Birthday Bowl Game

I don't know what I'm more excited about for this New Year's Eve: My wife's birthday, or the Insight Bowl, featuring the 6-6 powerhouse Minnesota Gophers vs. 6-6 Iowa State. (Just kidding, honey...)

I recall a conversation two uncles of mine were having in 1977. The Gophers were invited to this new "loser bowl," as one of them called it. That was the inaugural (and now-defunct) Hall of Fame Classic, which they lost to Maryland, 27-17. This new bowl game had brought the total of college football bowl games to a whopping twelve.

In 1985, the Lou Holtz-led, 6-5 Gophers earned a trip to the Independence Bowl, which they won 20-13 over Clemson under coach John Gutekunst, who had replaced the Notre Dame-headed Holtz by the time the game was played. It was one of fifteen bowl games overall.

In 1986, the Gophers were again bowl-bound at 6-5, despite a 63-0 shellacking at the hands of Oklahoma, and an embarrassing non-conference loss to Pacific. The also now-defunct Pacific Tigers finished the year 4-7, losing its final five games, including two to three-win teams (the also also-now-defunct Fullerton State, and the Utah State Aggies). For more perspective, only the more recent loss to North Dakota State was worse in my lifetime, and the recent wins against North Dakota State and South Dakota State were about as bad.

The Butch-Nash-pep-talk-inspired upset win over Michigan that year saved the season, as did, perhaps, the addition of two more bowl games, bringing the total to seventeen. They lost to Tennessee in the Liberty Bowl, 21-14. I remember reading and wondering about where the integrity in the bowl system was headed.

In 1999, the Gophers finished 8-4, after losing to Oregon in the Sun Bowl. It was one of 23 bowl games that season. It was around this time that the prestige of bowl games had come to the point of schools defining successful seasons by whether they made it to a "New Year's" bowl game, presumably meaning one played on or after January 1.

This season, there are 34 bowl games. The Cyclones of Iowa State have lost a couple close ones, and they defeated Nebraska. They were also much more impressive in defeating NDSU (34-17) than the Gophers were in defeating SDSU (16-13, a game in which the Gophers' offense did not score a touchdown). I would assume that puts the Gophers in the role of the underdog.

Here's what I find especially funny about this bowl season: There are fourteen bowl games played on or after January 1. That's two more than all of the 1977 bowl season. What's more, some of those games are far less prestigious (e.g., Papa Johns, GMAC) than some of the pre-New Year games (e.g., Brut Sun, Champs Sports). The term "New Year's" bowl game has been rendered meaningless.

My wife is a former University of Minnesota varsity swimmer. I am a long-suffering Golden Gophers fan. So just as I did with my wife on her birthday last year, I'll be pulling hard for a Ski-U-Mah victory just before ringing in the New Year on Thursday. A bowl victory on my wife's birthday, followed by some Auld Lang Syne - does life get any better than that?

Rah!

Bittersweet Day at the Magic Kingdom

My wife and I took our two boys, ages 2 and 4, to Walt Disney World's Magic Kingdom today. It was their first visit, and they really enjoyed it, especially the four-year-old, because he got to meet many of the characters, including Mickey Mouse.

Today was also the birthday of my late father-in-law, the first birthday since his passing last May. My wife understandably was hesitant to go to Disney World on this day, but it ended up being a very nice distraction. The smiles on the boys' faces helped her forget, if only for some of the time.

On a different note, sort of, I would love to go to all of the Disney theme parks on my own some time. I am an avid admirer of the man's vision, and the attention to detail you find in the parks. One of the nice things about waiting in line for 45 minutes just for a picture with Winnie the Pooh and Tigger, too, is that it gives someone like me a chance to be introspective about it all. But I'd rather be walking around taking more of it in.

As chance would have it, the History Channel aired its Modern Marvels - Disney World episode tonight. For grownups who may need a different perspective from which to see "It's a Small World" without losing a little of their lunch, I highly recommend catching this episode.

Rules of the House

If I buy a half gallon of my favorite ice cream, and you would like some, don't wait. I will have finished it in three late night sittings.

With many other foods, I will most likely be considerate and make sure you have had a chance to take in a fair portion - Oreo Double Stuff cookies, for example. But not ice cream. You're welcome to have some, just don't wait more than a couple days, or you're likely to miss out.

This will no doubt have to change if I am to reach my 2009 weight loss goals in 2010. At least the ice cream companies think I'm too stupid to notice their half-gallons have shrunk to 1.75 quarts, and now 1.5 quarts. The way I see it, I'm eating less in three late-night sittings than ever before.

A Very Bad Break

When I saw Napoleon McCallum injure his leg in 1994, my first thought was, "His career is over." Unfortunately, I was right. I had no medical knowledge to guide me other than remembering hearing it was that type of injury that ended Gale Sayers' career. I'm not even sure if that's true; it just looked that bad.

I fear tonight I have seen another career-ender in Minnesota Viking E.J. Henderson's injury. When the knee bends the wrong way that far, it's not good, to say the very least.

The Vikes look bad tonight, and without Henderson the rest of the year, it'll be tough. But right now, my thoughts are with E.J. I seriously doubt he will ever play again.

Another Saturday Night at My House

It seems every time I post a blog entry, I think I have to write a chapter of a book and include some deep thoughts, or something elongated to either make one chuckle, smile, or think. I don't tweet yet, but my other short thoughts end up as Facebook entries, so the blog posts tend to be infrequent and long. I hope to tweet soon, but also blog more, even if it means short, silly entries like this one.

So without further ado, here it is:

My wife and I are sitting on the couch together on this cold Saturday night. Romantic, no? No. We are both on our laptops, I on my blog and she playing Farmville. She's also on the phone with her best friend, while listening to Bette Midler, and two televisions are on. The boys are in the basement playing the Wii. I just think it's funny, nothing more.

I Always Give Them My Money

On Black Friday, for an early Christmas present, my wife bought three Beatles CDs for me: Past Masters I & II, Abbey Road, and the "White Album." I'm a huge Beatles fan, plus post-Beatles Paul McCartney (you know the old joke: "Paul McCartney was in a band before Wings?").

When some friends and I trekked to Ames, Iowa in 1990 for a McCartney show, one of them wondered aloud how much Macca must make on royalties. "Todd just mails him a $50 check every week," joked one of the guys. He was exaggerating only a little.

In the '70s, my sister turned me on to the Beatles. Then in 1980, a high school friend in band class came from typing every day, where he would type some John Lennon lyrics for me to read ("poems," as my friend called them). The morning of December 9, 1980, however, he had nothing.

"Who could type a poem on a day like today?," he solemnly asked. Indeed.

By then I was hooked. My friend had taped some of his Beatles albums for me, but I had to buy my own. Later that sophomore year, I recall my dad once saying, after seeing I had purchased the Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour cassettes, "They're still making money!" That was only a little over ten years after they had broken up. He may have popped a vein had he known how much more they would continue to make.

So let's get back to my weekly check to McCartney, no pun intended. ("Get Back" if you missed it, but now that I've pointed it out, you're less likely to believe it was unintended. Oh well...) That Sgt. Pepper cassette did fine for me for a few years, but every self-respecting Beatles fan has to own the LP, even today, so eventually I bought that, too.

In 1984, picture discs were appearing here and there, and although they never quite caught on, I had to buy the Sgt. Pepper version. Then in the late '80s, when the Beatles finally worked out an agreement to release their albums on CD, I of course had to buy it again in that format.

That brings us to the present, and the re-released and re-mastered collection of the Fab Four's albums, which are claimed to be superior to the '80s releases. Even though I likely will not be able to notice one iota of difference, no doubt I will soon own my fifth Sgt. Pepper album.

(Yes, you can still call them "albums." The word "album" does not necessarily mean the long-playing record format. Those are called "LPs." It is a huge pet peeve of mine when people think they have to correct even themselves when they say "album" when referring to a "CD.")

There are many albums I've purchased more than once, with most of them being to upgrade from tape or LP to CD format. Michael Jackson's Thriller comes in second with three. But Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band leads with four, soon to be five.

And Paul, Ringo Starr, Olivia Harrison, and Yoko Ono will still be making money.

LPGA Popularity

I watched the re-run last night of Michelle Wie winning her first ever LPGA tournament, narrowly defeating, among others Paula Creamer.

The LPGA tour had 34 tournaments in 2008, 27 in 2009, and is scheduled for 23 in 2010. I don't get it. Why the LPGA tour is not more popular now than ever before is a bit puzzling to me.

Yes, I know the economy is in the dumper still. Yes, I know with the increase of non-American born players, it is possible American fans have felt a bit disconnected.

But come on. Natalie Gulbis. Michelle Wie. Paula Creamer. And those are just the famous ones. Sex sells, so they say, and the LPGA tour has never been sexier.

