The rain that caused delays at the Presidents Cup reached my part of the world on Saturday night. It was still coming down on Sunday morning, when my friends and I assembled. We couldn’t tee off right away, because the greens were submerged.
Barney went to get coffee, and we talked about going out to breakfast. After an hour, though, we said the hell with it and teed off. We had eight guys plus Peter P., who is still recovering from his car accident and so was playing in absentia.
The course was wet, but it was playable, and when the rain let up a little bit most of the puddles disappeared.
On a dry day, you can step across this creek:
Keeping the scorecards dry was problematic:
But playing was better than going home and doing chores, and in areas where the water was too deep you could take relief.
The tee shot from on No. 13, which on Sundays we play from the tips, was even more intimidating than it usually is, but after thinking about it for a while Barney decided not to lay up.
The round took just over three hours, and we all shot about what we usually shoot. Then we grilled cheeseburgers, as always. We ate them in the clubhouse kitchen rather than on the patio, though. That’s also where we did skins, after reconstructing the scorecards.
My team won, and I won two skins. My fingers looked the way my kids’ used to after their baths.
Then it was time to go home.