream we hope to find every time we tee it up. The saying at the beginning of today's blog mentions how bad we can play. That much is true but is also true that every time we tee it up could be the best round we have ever played. Dream on Bud's Boys.

Sparky is nearing the last of his range balls when he sees Clive Bixby struggling with his oversize golf bag filled with too many clubs approaching the range. Sparky lets out a sigh, at least he is about finished and won't have to listen to Clive blather on. Clive is actually a very likeable guy people don't mind being around. It's just that he is the clumsiest person, both physically and socially. He can drop or spill anything close at hand or say the wrong thing at any time without realizing it.

"Hey Sparky", Clive hollers during Sparky's backswing, "good luck tomorrow. I hear you got good ole Sandy Simon in match play."

Sparky watches his ball scull off to the right and turns to Clive.

"Thanks Clive, I'll do my best."

Sparky is down to his last ball when Clive knocks his bag over spilling clubs, balls, and other golf accessories everywhere. Clive's new Augusta National headcover rolls right up against Sparky's left foot. Sparky wants to kick it back but what the heck. It's his last ball and besides, it is a nice headcover, so he plays nice and just moves his left foot a little closer to his right foot. Closes his stance if you will, and swings. A shiver goes up his spine as he watches his 9-iron sail majestically past the 150-marker.

"Clive, toss me another ball."

                      The End

Thanks to my beautiful, smart, and patient wife for her support (tolerance?). It is done.