It may be controversial, but the new LPGA commissioner needs to use the tour's sex appeal.

As Michelle McGann once said long ago, when the aforementioned ladies were in diapers (if that yet), "I don't know why people wouldn't want to come out and see our pretty faces."

My personal golf crush? Suzann Pettersen. But that can change day-to-day.

Bobcat at Acme Comedy Company

I saw Bobcat Goldthwait at Acme Comedy Company over the weekend with my wife, two sisters, and nephew. I wasn't disappointed, although he did use more of his older material than I expected from a guy who is going out on the road for the first time in a while.

By "older material," I am not referring to his Police Academy days. More around the time he started cutting his hair and had lost a lot of weight.

Looking back on his Police Academy days, I always thought Bobcat looked like an overweight Andre Agassi. Now that he has gained back the weight he lost (and then some), chopped his ever-receding hair, he once again looks like an overweight Andre Agassi. He even sounds a bit like Andre since he has dropped the screaming lunatic bit from his act. ("After about twenty minutes of that, it gets really f***ing annoying," said Bobcat, to which the audience roared.)

His best joke of the night was (supposedly) a true story, and was very politically incorrect. Well, the story was P.I., but if you found it funny, you were too. Remember Johnny Carson's classic Carnac "sis-boom-bah" joke, and subsequent audience reaction? It was reminiscent of that.

Not everyone got the punchline immediately, but everyone eventually came around, and the more one thought of it and visualized what he described, the louder one laughed. So it was just a long drawn-out laughter from the full-house crowd. It was probably the longest I recall in my years of seeing stand-up, rivaled perhaps by Emo Philips' non-alcohol beer joke, and Steven Wright's shoreline fishing joke.

Let me know if you want to know the jokes I'm referring to. I'm refraining because I don't have enough time to post it all tonight (the Goldthwait joke was a long story), I don't want to disappoint if you don't find them funny, and I don't want anyone to know how much I enjoyed a politically incorrect joke.

I'll just tell you the Goldthwait punchline:

"Firetruck?!"

Minnesota Golf in November

My last round of golf was September 23. The way things were going, I was certain that would be my last round of the year, making it the earliest last round of the year in, well, several years.

But I have a 9:10 tee time tomorrow at Stonebrooke in Shakopee. I should be raking leaves in the back yard, but oh well. I'm not sure if the ferry across the bay on hole 8 at Stonebrooke runs this late in the year, but regardless, I'll be glad to be playing.

I know I'll stink it up, but because I don't have to post the round for handicapping purposes, as it is after October 15 here in Minnesota, and the weather is expected to be unseasonably great, who cares? Not I, although I'll surely grumble at more than a few shots.

The only month during which I have not played golf in Minnesota is February, although I did turn down an opportunity once. Several Decembers ago, it got to 60 degrees on December 3, and I not only played but actually played part of the round in a short-sleeved polo. Then, a few Januarys later, during a winter in which there had been little snow, an unseasonably warm spell in January caused one local course to open on a 55-degree day.

If you're even half-knowledgeable about golf courses in the Twin Cities, you no doubt guessed correctly that the course that January day was Parkview.

Selig Defends the Umps

MLB Commissioner Bud Selig is on Letterman tonight. He spouted out the old canard, "The umpires are right 99% of the time."

Perhaps, Bud, but at least 95% of the calls are easy enough for a fifth-grader to handle.

I really don't hate umpires...honest! I have a great deal of respect for them in fact, at least below the MLB level all the way down to Class E Co-Rec Fall Softball.

But even though I liked some of the other things he said tonight (he too hates November baseball), I'm still no fan of Bud.

Don't Judge a Pumpkin Patch by its Cover

It's a popular time of year for apple orchards, pumpkin patches, and hayrides. Some businesses combine all three, plus a few other attractions like corn mazes, and do very well. My wife and I took the kids to one such place last year.

We were in Alexandria, Minnesota this past weekend with our two boys and my three older kids from my first marriage. My wife wanted to take all the kids to an orchard/pumpkin patch again this year, and was concerned we wouldn't get a chance if we went to Alex (pronounced "Alec" by us Alex natives...one of those local things, like Lake Carlos being pronounced "Car'-luss").

So to Google I went and found a business just west of Alex that was an apple orchard, pumpkin patch, and hayride provider, just like you find in the Big City (Alex city limits population is around 10.000). Better yet, the online source said their hours were from 8am until dark through October. Jackpot!

We headed out Sunday morning with the directions I had written down, and like a Northwest Airlines pilot, I overshot the place by quite a bit before realizing it. How could we have missed it? It was right on this road!

My wife called the phone number I so smartly had also written down, and an old woman answers. Yes, they had apples/pumpkins/hayrides, but she and her husband just got back from church. They usually open around 1 PM (it was about 11 AM when we called), but if we turn around, look for the mailbox on the address, and pull in, they'll be glad to help us. Her husband would even change out of his Sunday clothes and fire up the John Deere to pull us on a hayride.

This big-city-style attraction was in fact just a lovely couple in there mid-eighties I would guess, who had been doing this for forty years, and it was all on their modest homestead. The woman pulled off the tarps to expose the pumpkins and apples, most of which were neither symmetrical or without some sort of flaws.

Her husband pulled out the tractor, an oil-burning machine that was barely bigger than an ATV. He hooked it up to a small wooden trailer/wagon equipped with home-made seats that wiggled when we sat on them. My two-year-old grabbed me tightly as I grabbed the semi-secure railing on our bumpy journey. "Daddy, I scared," he wimpered to me.

The exhaust we inhaled on the hayride (hay excluded, by the way) had to be about as damaging as if we had smoked two packs of filter-less Camels on the 10-minute trip. But the awkwardness of the whole situation at this Mom-and-Pop Orchard/Pumpkin Patch/Hayride Haven ended there.

To our surprise, their back yard was quite long, and consisted of 60 trees. The old man would stop occasionally, telling us of how this year's crop was poor, and why. A big reason was, not surprisingly, the weather, but we learned the weather affected the amount of bee pollination that occurred, which was not enough for a bumper crop. Who knew the Bee Movie was actually accurate to any degree?

We saw where the deer got into the pumpkins and squashes, and learned that barbed wire seems to work OK as a repellent. We saw all the trees, the raspberry patches, and other gardens. And at the end of the ride, we got to see how they make apple juice the old-fashioned way.

Out of the garage, they pulled out an old wood-and-steel contraption. It consisted of a motorized apple chopper, a barrel into which the apple chips flew, and a manual crank to squish the juice out. The juice would drain into a pale and they used a steel sieve to catch most of the pulp.

I had to take it on faith that the old machine, the bucket, sieve, and of course the apples had all been washed. The kids got a kick out of putting the apples in the chipper, although we kept a close eye on the two- and four-year-olds' fingers. No need to make apple juice a protein drink. After a sip of the best-tasting apple juice we'd ever had, we were sold.

We ended up with four pumpkins the kids picked out, a bag of apples, and a gallon of freshly squeezed organic apple juice, not to mention the hay-less hayride. All in little over an hour. Total bill: $16. We handed the nice woman a $20 bill and told her to keep the change.

Bargain of the year, I figured, plus we were truly helping out the local economy. Maybe they can invest in some wagon seating reinforcement.

Moron, err, More on Baseball Announcing

Throughout the MLB postseason, I have been cringing at Chip Caray's inability to distinguish between a fly ball, a soft-liner, and a flare. In the bottom of the ninth of tonight's Philadelphia win over LA, to put the Phillies up three games to one, he did it again. It was a soft liner to third, and he called it a fly.

Still, I never thought he would become his late grandfather so soon in life, until I heard his call on the game-winning hit. "Here comes the throw home," he yelled, exactly while the ball was coming in to the second baseman. There never was a throw home as the winning run crossed the plate.

Yikes. I'm guessing I would still prefer Caray for the course of a full season over the Twins' announcers.

Farewell to the Metrodome

I was at the last two Minnesota Twins games ever at the HHH Metrodome, with tonight's elimination against the Yankees being the finale. While it was disappointing to watch yet more base path blunders from a team that is supposed to be known for its fundamentals, it clearly wasn't meant to be for this team this postseason. (Along with Nick Punto's impression of a class D co-rec softball player, I count Cuddyer failing to get to second on what should have been a hit to right a blunder, even though it was somewhat understandable.)

Those who know me for giving MLB umpires a hard time may wonder what I thought of Phil Cuzzi's gaffe in game 2. It was horrendous, to be sure. No one really knows whether it actually cost the Twins the game, but I am certain of two things: It is absolutely inexcusable, and would have been avoided with instant replay.

I got a kick out of the back-and-forth on the game logs, blogs, and message boards about that play. Twins fans complaining and looking somewhat foolish by over-reaching with their logic, followed by Yankees fans yelling back with a plethora of idiocy.

