Tuesday, May 06, 2003


First and foremost, check out the new banner area where my Blog Title is. My friend Dave helped me spruce it up, and make it a lot more "me," whatever "me" is. Everyone should go check his blog out too, he's got a lot to say, and knows how to say it.

Now, on to the memories. I remember getting out of school early, and loading the clubs into Kurt's beat up 2-door Jeep. I remember driving to Dairy Queen and taking turns buying everyone Misty Freezies. I remember Greg, Geoff and myself all taking turns getting in trouble by Kurt for scratching obscenities into the decaying interior of that Jeep. I remember me driving the golf cart full speed backwards down the first hole and looking over and seeing the Ranger in his little cart, driving forwards and looking over at Greg and I and just shaking his head...how I explained that one is still beyond me. I recall hitting a guy for the first time ever on Hole 1. He was in our fairway and I hit him with a 3 bouncer to the leg. As Greg and I approached him, he got so mad that he said: "You son of a bitch, don't come one step closer, I'll kill you..." and held his club up as proof...he then proceeded to hit my ball that had hit him very far out of bounds. How mature. I remember on wet days riding in the cart and going down the hill of Hole 6 and hitting the brakes, spinning 360's all the way down. I distinctly remember rounding the turn going to that hole too fast with too many people hanging on, and having 3 of the 4 passengers fall off, along with their clubs. I remember going into the "19th Hole" after a round of 9 and getting beef jerky and a drink. I remember "JACKIE GARTZKA!!!!!!!" I remember winning a lot of free Pepsi during the lessons Greg, Kurt and I took, by sinking long putts. I will always remember Greg teaching me to golf. I can't stop remembering the fact that all through high school, Kurt used old-school wooden clubs, Greg's grandmoms, and all things considered, played damn well with them. I remember the laughter on the driving range. I remember playing with my Dad and standing in awe as he hit his drives, and laughing hysterically with Greg as he hit his second shot on the Par 5 9th, about 200 yards over the green, and into the parking lot...for those of you familiar, that is a LONG way. I remember the wedding golf tournament and a guy from across the course yelling "It's a lot easier to hit the ball if you put your purse down!" at my Dad after his drive. He was upset until he realized that it was our family friend. I remember all of us using range balls we stole on every hole that had water, "just in case." I recall all of the golf tryouts that we'd all go through for free golf, and then really hope we didn't make the team, so we didn't have to go to the tourneys. I remember the biting cold, and the exhausting heat, and all the temps and weather in between, and us still golfing. I remember it all so well.

I have so many memories of golfing with my friends and family, I wouldn't trade them for anything. Alas, "No man is rich enough to buy back his past."--Oscar Wilde--