On Tuesday, I decided I would press on with my new found golf confidence, and get an early morning round in with the usual chaps. Fresh off the back of a win last time out, I continued my new vein of good form, much to their consternation and managed to shoot an 80. This is my first ever single figure score over par(9 over), and could have been a good deal better had I not finished double bogey, bogey, double bogey. The trouble with playing like this, is that the handicap police are out in force and they try as hard as they can to get strokes off you next time out. I wish I could say I finished weakly intentionally to keep these fellows interested, but alas, I did not.
Anyway, moving on, after golf I returned to Commerce at 3pm to play the $1k tournament which had 61 players. Now, I was a little concerned prior to entering about the early wake up and a late finish but I spoke to my good friend Matt Savage, who is without doubt the best tournament director in the world, and he assured me that day 1 would be finished by 2 am at the latest.
I was sitting comfortably second in chips with 10 players left, as we went down to the final table and it was 12.30 am. Ooooh thinks Lord F, great, this will be wrapped up inside an hour and I can have a good nights sleep and come back tomorrow to try and buffer the coffers with a few more Greenbacks. A wise man once told me, 'assumptions are dangerous things to make, like bombs' (Earl Seden of Botley).
The three short stacked players all doubled up against the odds. In fact every single incident that occurred, happened at a less than a 30% likelihood for the following 4 hrs. The long and the short of it was that at 5.45 am I was the 8th man out, and for my 15 hours of play I earned exactly $0.
I was fairly miffed to say the least, and the icing on the cake was that having been up for 24 hrs and being tired beyond belief, I now had to drive home in morning rush hour traffic, which took me forty minutes longer than it should have.
I decided Wednesday would be a day of rest and recuperation. I decided to venture out and invest in a pipe, and some wonderfully flavoured cherry tobacco. It did have a very calming influence on my mood, although on the flip side, according to Lady F the pungent aroma's did get stuck in the whiskers. With pipe in mouth and the good Lady in hand, to the beach we headed. The waves crashing, the blue sky, a fine smoke and a good Lady on your arm, melted away the angst. After a wonderful stroll we filled our bellies with Boeuf Wellington washed down with a fine Malbec at a marvellous English establishment, just what the doctor ordered.
Finally I was able to start considering the lessons learnt from the previous days shenanigans. It was foolish of me to get up at the crack of dawn and play golf with the 'chance' of a late finish, however again it was another deep run in a very competitive field. My glass will always be half full dear readers, mind you as I clambered into my bed I noticed black tar all over my feet. I must have managed to find the only two hidden patches of bitumen on the beach, and the stuff doesn't bloody well come off. (was nice having Lady F scrub my feet for an hour or so as I drifted off, that's how we Lords roll)
puff
Lord F
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