The most annoying counter to complaints about Cuzzi is the one that goes like this: "Oh yeah, well if the ump in Game 163 didn't F-up, you wouldn't even be in this game!"

First, it's a red herring. More specifically, aa kind of tu quoque - a logical fallacy commonly found in political arguments. Second, while both calls were incorrect, and the one that went against Inge in game 163 was arguably more costly to his team, as I stated in my previous post, the Inge call was entirely understandable. That kind of call (or no-call) cannot be reasonably held personally against the umpire. Not so for Cuzzi's blown call.

In a recent article by Ken Rosenthal, he claimed the Inge call was "perhaps even more egregious" than Cuzzi's. I agree with much of what Rosenthal was trying to say in the article, but seriously...egregious?? To borrow a line from Inigo Montoya, I do not think that word means what he thinks it means. And he makes a living as a writer?

I guess if Phil Cuzzi can make a living at about three times of my own by missing the one call he was put in there to make, then anything is possible.

But enough about the calls. You know what I found interesting about these last couple of nights? What might have really made a difference in this series is just the luck of the asymmetrical nature of ball park design.

If Yankee Stadium and the Metrodome swapped ball park dimensions (i.e., it was 343 down the left field line at Yankee, 318 at Metrodome, etc.), then Brendan Harris's triple in game 2 is a home run, and Texeira's game-winning home run would have been a ground rule double (assuming, of course, Cuzzi called it correctly). In tonight's game 3, Posado's home run would likely have been caught for an out.

I enjoy thinking of the "what ifs" to the point where I probably have built a reputation as an excuse-maker. But that's not what it's about at all. I just find it fun to look for the things announcers normally don't. There's a lot of luck involved in the game, even in a seemingly easy three-game sweep.

As a Twins fan, it's not too hard to go outside of the "good piece of hitting right there" box we Twins fans are so used to. But sometimes I like to get carried a way with it. What if Yankee Stadium and the Metrodome had the same dimensions as the old Polo Grounds? Well, then neither of A-Rods atomic bombs would have been home runs.

All right, I'll admit that's a bit much.

Go Vikings!

Edited to add: After finishing up this post, I went back to the Rosenthal bit to read some more of the comments. I had missed this one, obviously from my twin from whom I was separated at birth. Check out the last lines:

theoneeyedjack 10/11/2009 3:19:34 PM
While I agree with the overall point here, the Twins have nobody to blame but themselves for the loss, there are a couple of strangely incorrect statements. "the apparent double that was ruled foul by left-field umpire Phil Cuzzi." APPARENT double? Are you kidding me? It could not have been more obvious that Cuzzi blew the call. It hit Melky's glove in fair territory and clearly landed at least half-a-foot inside the foul line. Also to say that the umps rendered a "perhaps even more egregious decision on the Tigers just three nights earlier" that benefitted the Twins is absurd. More egregious? The ball barely grazed Inge's jersey. Even on super slow-mo replay, it was hard to tell whether there was actual contact from some angles. A blown call, but totally understandable how it was missed. It's impossible for me to see how Cuzzi blew the call on Mauer's double.
Kenny Boy, me thinks you need a dictionary. Apparent? Egregious? To paraphrase Inigo Montoya, "These words, I do not think they mean what you think they mean."

Game 163

I was in attendance at the Metrodome for the 12-inning thriller over Detroit Tuesday night. I will post some pictures when I get them loaded.

Being how hard I have been on MLB umpires, I would imagine some might wonder what I thought of the no-call on Brandon Inge's jersey getting hit by a pitch, which would have led to the go-ahead run for the Tigers. I have complained most vociferously in the past when the calls have gone against my Twins.

I suppose people would accuse me of bias when I say this: the umpire did the right thing. With 54,000 yelling, it's not reasonable to expect him to hear the jersey getting clipped. It was also not enough contact to be obvious visually. When faced with no evidence, the umpire must not make the HBP call. Believe me or not, but that's my opinion on the matter regardless of whom is victimized by the non-call.

In the 2003 Minnesota Corporate State Softball Tournament, my team finished second. During the championship game, I was playing first base. On one play, a grounder was hit against us, the infielder threw it wildly, and I awkwardly reached and made a desperate tag on the runner, barely getting him on his backside before he touched first. The umpire called him safe.

I didn't say a word, but the umpire could tell by my reaction that I was extremely disappointed in the call. So much so, that in the next inning, he apologized to me. I told him, "Hey, you made the call you had to make. It was a wild throw and I wasn't able to make an assertive tag. You were positioned correctly, and if you didn't see the tag, and I didn't give you reason to assume it was made, you had to call him safe." Or words to that effect.

What I was so upset at was that it came to that - a bad break - not that the ump failed me. Hearing Inge's post-game comments, it seemed like he rightfully felt a little bit the same way. Some blown calls you cannot blame the umpire for, but rather simple bad luck, like a bad hop or a lost ball in the sun (or roof, or lights).

Another thing about the Inge at bat: If the ump makes the right call and gives him the base, and the Tigers win, then I would be pushing for a new rule about players' jerseys. Inge looked like he was wearing a circus tent. In the spirit of the HBP rule, a player should not take a free base just for wearing a jersey fit for an NHL goaltender.

Oh, man, don't get me started on goalie equipment. Maybe this winter I'll write about that. In the mean time, go Twins. See if you can't steal one from the Yankees tomorrow.

Validated by a Yale Physics Professor

Never one to scream, "I told you so!," (I prefer to sing it while dancing and punching my arms wildly to the sky), I refer you to the September 19, 2009 issue of ESPN Magazine. (Is it still called ESPN the Magazine officially? I can't be bothered to find out myself.)

As if my ego needed any more of a boost (see previous post on the MGA tournament last week), there is a nice little article by Jeff Bradley on the art of sliding in MLB and how it will have an effect in the playoffs this year. On the bottom of page 47, there's a bit of a sidebar which I will share verbatim:

You've seen it a hundred times: Some speedster tries to beat out a dribbler by launching himself at first base, and the TV analyst says something like, "Never slide into first. It's faster running through the bag." Unless, of course, it isn't. Yale physics professor Robert Adair, author of The Physics of Baseball, theorizes that an adept dive might just get the runner there a hair faster. "We can assume, reasonably, that the forward stretch-out can be accomplished without significantly reducing the velocity of that center of mass." Adair explains, "Since the fingertips of the rotated runner will be farther ahead of the center of mass than the foot of the upright man, the dive will get there a foot or so sooner, roughly 1/30th of a second." Which makes you wonder whether runners should dive every time. But as the good doctor points out, "You're not likely to last the season that way."*

You know what's cool? I can't see one thing in the above paragraph that is inconsistent with my take on the subject as I posted here and again here. In fact, it supports my major points more than I could have hoped.

I doubt, however, that this will find its way into the mindset of the vast majority of recreation-level umpires, and thus they will still generally call anybody out for sliding head-first into first just because "everybody knows that studies show" you don't do that.

Everybody, that is, who is unaware of the Yale physics professor whose own studies show something else.

*Additional reporting by Anna Katherine Clemmons, Louise Cornetta, Molly Knight and Matt Meyers.

2009 Minnesota State Mid-Amateur Memories

It was another year of improvement for me at the Minnesota State Mid-Amateur golf tournament this year. I finished +15 for two rounds (82 - 78, par was 145 for the Minnesota Valley Country Club and Montgomery Golf Club), tied for 74th place, missing the cut by just three strokes. All in all, I was very pleased with my performance. You can always go back and think about the what-ifs, but that can go for the good holes as well. I will re-visit the what-ifs in a positive manner, hopefully learning from them, and upping the ante next year to hopefully make the cut.

There were 204 players this year (some had apparently withdrawn well before the start), and 199 showed up to play at least the first round. So 74th is pretty cool, compared to last year, when I finished in a tie for 133rd out of 218 players who at least played round one (there was a full field of 240 signed up, but many no-showed or officially withdrew before round one). I missed last years cut by 11 strokes.

I can't help but feel very positively about what this could mean for the future of my game. The greens were, to quote Gary McCord, bikini waxed. (There goes my chance of announcing at the Masters.) The weather was tame, but the set-up and pin placements more than made up for it.

Even the most disappointing parts will, in the long run, make me the better for it. Those include:

- letting the pressure of being -2 through the first five holes after starting eagle-bogey-birdie-par-par get me thinking too much about score and not enough about each shot
- finishing round one double-double; I really didn't feel I played the holes that badly; I just made the wrong mistakes on the wrong holes
- missing some putts short on day two; I am a lag-putter, and that's my game, but I wish I would putt uphill or flat putts a little more aggressively, especially the ones that aren't much longer than 12-15 feet

That's really about it for the negatives. Not just my takeaways concerning my own game, there are so many things positive about the whole experience, I highly recommend MGA tournaments for even casual golfers. Minnesota has one of the best state golf associations in the nation; you really are made to feel like someone important. Minnesota's softball and bowling associations could learn from the MGA.

