Monarch Bay Golf Club -- Dan's 30th Bday - 1/26/09

The wind blew, oh how it blew.

And despite the Old Bears' second group having nearly consumed a 30-pack by hole number 7, they played on through the blustery torrents of driving rain, ubiquitous goose shit and impossible to read greens where the ball seemed to ebbed and flow to its own natural rhythm, mirroring the crooked trajectory of a tee shot blown seventy-odd yards to the left or right by the howling wind, only to fall and lay asunder while the confounded (and drunk) Bears searched hopelessly through thick, matty clumps of grass and weeds, almost always to no avail and almost always without a care for the Old Bears, skilled though they may be, depart wives, girlfriends and masters of fins for the wide fairways and oddly placed pot bunkers of the Bay Area's finest (and cheapest) golfing establishments for one reason, and one reason only: Vanquishing our foes, those foes being the sloth and complacency so common as once great athletes, legendary conquerors of Midwest sorority sluts and dudes who are totally OK living with their parents at age 26 slide down the slippery slope of middle age. But we, the Old Bears, battle on, steadfast in our belief that beer, pot, golf and good friends (in that order) will always overcome our fears of becoming old and boring and almost always stem our steadily retreating hairlines, forestalling the inevitable in a puff, a sip, a chip.


Amen.

Palo Alto Municipal

The round began with beer. The crisp feeling was palpable. We all hit perfect shots until the beer ran out. Then, Deerboy got the shakes. For a moment, things looked grim. But we found some badwater in a puddle down the left side of number 12. Deerboy knelt beside the puddle, drank heartily, and returned to his smooth self. 

Eagle opportunities were in legion. Ryan reached the par 5 12th and Kevin reached the par 5 15th. The eagle putts didn't fall, but at least the holes got their kneecaps dirty. 

Shots were made, and the thing is, that was expected. You can't really discount a driving iron from 235 yards to set up an uphill eagle opportunity. 

Things got really weird on 18, when Deerboy sliced with such force that he actually disappeared for a good portion of the hole. Considering the landscape is flat and treeless, his venture beyond the visible horizon caused immediate concern. Yet he came swiftly back to a greenside bunker and got up and down for what could only be considered "a good bogey."

Scores:

Kevin 71

Jason 76

Ryan 92

Deerboy 134

Golf at Roddy Ranch

Well, it was one of those wintry Bay Area days, the kind that make you actually have to put on a jacket and even consider putting on pants - the kind of day that forced Harl to make a purchase - a purchase that very well may have saved his life, and his golf game. On December 12, 2008 Dan, Kev, Deerboy, and Harl ventured into uncharted territory, visiting the never-before-seen city of Antioch, CA. A virtual ghost town, on the drive in billboards for new houses read, "Move in For $1." Other signs clearly explained that this was, and always will be, a drug-free community. I guess they weren't planning on the four of us rolling in.

The golf was amazing. The scores were almost as low as the temperature, and almost as high as the wind speed.

Scores: to be entered when score card has been defrosted

Deerboy ?
Kevin 75
Harl ?
Dan ?