Day Two
was a near disaster.We played like ass. It felt like my swing was likened to a one armed man trying to kill a snake in a phone booth. Nothing felt right with my clubs so I wasn't exactly a factor.
Our team was two strokes back from the leaders. Pretty tough to make ground up from that but we were going to try.
Or so we thought.
For 11 holes we sucked rotten goat balls. We were only one under par as we stood at a literal and figurative crossroads in our day. The three of us stood at the bottom of the hill, wondering exactly if we should go continue or if we should Withdraw (WD) and go home.
Our mitigating factors:
1. We were sucking. Nothing was going right for us.
2. It was warm. Not hot as in cook-eggs-on-the-sidewalk hot, but very humid. It wasn't the type of humidity that you just sweat buckets, but rather the type that you're always damp from sweating. No wind and we were walking this up and down course (mainly because we weren't going to pay $35 bucks for one cart.)
3. We had no beer.
We made an executive desicion to go ahead and stay and play despite not having any beer. Something clicked and we tore it up. Things went right as we went 6 under in the last three holes to finish the day at 7 under, 12 under for the tourney.
How did we finish?
One stroke out of the money. It's par for the course that we finish one stroke out of the money. The day our threesome actually wins money is the day when the world crashes to a halt.
posted by Rusty @ 1:10 PM
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