To help build up my confidence as much as possible as I head to the off-season, I came up with some "fun facts" of how I did vs. the field:

1. Of the 14 people who competed with handicaps equal to or higher than mine (max handicap is 6.4 to enter; mine was 5.6 at time of entry), I placed higher than all of them.
2. Of the 49 competitors who had handicaps of 3.5 to 5.5, I placed higher than all but three.
3. Of the several (more than a dozen) players with "+" handicaps (better than scratch), I finished higher than four of them. One of them even shot an 88 one round.

That's how tough the courses played. Two-and-three handicappers were in some cases struggling to break 90. I'd be foolish not to feel pretty good, despite missing the cut, the double bogeys, etc. etc.

My goal is to someday be a scratch golfer. At this year's Mid-Am, although it won't show up on my handicap index card, I played like one.

Lastly, to complete my self-indulgence, I put together a hole-by-hole report of my tournament, with some other commentary, below. I find it interesting that I have a clearer memory of day one than day two, but that is probably because I had played the MVCC once before. It was my first time seeing the Montgomery course.


Day one, Monday, September 21, 12:30 PM, hole 1, MVCC

Hole 1 498 yards par 5. Drive about 290; 4 iron to back of green, just on fringe, about 15-18 ft from pin. Very slick right to left, downhill putt made for eagle.

Hole 2 172 yards par 3. Seven-iron one-hop on back of green into back bunker. Hole is about 20 feet downhill, thus the seven iron, but either adrenaline or misjudged breeze caused me to hit it long. Sand shot to about 20 ft., missed slick, slightly downhill putt, about 2 inches short and right. Tap-in bogey.

Hole 3 346 yards par 4. Hybrid (19-degrees) pushed to trees right. Low six-iron draw punch to 12-15 ft. Made left to right, slightly downhill birdie putt. Very slick again - just like eagle putt on one, it fell in center-cut with about two revolutions to spare.

Hole 4 350 yards par 4. Drive about 275; wedge to green, two-putts for par.

Hole 5 549 yards par 5. Very cautious drive into soft breeze about 240 yards, slight fade (OB was at left). From right rough, hit hybrid over trees to middle of fairway. Short iron to green, two-putts for par.

Hole 6 351 yards par 4. Hybrid through fairway into rough (hole is a sharp dogleg left). Wedge long to back of severely sloping back-to-front green. One of the two scariest putts I had both days; downhill and very left to right. Left it 3 ½ ft long and right. Very happy with leave, but lipped out come backer and made bogey.

Hole 7 150 yards par 3. Plays uphill and pin was a little back, so I hit a seven iron. Caught it a little thin, went edge of rough on back left fringe of the green. Thin chip about 12 feet long; missed par putt just off right edge, tapped in for bogey.

Hole 8 299 yards par 4. Had thoughts of trying to drive green, but decided to play safe. Oh the irony. Hit worst shot of day and one of two “30-handicapper-type” shots in tournament. Over-the top three would down the hill left, almost in hazard. Punched out to 150 - yes, 150 on a 299-yard hole. Playing for bogey, hit nine iron fine, but pulled a little into left bunker. No chance to get sand shot close, left it long, hit poor first putt very short, but made next for double bogey. Ouch.

Hole 9 448 yards par 4. Toughest hole on the course; a real doozy. Downhill blind landing to an uphill split-level green. Hit nice soft drive into breeze a out 250. Hit soft hybrid to back of green, where pin was, and two-putted from about 15 feet for par.

Out in 38, feeling pretty good, despite hole 8.

Hole 10 493 yards par 5. Hit OK drive about 275 into left rough. Hit five iron to right front of green. Poor pitch, three-putt from about 25-30 feet for bogey.

Hole 11 230 yards par 3. Was playing 223 IIRC, hit hybrid just short left. Poor chip to about 10 feet, two putts for bogey.

Hole 12 146 yards par 3. Can’t quite recall how long it was playing, but I think I hit nine iron. Short-sided self to right, thin chip about 12-15 feet past hole. Two putts for bogey.

Hole 13 394 yards par 4. Hit driver in fairway, about 130 out. Left face slightly open on wedge to green, caught false front at right, rolled off green. “Texas wedge” to about 15 feet, two putts for bogey.

Hole 14 411 yards par 4. Conservative fade drive to about 160, seven iron to about 8 feet, made birdie putt. Felt good that for the second time today I was able to “stop the bleeding.” For now…

Hole 15 556 yards par 5. Pulled drive short and into left rough, approach back to fairway (hybrid I think), sand wedge to green, two putts for par.

Hole 16 371 yards par 4. Pulled drive to rough just in front of fairway bunker. Sand wedge to green, two putts form about 15 feet for par.

Hole 17 423 yards par 4. Pushed drive to right rough, six iron, which proved to be too much club, to behind green. Difficult pitch; debated trying a Mickelson flop with 64-degree wedge. Hit instead 58-degree wedge which proved to be wrong choice, long and into front rough. Just no way to stop it. Chipped fairly poorly from there, two-putted from about 12 feet for double bogey.

Hole 18 600 yards par 5. With OB right, I planned a full drive over trees left, hoping to hit a fade. Executed perfectly to fairway. Tried to cut a hybrid shot from there, but pulled it and clipped trees left. It ended up in fairway, but about 225 out. Hit hybrid from there and caught just a little heavy to about 15 yards in front of green. Chipped long, and left other of two scariest putts of round. I knew I had to just “get it rolling” from about 15 feet, but put too much pace on it, and it rolled 8-10 feet long. Missed come backer as it stopped about two inches short and right. Tapped in for back-to-back double bogeys to finish at +9 with an 82.

Day two, Tuesday, September 21, 8:30, start on hole 10, Montgomery Golf Club

Hole 10 415 yards par 4. A 260-yard drive or longer would have been fine to cut the corner of the dogleg left. Hit the drive about 270, but did not cut the corner enough, and went through the fairway. Six or seven iron to left of green. Nice chip to a foot. Tapped in for par.

Hole 11 398 yards par 4. Don’t really remember much, except I missed the fairway, missed the green, and two-putted for bogey.

Hole 12 301 yards par 4. Hybrid over 175 yard hazard carry to fairway (too risky by the green to try to reach in one). Sand wedge to green, but short - about 25-30 feet form hole. Hit first putt long, missed about 6-footer and made bogey.

Hole 13 352 yards par 4. Mature trees surround the fairway and render hitting driver a foolish choice. Hit hybrid, but pushed right among trees . Hit punch 4 or 5 iron to close to the green. Chipped somewhat poorly; two-putted for bogey.

Hole 14 171 yards par 3. Was playing 173 IIRC; took a little of a six iron and hit to 12 feet behind hole. Made putt for birdie.

Hole 15 498 yards par 5. Hit nice low draw with driver to about 210 out from a back-placed pin. Decided to hit 4 iron instead of hybrid because it looked like OB came into play to both sides of and back of green. Worst case with 4 iron would be to leave short…which I did because I came up real bad and topped it about 150 yards. Sand wedge to about 15 feet, left birdie putt on edge and tapped in for par.

Hole 16 390 yards par 4. Hit drive through fairway (dogleg left) to about 125. Hit wedge short of green. So-so chip, but made 8-foot putt for par.

Hole 17 216 yards par 3. Slightly uphill hole was playing about 223. Hit hybrid into very slight breeze to about 20 feet behind hole. Nice lag putt to about four inches past; tapped in for par.

Hole 18 548 yard par 5. Pushed drive about 250, nice hybrid over trees to about 80, but still in rough. As I’m waiting to hit, one of my playing partners hits third shot, a seven iron from about 150 after troubled drive. Shot lands right of pin, I applaud his shot, then look back at my situation. Thought I hit a nice 58-degree wedge, but rolled of left of green. Too strong with the chip, two putts for bogey. It was as I went to try my par putt that I learned my playing partner’s third shot actually went in for eagle (I was asking him where his ball marker was so I wouldn’t step on his line).

Hole 1 373 yards par 4. Don’t remember how I played this; only that I one-putted for par.

Hole 2 483 yards par 5. Pulled drive into rough. Green protected by bunker where I’m hitting from, so hit six iron to about 80 yards. Hit so-so 58-degree wedge. Two putts for par.

Hole 3 184 yards par 3. Hole was marked at 188 IIRC, hit five iron making sure not to over-hit. Fanned it a bit right and found I was long as well. All three of us were surprised to see we went long. One of the guys actually went OB. Went back to tee to hit third shot and said he paced it off twice at 182. Hmmm. Anyway, I chipped to about four feet and made par. Partner who went OB three-putted from 3 ½ feet for a quad and was visibly upset.

