The Promised Monster I: A New Hope

I have absolutely no idea how idea how I'm going to fit all of this material into one post. There are so many worthy pictures that I want to include in this monster yet I can tell that my interest is not going to last long enough to actually include them all with or without words. In fact, there's so much I don't even know where to start. I know there are certain things that deserve their own separate entries but now that I'm sitting here and kinda willing to do it I might just go ahead and throw them in now. NO, I musn't. I musn't. Well we'll see I guess.

PART ONE: Getting the Golf out of the Way

Brother and I have tried to golf at least once every week and every now and then we'd be joined by some guests stars - my friend Mike, our uncle and cousin, and even once, brace yourselves - our father, who swore off playing years ago due to hatred of athletic activity. What's to follow are the highlightes of this summer's golf and I know that it's real risky on my part to start off with this seeing as how this could lose me 97% of the readers who actually still know this page exists, but oh well. I'll try my best to describe each picture and if there isn't a description it's because I thought it was a cool picture that you should see.

This first batch is from when MIke joined us. It was a rough day for me and when those days come around I get very easily frustrated and start losing my cool which I can never really hold onto for long anyway. Well, after I finally put a couple good holes together we came to the 14th hole at our home course, Jeffersonville (or The Jeff - if you're one of the cool kids). It was a short par 4 and I had a good drive and got onto the green in two shots leaving myself with a birdie putt of about 25 feet. Turns out, I completely blew the whole and wound up three putting which is something I rarely do because if I'm good at anything in golf it's putting. So, as I was walking off the green back to the cart I gently lobbed my fairly new putter up in the air towards a pine tree and said, "stay up there," to which the putter gladly obliged and caught itself up high in the branches. Even now I'm blaming the putter for staying in the tree after I blamed it for ruining my hole. If anyhting this lightened the mood cause Brother and Mike found it hilarious, and so did I, plus I didn't want that stupid club anymore. Anyway, here's the tree that my putter is still probably in as we speak:


If anybody out there wants a fairly new putter and is a good climber, just go to this tree and tell them El Duffo sent you. 


It's up and to the left if you stand where I took this picture. 

After that disaster we kept moving and the only other thing worth mentioning that on the 17th tee, some weird guy who was wandering the course with his dog came and watched us and cheered us on like we were professionals playing in the worst and lamest golf tournament. Normally the three of us can't play in front of people but we all did OK with that guy and his dog there, Mike especially who hit a bomb down the middle of the fairway after his extreme torque action that you can see in this picture (followed by a cool one of Brother on the 18th):


Mike on the 17th with his extreme torque. 

and Brother:


I don't think we ever found his ball, but I think the picture came out alright. 

About a month later we went down the shore to meet our uncle for what I like to call Golf Week where the three of us golfed three straight days and were joined by my dad on the third. I thought playing three days in a row would be the death of me but as it turns out I got much better as the rounds went on. We played 9 holes on the first day and on the second and third we played at a place called McCullough's Emerald Links which is 18 holes with each hole being designed specifically after a famous hole in England, Scotland or Ireland. Quite simply it is my most favorite course that I ever played and after shooting a 92 on the second day, I came out blazing with an 85 the next day which was my greatest round ever. The place was so authentic that we couldn't believe we were in South Jersey and not St. Andrew's or Carnoustie. Here are some pictures from those final 2 days of Golf Week:


The wind was so realistic (due to the lack of trees) that I was forced to wear a hat for the first time in a year. I know, it's not the biggest news, but this is the only proof that I was there since I took all the pictures. 


This is my Uncle Charles on the 1st which was designed after a hole in Northern Ireland. 


Brother may still be in this bunker right now. 


The bunker on the 13th is more like a beach. 


This is McCullough's 14th hole which is designed after the 14th at St. Andrew's where Tiger just won The Open two weeks ago. This is their version of the "Hell Bunker," which unfortunately we weren't able to get caught in either day. 


Here's Jackie Boy on the 16th which is designed after "The Postage Stamp" at Royal Troon in Scotland which is one of the most famous holes in golf. 


On the left side of this lake is the 18th, with the 8th on the right. At the bottom of the lake are the balls of many men. 

Believe it or not, putting this post together so far has taken over an hour. Since I'm tired and lazy, I'm gonna cut off this post here and call it Part One. I will wake up early and put up Part Two which will be pictures from the My Morning Jacket/Wilco concert from June 23rd. In no way will that be the final part of this post. We're looking at an Octrilogy here people.

To be continued . . . . . ?