My player is Kristy McPherson.
A bogey-free six under finished off the week. Finished T3!
The highlight was a great up and down from long left on eighteen (the result of a 115-yard shot going 135 from a flyer lie) to a tucked pin. Almost holed it.
After a quick lunch, I was off to the next event in the upper peninsula (that’s Michigan and home of the indigenous Yooper). Followed by a quick lunch of a hotdog, veggie pizza and macaroni salad in player hospitality, I was off.
I had a Priceline.com reservation at the Country Hearth Inn in Escanaba, which didn’t start until Monday, but after calling, they agreed to move it up a day. Perfect! The room was secured and the only piece of the puzzle remaining was the 474-mile drive.
The trip was fairly uneventful until the last forty miles. A wicked thunderstorm was pounding the area. The wipers were on high and the grip on the steering wheel tighter than usual. It was difficult to see the lane lines but then I remembered I had fog lights. What a difference it made.
Luckily, I was in the northbound lane as the southbound had a few small trees lying in the roadway.
I arrived just before eleven. It was an eight-hour trip and my butt never left the driver’s seat. Not one break and I really didn’t need one.
One thing though, I made it all the way on one tank of gas. I should have stopped in Marinette to fill up (40 cents a gallon cheaper) but “I was on a mission, from god”.
Personally, I think the hullabaloo over Phil stopping the ball is way overblown. Golf is a game, not a religion. Treating it as such is the real sacrilege.