Hole 4 392 yards par 4. Dogleg right around lake. Hit soft driver through fairway, hit seven iron through green. Hit thin chip and two-putted for bogey. Laying partner who took quad at previous hole was further upset when he couldn’t find ball and on-site official wasn’t watching from the fairway. (To be fair, he was probably assigned that position to spot for players on adjacent fairway.) Player picked up his ball when he was lying 3 off the green, shook our hands, and withdrew from the tournament. Was +6 on the day, +12 for the tournament at the time. Cut ended up being +13, but as he is a scratch handicapper, just making the cut was probably not what he had in mind.

Hole 5 378 yards par 4. It’s about a 230-yard carry over water to cut the dogleg left. Took driver over water, but through fairway. Sand wedge to uphill green. Just missed 12-15 foot birdie; tapped in for par.

Hole 6 361 yards par 4. Downhill with OB left, water hazard at about 295 left and another at 240 right. Hit hybrid to avoid both, but hit it low and it right and it ran into weeds by hazard. Took unplayable lie with stroke penalty. Hit 9 iron stiff to 4 feet, made par putt.

Hole 7 173 yards par 3. Playing about 165, with bunker in front of green. Pulled seven iron a bit, left very tough downhill, left-to-right, 3-footer which I missed. Shortest putt I missed for the whole tournament, but one of only two less than 5 feet that I missed.

Hole 8 524 yards par 5. Drove right, laid up with 6 or 7 iron, 58-degree wedge to 12-15 feet. Left slippery birdie putt 2 inches short for tap-in par.

Hole 9 406 yards par 4. Drive to about 150, caught eight iron to shot slightly heavy uphill green. Chipped to about twelve feet below hole (hole was atop ridge). Left putt three inches short, tapped in for bogey. Out in 39, in in 39, +6 78 for day, +15 160 for tournament for a tie for 74. Missed cut by 3 strokes.

Giving the State Mid-Am Another Shot

Next week is the annual MGA State Mid-Amateur golf tournament, being held at Minnesota Valley Country Club and Montgomery Golf Club. I entered last year and placed 133rd out of 240 golfers (including withdrawals and DQs). My goals going into these things is always to 1) not finish last, and 2) not embarrass myself.

This year I'm going to add one more goal: to hit every shot with complete focus and dedication. With my mental game, I don't think I have a prayer of accomplishing that, but I'm going to try.

Last year, out of 240 entrants, I ranked tied for 225th in handicap. This year I'm taking a 5.6 index into the tournament, good enough for a tie for 198th with one other out of 213 entrants. I hope the drop in field size (the last two years both had full fields of 240) isn't a trend, like the corporate softball tournaments I wrote about last month. I think it's likely due to how far apart the two host courses are, and how un-"famous" the Montgomery course is. Not that the MVCC is famous, but it is a nice, private club, which is often the appeal of these tournaments - you get to play a course you otherwise couldn't without connections.

The contestants include at least one former Minnesota Gopher Hockey star, the brother of a British Open champion, a former Drake University golf teammate of Masters Champion Zach Johnson, numerous past and present Minnesota Gopher golf team members, the 2004 Twin Cities Golf Tour Player of the Year (heh heh), and the namesake of the guy who composed the music to the Toy Story movies and the 1970s hit "Short People."

I would love to set a goal of making the cut (top 60 plus ties make the cut and play the final round), but the problem with that is it would put my focus on my cumulative score, instead of each shot at hand, which is a surefire way to play horribly.

The guys I'm matched with for the two days have handicap indexes of 0.0 and 2.1. Even if I don't play well, at least I can maybe learn a thing or two.

One other goal: I love these tournaments, but this year I vow to enjoy it more than any other MGA tournament I've played in.

The first tee jitters start next Monday at 12:30 PM at the MVCC. On the plus side, there is no OB or hazard in play on hole one - only trees. My nerves can handle the prospect of starting the tournament by blasting one in the wrong fairway or into the woods. OB stakes are an entirely different story.

A Couple Things Bugging this Ex-Radio Jock and Sports Announcer

Twins announcers Dan Gladden and John Gordon (again): The other day (I think it was Monday), Wrench and Puker were gabbing from the start of and throughout Jason Kubel's at bat about - get this irony - classic baseball announcers. Herb Carneal was mentioned, along with a long line of New York, Baltimore, and Cleveland announcers over the years, whom they did not name, nor share any real insight as to what they thought made these announcers great.

I certainly agreed with them on the props to Carneal, but then the irony of the subject matter was driven home when Gladden interrupted the boredom and said, "Here's the 3-1 pitch to Kubel."

Yes, four pitches had been thrown to Kubel, complete with crowd reactions, and the sound of the catcher's mitt popping, with the listener only able to guess what was happening on the diamond, before Gladden stopped to actually call a play.

Perhaps the pop of the catcher's mitt I thought I heard was the sound of Carneal rolling over.

KDWB's Dave Ryan and Gary Spivey (again): Dave took a call from a "truther" yesterday morning, and I was at first thankful when Ryan put the truther in his place. To my dismay, however, Ryan admitted to the truther that he hasn't done a lick of research on the claims these nuts are making, never heard of WTC building #7 collapsing, and that he has no time for the subject other than to simply dismiss it all out of hand, calling them all crazy nut-jobbers (or words to that effect) for believing this nonsense.

Hey, I'll agree with him on that last point, but only because I've read up on it, and have come to that conclusion logically. Dave, however, simply mocked and ridiculed the bunch, and in a moment of even more irony than the Gladden/Gordon incident, referred to his experience working with alleged psychic Gary Spivey to support his position.

Note to Dave: I realize part of your rant was a "bit," an act, and just a way to get more laughs from people thinking, "Oh , there goes Dave again." But seriously, using Gary Spivey, the guy who proclaims to exercise demons over the phone and radio airwaves, to drive home your point about other people believing ridiculous things, makes your IQ appear well below triple digits.

As a former radio announcer, I'm thinking maybe that estimate is a little high.

Watching Baseball on Vacation

Here I am at White Birch timeshares in Breezy Point, MN, after playing five rounds of golf so far, the weather has been super, fishing was great, and I still have six days before I have to go back to work, and all I am inspired to do is blog about yet another laughable display of ineptitude by a Major League Baseball umpire crew.

First: In the top of the sixth inning, with one out, they correctly call an out on a catch by Michael Cuddyer off the bat of Ramon Castro. But the ball moved a little in Cuddyer's glove, Ozzie Guillen appealed to the umps, and Castro was awarded a double.

Second: In the bottom of the sixth, Jason Kubel was up with the bases loaded and two outs, and had a 3-1 count. He took ball four, even by old school National League standards, yet the ump called strike two. (A little like the one that, admittedly, ended the game in the Twins' favor the other night against Texas, only Kubel's take wasn't as close.)

Fortunately for the Twins (and the umpire crew, if they have any pride, which is questionable the way things have gone this year), Brian Duensing pitched out of the sixth and Kubel singled in two runs, foiling Guillen's strategy of intentionally walking Justin Mourneau just before. Mourneau, IMHO, would have been the easier out, but that's kind of the way it's gone over the years for Guillen in the Metrodome.

I've noted it before - Major League umpires have it too easy, while seeming to have such a hard time of it. Balls and strikes should never go this route, but for plays like the Cuddyer catch, it is high time for instant replay in baseball.

No Last Hurrah

This past weekend was supposed to be my swan song in "competitive" slow pitch softball. I was to have played at the Minnesota USSSA Corporate State Championship with a collection of talented ballplayers, most of whom played on the multiple league championship-winning Eagan corporate team, The Militia, plus a few others, a couple of whom were teammates of mine on state and world championship-winning teams. Sort of a Dream Team if you don't mind my saying so.

But the tournament never happened. Rain out, you might guess. Nope. Lack of interest.
I don't know if it was an exaggeration, but I was told two teams signed up. For the State Championship.

I'm sure I will compete again some day, like when I'm 50, perhaps at the 40+ level (because of foolish pride, refusing to accept that I'm getting old, no doubt), and probably sub one ceremonious game per year with work colleagues until then, but I am officially retired (again, for real) from playing against the young punks. I will not pull another Brett Favre. (Yes, I know Mr. Bentsen, Brett Favre was a friend of yours and I am no Brett Favre, but I'm just talking about the un-retiring part...the comparison stops there.)

So the previous four weeks I spent actually working on my swing with a batting tee again, something I did religiously as recently as 2002, plus the workouts with the free weights to get my strength back up, went for naught.

