Well, well, well. The first event of the 2008 Mif Albright Skins Series almost didn’t take place due to Soft Seven’s persistent and multi-pronged whinging. But, typically, looking back, I am sure SS is glad he finally crumbled and, grumbling, loaded his clubs into the Crushed Dog-Hair Transport Vehicle. When all was said and done, SS clocked seven skins to Large Professor’s two to assume the spot at the top of the table to open up the 2008 season. He’s the Daniel Chopra of the Mif.
Before we get to the action, Pub Wisdom would like to share SS’s top-five excuses for not playing . (Due to space limitations, we could not include all of SS’s excuses — rest assured there were many more -PW):
1) It’s raining buckets, bro, buckets. I’m looking out my window right now.
2) They close the Mif when it rains.
3) Dude, look at the radar — there’s no way.
4) I’ve got to hammer out a powerpoint, bro.
5) I don’t want to get sick from exposure.
Okay, it was slated to rain heavily that day, but the Skins god smiled on us, providing a perfectly timed 45 minutes of respite in which we could get the round in. It was raining on the drive over, stopped as we warmed up, then started up again as darkness fell after we’d hit our tee shots on 9! Amazing.
I rocked up to the starter, who was shocked we wanted to play the Mif in such conditions and tried to talk me out of it three times (Why on earth he is discouraging people to play, bad conditions or otherwise, is beyond me give that playership and revenues are down overall and the Mif specifically is under pressure — take the $20, man!). Once he realized we were serious, I asked if he was amenable to a 2-for-1 discount on account of the rain. “Not quite,” he responded, putting my Jackson in the till.
On the course, it was a straight drubbing, with SS hitting several greens off the tee while LP’s game digressed into infantry golf — left, right, left, right. As predicted on Pub Wisdom prior to the round, wet conditions with calm winds enabled SS to shoot for the pin (ball would literally auger into the green with little or no bounce/roll at all.
SS’s flat stick was also working, with several holed putts, a couple long ones on a true line that died 4-6 inches from the cup, and even a birdie on 2.
The round was blessed from on high, destined to be played despite the weather and SS’s impressive whinging. In the end, it was a great evening. Pub Wisdom admonishes SS — and all of us, really — to worry less about why things can’t happen and focus on how to overcome. Git r done.
