We stayed at the Centrella Inn, a bed and breakfast in Pacific Grove. The picture above was taken with my cell phone as we forgot our camera at home. I also took a cellphone picture of a family of deer that invaded my golf game at Pacific Grove Golf Links. Darla and I stayed in the upstairs bedroom on the corner of the house with bay windows that look over the street. It was a relatively small room with a big claw foot tub and shower, Victorian antiques, a nice queen bed, a beautiful old armoire and, best of all, no television. We slept in on Friday, cleaned up and went down for the breakfast. It was very nice with fresh fruit, cereals, pastries and a choice of blueberry waffles, oatmeal or an apple sausage and mushroom quiche that was out of this world. The inn was built in 1889 and has 23 rooms, including five cottages that can be rented individually. It was very nice and we will stay there again. The inn is two blocks off the ocean and within a block of the shopping district.
Darla and I took a drive down to the beach, stopped and watched three guys fishing for eel and watched one haul one in and then wrestle it into a catch bin. I heard them say they were going to have pan fried eel strips for dinner. It would take five or six of the Budweiser's they were drinking to get me to eat eel. There were two local inebriates on the beach and the local constables showed up and hauled the 270 pound black guy off to the clink, leaving his friend behind. Luckily the guy agreed to go to jail, because he was bigger than the three cops put together. We took a drive down to Cannery Row and shopped the outlet mall there where I got a few new golf shirts at Izod, a hat and some shorts and a new pair of dark blue khakis from Van Huesen. Darla had shopped the day before as I was golfing and refrained from spending any more money.
Darla had been rather upset with me on my last trip to Monterey when I'd left her several times as she was shopping and wandered farther along the shops and she had to hunt for me. She sort of let me have it and let me know that she felt that I was disrespectful for not staying with her or letting her know where I was. She had several articles of clothes and had gone in to the dressing rooms when I noticed the time and knew that our meter was running out. I was torn between feeding the meter and letting her know where I was. Luckily, I sprinted out to the truck just in time to meet the meter reader who was prepared to write me a ticket. I asked him if I was too late as time had run out on the meter and he said, "Do you have a quarter?" I produced the quarter and fed the meter and he said, "It looks like you have time left. Have a nice day." I shook his hand and thanked him. When I got back to the store, Darla was standing with her hands on her hips and a look of exasperation on her face. I quickly explained the situation and she was mollified to know we saved a $50 ticket.
From there we headed back the coast to Pacific Grove and had lunch at the Fishwife restaurant. I drove up the coast to Big Sur and we went into Carmel Highlands and saw the Tickle Pink Inn and the Highlands Inn, along with the spectacular view of the ocean from the cliffs that define Carmel Highlands. I dropped Darla at 5:oo PM at her hostesses' house where she put on a Silpada party. From there I headed back to Pacific Grove Golf Links to hit balls next to the ocean. They wanted $9 for a large bucket of balls and only $20 to play the course on a super twilight rate. I opted to play the course and played the inland front nine with two balls, shooting 40 and 39 on the par 35 nine holes. The course is immaculate and known as the poor man's Pebble Beach.
I also played the final weekend of the Club Championship and played our number one player on Saturday. Ben is an 11, but always comes to play in the match play format. He proved a tough opponent as I shot 39 to his 39 on the front and led by only one hole after nine. I played exceptionally on the back and shot 37, closing Ben out on number 15 (5 and 3). Sunday I played my friend, Steve, in the final and had shot 76 on Saturday to his 86. It seemed a mismatch, but that's why we play the match. I shot 40 on the front Sunday to his 39 and he led the match one up after nine. I parred 10 and 11 to his bogeys to move one up and then parred 12 ,13 and 14 to his par, par and bogey to go two up with four to play. At that point the match was over for the guys playing with us. They elected to continue to play out the round and that was a mistake for me. One of the guys was wild off the tee and kept sculling the ball over the green. It began to get under my skin that this guy was getting in the way of our match. I double bogeyed14 and then parred 15 to Steve's bogey-birdie to knot the match all square. I then pulled this other guy aside and asked him to just let us play. He argued that he'd paid his money and wanted to continue. I told him that when we reached the green, that Steve and I would putt and he could wait until we were through. He then took five shots to reach the green and I had to wait for him to hack his way out of the trees and ended up shanking my second shot into the trees and knocking the ball over the green and taking another double bogey to Steve's par and he had me dormie with one hole to play. One of the frustrating things about the match was that I "lipped out" six putts in the course of the round. I will often have one or two lip outs during a round, but the bug was on me yesterday. I landed on the 458 yard par four finishing hole in three and had a 25 foot putt for par and Steve had a 20 foot putt. I hit a perfect putt that rolled slowly toward the hole. I had my putter in the air and was walking toward the cup when the ball did a complete 360 and stopped on the lip of the hole right at the spot that it entered the hole. I conceded the match at that point and told Steve congratulations and that I was going to my car and head home lest I throttle the idiot that got in the way of our match. He was standing off the green waiting to hit his seventh shot onto the par four when we finished putting. He shot 29 over the last four holes to completely interrupt our match. It was my fault for letting him get into my head, but as I said to Steve on the last hole as he hit his sixth shot toward the green, "Doesn't this idiot have pockets in his shorts? Pick the damn ball up." It was a tough loss for me and even harder to know that If I had won even one hole over the last four I would have guaranteed a playoff. Was it a lesson learned? I don't know. I truly feel that I lost to an inferior golfer and that were we to play nine matches more, I'd win eight of them. I finished with an 82 to Steve's 81, but if even half of the lip outs had stayed in, I'd have shot a 79. Frustrating? I'd say so.
Well, work awaits. Our month is in full swing and we are leading the sales contest for the quarter that ends September 30th. Take care. Ciao.
No comments:
Post a Comment