This is very sad. I have in front of me the Minnesota USSSA annual Guidebooks from 1992, 2002, 2003, and 2008. Here are the number of teams entered in the Corporate Championships for the previous years per each Guidebook:

1991 - Class A: 11; Class B: 11, Class C: 43!
2001 - Class B: 7 (won by my team, The Norms; interest in Class A had dwindled to the point of no more Class A tournament starting in 2001); "Recreational" Class (No longer calling it "C"): 16
2002 - Class B: 5 (The Norms took 2nd that year, but went on to win Worlds in Panama City, FL); Recreational:12
2007 - Down to one class only; 7 teams

So now, two years later, only two teams signed up, and the tournament was therefore cancelled. I have multiple theories as to what has caused the drop in interest, and it probably cannot be pinned down to one or two reasons, although admittedly I've lost touch with the game in recent years, so it is largely unsupported conjecture on my part.

I think technology is still largely the culprit, plus any combination of factors, such as different lifestyles today, and just a general change in the landscape of "corporate" softball. Ironically, I like what they did with the technology aspect in Eagan league play, using lower compression balls, which my old single wall hit just about as hard as the new-fangled composites. But I also think the State and Local associations are to blame, and I don't like how the combination Sports Bar/Softball Complexes seem to have taken over, or at least become so prevalent.

It's extremely disappointing, and I'd like to comment further in future blog entries. But I'll end this one by commenting on an earlier statement, that I'd like to return to perhaps play 40+ softball someday again:

According to the 1992 Guidebook, the state 40+ tournament of 1991 had 20 teams competing. In 2001 and 2002, it was 12 for both. In 2007, only 7 competed.

I guess if I want to be part of another State championship-winning team someday, I can't get old quickly enough.

Too Lazy to Really Blog

So many things to Blog about, so little time, or desire. So I'll just write them down so I don't forget them, in case even one subject "makes the cut" and I find a half hour to spend on it.

- Favre to the Vikings
- MLB umps sucking again
- Mauer .400 talk resurfacing
- State Corporate Softball tournament cancelled for lack of interest (WHAT?? There were three divisions not ten years ago, with no problem filling the field at the "B" and "C" levels)
- Town Halls (and the lies an unfathomable amount of people believe about universal health care)
- My sons are driving me up the flippin' wall right now, and literally laughing at me as I try to discipline them
- My thoughts on the PGA Championship after being there for two days
- My golf game (my latest "fix")
- My 3-year-old son's 34 MPH golf swing

Boy, if that list doesn't inspire me to write something soon, then...neither will a box of nightcrawlers, or something.

Up Too Early for No Reason

I have absolutely nothing to say right now, although I do plan on a PGA Championship experience update soon. I went out for Monday's practice round, and could have posted something about that, but I am going again tomorrow and will wait until that's over with.

It figures the day I'm up at 5:30 with less than five hours of sleep is the day my wife is attending the PGA early to get some good looks at Tiger Woods. At least if I sleep in tomorrow, most of the guys I want to follow, including Tiger, tee off in the afternoon. But I did want to get a round in myself before heading off to Shakopee (to catch the bus to Chaska).

Oh well, here I sit...to stare at the ceiling until the boys wake up, or blog about absolutely nothing? Maybe a little bit of both, until I, hopefully, bore myself to sleep to get maybe an extra hour of it.

Harry Must be Proud (Not)

I'll try to make this brief. I have made some of my opinions about MLB umpires known here before, and right now do not really feel the need to rehash a great deal.

Let me also preface my post with this: it is not about winning or losing because of the umpires.

OK, that said, it is time for MLB to use replays on more than just home run calls. The egos of the umpires, and union protection to boot, are too strong. Throw in riding Daddy's coat tails into a career, and you get the comfort level of someone who is too lazy to try to call a good game, not man enough to admit it (100% corrct? Yuh-huh...), and a huge black eye on the reputation of the game.

Two "red flags" a game would be a good system to experiment with. Each umpire gets two red flags to throw during the game to challenge calls. You lose the challenge, you lose the flag. No more than four challenges allowed per nine innings, however (games are long enough).

Again, this is about the integrity of the game, a subject I am especially sensitive to since taking Clark Griffith's Sports Law class in law school.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm referrring to the latest in the Ron Gardenhire v. Hunter Wendelstedt saga. Google it if you don't know. I promised to keep this short.

First-Time Seller on eBay

After nearly ten years of buying on eBay, I have finally posted something to sell. Whether this is the seed to my entrepreneurial future, I do not know. (I doubt it.)

Last year, I purchased two full grounds passes to the 2009 PGA Championship. Between my wife and me, we plan on using only the Monday practice round, Thursday round, and Friday round tickets. Saturday is "moving day," and of course Sunday is the final round (weather permitting), so hopefully those will sell at a decent price. I started both pairs at $120 with a "Buy it Now" price of $200. I'll be paying the USPS Priority shipping, nice guy that I am.

If we can fetch close to $400 for the two pairs, that will be nice. It will be worth going to Monday's round, my wife and her mother going Thursday (and seeing/stalking Tiger), and I with a friend (and perhaps my oldest son...kids get in free) on Friday for a net cost of $200 or so.

If it ends up costing more, oh well. The money was spent a year ago, so it'll "feel" like free money when the tickets sell, for whatever they end up going. Sorta like a tax refund...sorta. But they have to sell first.

Plus, the experience will be worth it. I've got an old softball bat that is illegal to use in today's game, but would still probably go for a cool $100. I have some 20-year-old bodybuilding magazines as well, including the rare Bob Paris "coming out" issue of Muscle & Fitness. (What? You don't remember that one?)

Then there's the baseball cards, postage stamps, DVDs....time will tell if selling my PGA tickets creates an eBay selling monster out of me. I'll settle for it paying for my golf habit.

Better than Pro-V1*?

With many of the major golf retailers having sales on golf balls, I took the pleasure in trying out a new brand and model recently. I finally got to play it Sunday at the Wilds in Prior Lake.

The ball I tried is the Bridgestone B330-S. I've been pretty loyal to the Titleist Pro-V1* over the years, but am always willing to try new ones. I like the Callaway Tour i and Tour i-x line, among others, but always seem to go back to the Pro-V1*.

I may, however, stick with the B330-S for a while. I had a nice round going with my Pro-V1*, but after back-to-back doubles on 14 and 15 (two of the three most poorly designed holes on the course, IMHO), I found my nice round turning into an average round.

So I pulled out the B330-S on the drive-able par four 16th, drove the greenside bunker left of the green, and got up and down for bird. On the par five 17th, I hit what should have been a dreadful, low, snap-hook OB, but the ball didn't hook nearly as much as I was expecting after I hit it. I was able to lay up on my second shot, knock a wedge to the green, and two-putt for par.

On the tough finishing par four 18th, a flushed a 3-wood about 290 (slightly aided by a soft breeze), and knocked a wedge to ten feet, which I made to complete the round birdie-par-birdie, and finish with a nice 77.

What I loved about the ball, as evidenced on all three holes, was the lack of spin on the driver and 3-wood (for example, the 290-yard 3-wood was probably only about 250 yards of carry). The wedges I hit with it felt wonderfully soft, and they grabbed the greens perfectly. Further, unlike with the brand-new Pro-V1* on the very first hole, the grooves on the wedges didn't mutilate the cover.

This ball is designed exactly for my game. On the Bridgestone site, it says it is for swing speeds between 103 and 115 mph. The Pro-V1*, on the other hand, may actually be better suited for longer hitters than I normally am, and I've found the regular Pro-V1 to spin too much for my taste. My average driver swing is 105-110, depending on the wind. ("When it's breezy, swing easy.")

(I top out at 120 when I really go for it, but that's about once every four rounds; 125 on the range is the absolute best I can do, but I look awfully silly doing it.)

I recommend going to the site and trying their online ball-fitting resource. I give a huge thumbs up for this ball, but of course, like the guy who is batting .500 after 72 at-bats, it's too early to get too excited. I'll keep you updated.

Give Me One Large Enough, and I Can Move the World

We white collar types who sit in too many meetings each day all have our pet peeves, but I am really beginning to hate the word "leverage," particularly when used as a verb.

Leverage as a business term is fine as a metaphorical noun. Usually. If you are utilizing something as a tool with which to gain leverage, i.e., multiply your power/ability to perform a task, it works just fine to say you've gained leverage.

Leverage should not be used as a word to simply replace the word "use." Or should I say, it should not be leveraged to simply replace the word "use."

"Let's leverage that spreadsheet to improve the process." Uggh.

I guess I should be thankful I have a job that pays me relatively well, and allows me to use such language, excuse me, leverage such language, without having to actually add any intellect to my intelligence-based (allegedly) job.

I think I'll call a meeting to brainstorm around this a little more.

