In The Big Inning...

Last weekend, Sam and I visited her sister Tami, and brother-in-law Klaas. Before I launch into the main point of this post, I have an extended aside. Klaas and I were trying to determine if we were about to become brothers-in-law (brother-in-laws? eh, who cares?). I think we decided that we were, even though the relationship is Dave-married to Sam-sister of Tami-married to Klaas. That's three connections, two marriages, and one sibling. That's fine, I can live with that. Klaas is cool. But what about my brother Mike, and Sam's sister Tami? The relationship there is somewhat similar. Mike-brother of Dave-married to Sam-sister of Tami. Also three connections, but only one marriage, and two siblings. We decided that Mike and Tami are not brother/sister-in-law. But it seems kind of arbitrary. Don't get me started on "removed" cousins.

Back to the topic at hand. One of Klaas's good high school friends hosts an annual golf tournament. But it's not any type of golf tournament: As you might have gathered from the title of the post, it's a wiffle golf tournament. To this guy, whose name is Ray, Memorial Day Weekend is an annual event. Every year for the past ten, he has mowed an 18-hole golf course into his parents' lawn. It's not THAT big a yard, although it is sizeable, but placing 18 holes takes a lot of planning. He mows fairways, designates the driveways as "water hazards", and even had to have his mother yell at a neighbor NOT to mow his lawn, because the course spills over into his yard and Ray didn't want the course to be screwed up. He has custom-made flags, and carries a stick around with him to each flag because he doesn't actually dig holes into the ground. If you get the ball within the stick radius, it's in.

If this sounds moderately crazy to you, well, you're wrong. It's EXTREMELY crazy. This is a big deal to Ray, and it seems that Klaas and his other friends humor him each year. His parents were selling the house this year, so it was an even bigger to-do, as this would mark the last year that the tournament would be held at this location. (I think they're all counting on Ray to find a way to mow another course into whatever yard his parents have in their new location. God only knows what he'll do if they decide to purchase an apartment in Manhattan. Maybe he'll rent Central Park.) So, since we were visiting Klaas and Tami that weekend, and Klaas didn't want to let Ray down, we went along. Of course, it was a "guys only" event, so even though I'm not a golfer, I went with Klaas, and Tami and Sam went and did girlie things, I guess.

Actually, the "I'm not a golfer" sentence is an understatement. I've never really written a post about my dislike of golf, and I'm not going to do so right now, although I'm sure almost all of the people reading this are familiar with my feelings on the sport, or rather, the game. (That's yet another debate for another time.) I've been to a driving range a few times, and played a complete round once, and while I know I'm being close minded, it's just not my thing. Golf demands all sorts of skills that I don't have. I'm not patient, I'm not consistent, and I sunburn easily. I also don't own much plaid.

So, given all that, I was actually surprised how close wiffle golf was to the real golf I remember. We used real clubs (only two out of the set), and since Ray was so obsessive, he had estimated the pars and everything for the courses. The holes were about 200-300 feet, and had all sorts of obstacles. Most were par 4s, but there were some 5s and some 3s. He had ranked each hole in terms of difficulty, as well. We played "scramble", which I was a bit unfamiliar with. Basically, we had four teams of two, and after each shot, you got to choose the best one. Both players used the same placement to hit from, and then once again chose the best on to use. Ray had developed all sorts of rules about what you were allowed to do in terms of adjusting the placement of the ball, since there were no tees, and the ball doesn't always lie perfectly in grass, even when it's mowed. I was actually paired with Ray, since he was the best one (c'mon, you had to know that someone who was going to do this would be an avid golfer), and I was presumably the worst player. (Although only a few of the eight were regular golfers, I was the only one who hadn't played "Ray Golf" before, as he was wont to call it.)

I lived up to my billing: I was terrible. I did just as expected - about 1 in 10 I hit very well, about 2-3 I completely mis-hit, about 2-3 I hit decently, but too hard, too soft, too left, or too right, and then the other ones I'd hit OK, but nothing spectacular. Ray, however, did not live up to his billing: He was terrible as well. For sure, he was better than me, but he definitely wasn't even close to the best on there. As a result, we finished dead last. Did I say finished? Well, it took three freakin' hours (so it really was closer to real golf than you might expect), and I had had enough at around the 9th hole. I think we ended up around 6 over par - the three other teams all finished at or under par. So, we stunk.

We finished at around 4 (actually, they ended up playing 3 extra holes to determine second place), and Klaas and I headed home. Ray and some of the others stayed to play singles. I supposed if you're going to spend a day mowing a golf course into your parents' lawn, you might as well get a full day's use out of it.

After all that, I have to say, it opened up my eyes. Even wiffle golf required a significant amount of skill and patience, and a lot of endurance as well, with the sun beating down on you. It was quite a challenge to keep my stroke consistent over three hours, and even with two clubs, you had to make critical strategy decisions about when to go for the hole, and when to play it safe. So, I guess I was wrong all along. Actually, I'm just kidding - I was bored off my ass. It was a new experience, but golf still sucks. I'm glad it didn't last six hours. But at least I got a real nice sunburn.