Afternoon at the TPC
My sister Betsy and I went to the TPC this afternoon. At the entrances, they had a looped recorded message that made it perfectly clear that you couldn't bring in cell phones, cameras, TVs, or radios. I thought it would be fun to wear my Garmin GPS watch and track where we walked around the course. The security guard and his assistant with the metal detector wand smelled blood when they saw me walking up to the entrance.
Guard: What is that?!? (pointing at the watch)
Me: A watch.
Guard: Is it a phone?
Me: No.
Assistant: Does it beep?
Me: No. (a little white lie)
This is what I wished I could have said:
Guard: What is that?!?
Me: A bomb! Praise Allah! Praise Allah!
Somehow, I think I would have missed the tournament. They also freaked out when they saw my circuit board business card case. I was expecting another game of 20 questions. Opening it up to show them real business cards sufficiently satisfied their curiosity. I bet the apes who danced around the obelisk at the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey were relatives of theirs.
We made our way to the course and walked around a bit. People watching at the 17th hole was very entertaining. Mini skirts, 2-inch heels and designer sunglasses are available in every golf course pro shop. We followed Jim Furyk and Davis Love III around some. Apparently, we left that group right before Davis carded a 9 on the 9th hole. When we saw him, on 4 and 5, the wheels were already coming off. At that point he was already 6 or 7 over for the round (he started off on the back nine for the day).
We ultimately ended up again at 17 and watched Phil Mickelson, Sergio Garcia and some others come through. No one plopped one in the water for us. We did have some lovely commentary at the 17th from what I'm sure are some recent transplants from the fine state of New Jersey. They really knew EVERYTHING.
All in all, a fun day at the TPC. I would like to see Jim Furyk hang on and win. We'll see.