More Mauer Thoughts

With Joe Mauer's average down to .384 (before going 1-for-2 so far tonight), I am compelled to note an observation or two.

Part of the reason he is "slumping" is that he has lost just over 1% of his strength since he came off the DL.

How do I figure?

Consider tonight he hit a double off the top of the wall in left. A month ago, that ball lands in the second row. Of course, that helped his average, but last night he flew out to that same wall. A month ago, that ball lands in row one.

We're talking about as little as a four-foot difference in power. Those four feet cost him two home runs in as many nights. That's just a little over 1% on a 370-foot-or-so fly ball.

Some wise physics guy might correct my math, and calculate the actual percentage of strength necessary to equate 1% in distance. But you get the idea.

Some wise guy might also suggest that maybe he just didn't "get" those two pitches. I dunno...I have seen him fly out deep to the opposite field quite a bit lately. I can't help but wonder how many more home runs or doubles he would have had he not lost that 1%.

(Right now, Mauer just singled to left, and is 2-for-3 on the night.)

I look at it as more evidence Mauer doesn't use steroids (not that I needed any). More than just helping build muscle, steroids help maintain it by eliminating the effects of "over-training." Mauer got stronger while resting from his injuries. Now that he is playing and traveling long and odd hours (cutting into vital sleep, no doubt), he is likely losing some of that strength.

Twins' TV commentator Roy Smalley had a nice-sounding theory about Mauer's early-season power surge, which was basically that sometimes good hitters just "find their swing" that turns deep flies into home runs, almost subconsciously, without even trying. I like my theory better.

One thing's for sure, and I noticed this when I saw him fly out deep to left twice against Boston at the dome earlier this year: if Mauer were ever to play for the Bosox while still in his prime, he'd be a surefire .400 hitter. All three of the fly outs I've mentioned tonight (plus the double), and many others I've seen this year, would have at least clanked off the Big Green Monster, if not cleared it altogether.

OK, maybe not "surefire," because he wouldn't have the advantage of artificial turf-aided singles. It would be interesting to anecdotally tally how many Green Monster hits Mauer loses in the dome, vs. hits gained from the turf.

Let's hope that deal never happens, though. Boston has taken many of our pro sports heroes; but Mauer was home-grown, so I don't think it will.

(Update: Of course, a half hour later, Mauer just hit one in the third row to left field. I stubbornly contend that would have been row five a month or two ago. At least I've anti-jinxed him now. (But re-jinxed him with that comment.))

Does Grandma Have Caller ID?

I just saw a story on the news about a young woman facing felony charges for alleged prank calls she made to her grandmother. Forty-five of them.

"We were bored one night," she said, and at the time thought it would be fun. Things like death threats...yeah, a real hoot.

I did something similar, once. Something the neighbor kids remembered for years, and every time people hear the story, they laugh like it's the most hilarious thing they ever heard. There are many to this day who remember me pretty much only for being the kid who did this.

I egged my own house.

(Let's pause a bit while you clean up the Coke Zero off your monitor.)

Now, to be fair to myself, I was about six I suppose, and didn't quite understand what it meant to egg a house, nor the difficulty in cleaning up the mess. Some random person had done it, and I thought it would be funny.

What's not funny about breaking eggs for reasons other than cooking or baking? Don't you crack a smile just thinking about Ralph Macchio taking an egg to the face as he danced with Elisabeth Shue in "The Karate Kid?"

I'm sure my dad wasn't too proud of me, but unlike phone-prank lady, I learned my lesson young. And it was only one egg.

Jesus H. Mauer!!

OK, so after a few oh-fers, the Mauer Number is now -5. I would link to the post from where the Mauer Number comes, but I post so infrequently these days, you'll find it just below the post below this one.

When the number hits -10, I won't keep track of it anymore. Kind of like in 1982 when the St. Paul Pioneer Press kept track of the Twins vs. the 1962 New York Mets. For a while, it looked like the Twinkees would match the Miserable Mets' record for futility, but eventually, the Twins started playing near-.500 ball, so the Press stopped the daily comparisons, and even offered the local nine their apologies for doing it.

I may need to apologize for jinxing Mauer. Even though SI put him on the cover, and he was batting .407 at press time, and has since tanked to .386, I know it was the Snide Jinx that really got him.

Hopefully this post will un-jinx him, and he'll go 5-for-5 tonight to get back to .400 (above, actually). I'll settle for 9-for-the-next-15, or 13-for-the-next-25; that'll still get the job done.

(For the record, I do not believe in jinxes of any sort...I just felt I should post more than, "Looks like that .400 talk was premature, like I predicted. Oh well.")

A Breakup About Which I Could Not Care Less

The most boring, unimportant couple I know of is Jon and Kate. No, I do not feel sorry for their kids. Unlike my first three kids, who saw their parents divorce while they were young, Jon and Kate's kids' parents became wealthy by airing out their dirty laundry to fools with nothing better to do but watch them.

Wish I could've gotten in on some of that.

I find it funny that people say they feel sorry for the kids. Had these folks not watched the damn show, the kids would have lived in anonymity, and perhaps Kate would not have seen the dollar signs that led to this mess.

Yes, I blame Kate more than Jon, from what very little I know about them. From what I accidentally saw, he looked miserable, and she looked greedy.

I almost hate even mentioning them by name in principle. I won't watch their show by choice. I turned off CBS's morning show this morning when they mentioned them.

I wonder if the people who criticize Octomom for alleged Jon & Kate-like ambitions are by and large Jon & Kate's audience. Shame on us all. That's all I care to comment, ever.

Baby Jesus at the Bat

There's a tongue-in-cheek nickname for Joe Mauer, presumably started by someone at KFAN radio: "Baby Jesus." It was, I think, meant originally as a jab at the local homers who praised Joe Mauer rabidly before he truly proved himself.

The rabid homers may get the last laugh.

I have no dislike for homers, as long as they recognize their own homerism and can separate their own rooting for a player v. actual logical argument. In that regard, I am one myself.

Anyway, young as the season may be, even moreso for Mauer, who missed April due to injury, it is becoming much like the summer of 1977 was for me.

That year, although the Twins contended early, I spent most of the season cheering for one Rodney Cline Carew as he chased a .400 batting average (alas, he finished the season at .388).

Back then, you got 50 televised games, all but about four being road games, and there were no Internets (at least not that everyday folk could use to get everyday information, for all you dweebs who were about to correct me).

A key tool to follow Sir Rodney, then, was the morning newspaper boxscores. Now, with virtually all of the games televised, and the Internet on my lap to provide me more complete boxscores, plus game logs, pitch-by-pitch action, etc., the dynamics of following Mauer's quest to .400 are different, but fun nevertheless.

I admit the Messiah's chase for .400 is likely to end up much the same as Carew in 1977, George Brett in 1980, and Carew again with the Angels in 1983. Below .400, that is. (And yes, Carew had a chase at .400 in 1983, which lasted even longer into the year than '77. You can look it up.)

Tonight, as the Twins try to hold on to their 10-0 lead, Mauer is 2-for-4 with a walk, making him 54-for-130, and bringing his average to .415.

You know the Magic Number the media use to indicate how close a team is to winning their division? I have come up with a Mauer Number.

The Mauer Number is a positive number, a negative number, or zero. Right now it is a plus-five. That means Baby J is batting over .400, and can go hitless in his next five at bats and still be batting .400. A negative number would mean he is batting below .400, and needs to have that number of consecutive hits to get his average back up to .400.

If you need me to explain what a Mauer Number of zero means, please seek remedial reading and/or math coursework as soon as possible.

May the Healing Begin

The memorial for my father-in-law was yesterday. It was a week after the private viewing, which in some ways was too long a wait. Knowing a full week you're going to go through an emotional day can be difficult.

On the other hand, I think it helps getting to closure and peace by having an additional gathering of people and emotions after letting some of the realization sink in.

He passed May 28, the private viewing was May 31, and the public ceremony was June 6. As tough as the gap was on family, I think going forward, they will be able to heal more quickly, especially after all of the wonderful memories and stories shared yesterday.

At least I hope that's what will happen.

A Sad Day

This past Thursday, after coming home from softball, I was greeted at the door by my wife's aunt, a strange man (strange as in not familiar to me), and my sobbing wife. I knew immediately something was horribly wrong.

My wife's father had passed away, at only 59 years old. While I never got to know him under the surface, I have plenty of grief from knowing what my wife, her mom, her brother and sister, her aunts, and her grandparents.

No one should ever have to bury a child. I can't imagine the magnitude of such grief.

It will also be difficult talking to our two boys, who loved running downstairs to jump on his lap and watch TV or play video games with their "Bepa." He loved them right back more than they'll ever get to know.

