Fun, confusion, and melted games at Burford

Jeff Johnston aka Stones

Well folks, it was another beautiful and breezy day on the links! A few late cancellations threw us a bit of a curveball, but like a clutch 20-foot putt, we nailed the adjustments. The groups were well-balanced, balls were flying into the trees, and there was plenty of classic confusion over who actually owned which ball.

Jacque, Fever, Jay, and Bo made up a solid group. Who won, you ask? Honestly, I have no idea—they lost me the moment the great ball-ownership debate started.

Kopper and Gerry were as smooth as can be out there, matching the easy style of Swanny and Willie D. Meanwhile, Fergie and Dino had their own battle going. "The Bird Man" was openly questioning whether Fergie could actually count his own strokes. To be fair, Fergie is a rower, so it’s easy to see how he gets confused on dry land. Big Larry and BC, with Haybo in tow, rounded out the field. They watched helplessly as the group ahead of them (us) continued to provide endless amusement, while their own trio casually parred away as usual. A quick side note: BC, you are a seriously good golfer.

I played as a spare this week, teaming up with Ice Berg to take on Big Al and Chicken. Usually, in high-stress situations, I rely on my trusty rubber chicken, but on this day, I had to face the real deal.

The quote of the day came during our match: "Do you even know where you’re shooting?" 

As for Ice Berg and me? We melted like ice on a hot summer day, using our clubs as nothing more than stir sticks. At one point, we even had to "Stoogle Google" (Stew-style) to see if you're allowed to double-press. The official rules say no. With Chicken flying a little lower and quieter than usual, Big Al cruised them right to victory.

Another fantastic week of golf in the books. If you are looking for sarcasm, wit, and great camaraderie, you’ll always find it on Fridays at the Burford Golf Course.

Thanks again to everyone, and all the best!