They've both already asked about where he is. The two-year-old may eventually lose any recollection of him, which is part sad, and part good I guess. The three-and-a-half year-old will likely remember him, and will be confused I'm sure.

I'm going to do some surfing on the Net for advice on how to communicate to young children about such a loss. Do you even do it for kids that young?

My God, they're talking about him right now as they finish their breakfast. The two year-old is calling for him as I type.

Rest in peace, Bepa.

Waking up After Falling Asleep with the Toddler

It's been 12 days (13, actually, as it is past midnight) since I've last posted. I just haven't found, or rather made, the time to do it. Blogging is not the only thing I haven't done as much of lately.

Part of the reason is that most of my personal Internet use is late at night when the boys are asleep, but my wife and I are breaking our 3 1/2-year-old son in to sleeping in his own bed - what we call his "big boy bed" as we attempt to entice him into sleeping in it regularly. The name is meant to distinguish the crib from a toddler bed.

When we first took him out of his crib and put his younger brother in it (who turned two today, or rather yesterday...happy birthday Hen-Hen!), we had to lie by him until he fell asleep. That got old, so we had him sleep with us in our bed for a year or so. Now it's time to finally get him in the "big boy bed," but so far it's only working when we again lie by him until he is out. This typically means I too fall asleep, and thus, no late night TV, Internet use, etc. Tonight I woke up and decided to touch base with the rest of the world online before slipping off to bed for good.

There is a bit of controversy surrounding whether you should let your toddler sleep with you and for how long. I personally find nothing wrong with doing it for several years until the child lets you know they are ready for there own bed, but that doesn't mean I want to be doing that. Hopefully, it won't be long before he is ready to lie in his own bed and fall asleep without one of us by his side.

By "several years," I don't mean until the child is 16...or anything near that.

Getting Old

I turned 43 Sunday. Birthdays are kind of cool, but I'm really not much of a holiday or "special annual day" kind of guy. I like events and happenings, so Christmas is fun because of the get-togethers. Thanksgiving dinner is always great. But I'd just as soon do without the vast majority of the obligatory purchases that come with holidays and "special annual days."

(Speaking of which, I would happily tell my wife she doesn't have to give me a Father's Day present in June if I don't have to buy her a Mother's Day gift this weekend. Oh, I'll go the extra mile...breakfast in bed and all that. But spending money just because, well, that's what people do? Ughh.)

So I sit here and ponder what to write about being 43, and nothing comes to mind. A birthday truly is just another day.

OK, one thing does come to mind. I still only feel about 25. That's a good thing I guess. I'm about 15 pounds heavier than I was when I was 25, my back gets more stiff after softball games, stays stiff longer, my left knee is showing some signs of aging (but still functions at 99% for most things I want it to do), and of course the gray hairs seem to be more present on my lap each time I get a haircut.

Actually, because I do feel wiser than I did at 25, I'd more accurately say I feel about 29. But physically, it's a few years younger than that.

Whenever I go upstairs at home, I don't limp, I don't walk...I run. Literally, sometimes with speed in mind, as in trying to see how fast I can do it.

As long as I have the ability to run up the stairs, I will feel young physically. As long as I have the desire to, I will feel young mentally.

See You Later, Gator

My wife and I hoped to see a gator on our recent golf trip to Myrtle Beach. We saw two at the Heritage Club, the #33 public course in America in 2009 according to Golf Digest. We saw them in and by the lake that borders the par 5 eighteenth hole (which I parred with a fine drive, well-placed lay-up, soft lob wedge to the green, and nearly-holed birdie putt). To the right is what it looked like from a distance.

Here is what it looked like when my wife risked making me a single dad by taking snapshots of it from ten feet away :

While she was not holding up any group behind us (we were a two-some playing between groups of four), I started scolding her after about 30 seconds of this. This particular animal was docile; asleep perhaps even. But one quick move, and I might have been a widower. Or at least a man with a one-legged wife.

What in the name of Chubbs Peterson was she thinking?

Falling Behind While on Vacation

I am keying this entry poolside in Myrtle Beach (actually, Surfside Beach), South Carolina. Despite being on vacation, I had expected to get more posting done, but it was all I could do to keep up on e-mail deleting an hour each day, which is what I set my online daily limit at.

So while I'm thinking of it, but without the time to do it, here are some subjects I want to write about upon returning home:

1) How awful my golf game was
2) How fun the golf was
3) Why I won't post handicap scores from my vacation to GHIN
4) A trick I learned in my youth and shared with my son
5) Turning 43
6) North Myrtle Beach fires
7) Un-retiring from softball again
8) "The Wrestler"

Thank you and good night. My time is up.

Grand Strand Bound

My wife and I depart tomorrow from MSP to Myrtle Beach, the Grand Strand, the Redneck Riviera. I love the place, even though, as I've said here before, Minnesota is as good as any place for golf. But with the ocean, the sheer volume of quality courses, and change of scenery, I like to head down there every couple of years or so.

This year, the scenery flying in will be interesting, what with the wildfires in the North Myrtle Beach area. They've been widely, but somewhat innacurately, reported on. It's been a terrible tragedy for sure for many families, but by some accounts you'd think the whole Strand was burning down.

I'll report from our condo room as time permits. My wife is letting me bring my laptop, and I can check work e-mails for 1/2 hour per night, but that's it. Blogging availability is still being negotiated.

One regret is I will miss this year's softball opener next Thursday. Yes, I've un-retired again.

Sliding Into First Again (No, I'm Not Letting It Rest)

During the encore presentation of the Jason Kubel show tonight (Twins win again over the Angels), I saw Carlos Gomez make it safely to first because of a high throw. The play reminded me of another argument in favor of sliding head-first into first base (by speedsters who know how to do it...not the Kubels or Morneaus of the world).

I didn't present this in my previous post on the subject, but a work colleague and I have discussed it and agree the argument that safety is a primary reason not to slide into first is weak, if not entirely misguided. We think first base is in fact the safest of the three to slide head-first into. Our reasoning:

1) Second and Third are too easy to over-slide. No issues at first.
2) Home plate is most likely going to be blocked by hard plastic armor.

But what's more, and this is the clincher for me, I've personally witnessed badly-sprained ankles by people who hit the bag wrong. Of course, like I say about sliding, one has to "know how to do it," but unlike sliding head-first, you don't always have the luxury of using what you "know" when hitting the bag, because you never know how long that last stride is going to be until, well, that last stride. My son came close to spraining his ankle for this very reason in his last game. Tonight, we saw Gomez hobble a bit after landing on the bag a little awkwardly.

(Fortunately, he was well enough to then steal second, only to get called out, ironically, because his head-first slide into second caused him to over-slide the bag, thus requiring to reach back and touch the bag. He did, successfully, but the umpire inexpilicably called him out. What in Hades the umpire was watching in calling Go-Go out at second, I have no idea. More evidence that major league umpires are overpaid.)

I've yet to see anyone writher in pain after a headfirst slide into first the way a teammate of mine did at State some six years ago after hitting the bag wrong. That said, I suppose I wouldn't want my hand on the bag when someone like Prince Fielder is coming back down to earth after snaring a high throw.

Nothing's perfect I guess...

Confused

I heard this term used tonight: "The lower 48." This is supposedly in reference to the "Continental United States," meaning every one but Alaska and Hawaii.

Except Hawaii is the lowest of all states, if by "low" one means "southern." Minnesota is the second "highest" state then.

How did that term ever come to be?

Easter Fun

I enjoy Jim Gaffigan's take on Easter (Youtube it if you're unfamiliar. Or maybe on Comedycentral.com). I think he could have expanded it, however. My own experience is that for the brief 3 minutes of excitement the toddlers enjoy, the rest is horrendous.

It's like Halloween without the fun. Just a pile of candy all at once. Then they don't want to eat Easter dinner - just the candy. And then they get everything sticky and chocolatey and everything-elsey. All to celebrate the one who died for our sins coming out of the ground, although he never really died, as he was his own all-powerful dad all along; and trust me, he will return again any day now.

I'm not making fun of the religion, so please don't scream blasphemy. I just think the religion is confusing enough for kids to learn and accept; you don't need to add giant, scary rabbits hiding painted eggs and marshmallow chicks to the mix until they can handle the scary religion part first. And keep their grubby hands off the furniture.

Return Trip to MOA: Lost Something Again

My wife and I took the kids to Nickelodeon Universe at the Mall of America again over the weekend. This time it was the four oldest kids, with the youngest (almost two years old) staying at home with Grandma. As you may have read, the last time we went to the Mall, we lost our three-year-old.

This time no one was lost, including my nine-year-old's friend who came along, as well as my fourteen-year-old's friend. Had any of their parents read my blog, I'm sure they wouldn't have permitted the kids to come along, at least not under my supervision.

I did, however, lose something of value again this time, although of significantly less value than a three-year-old son. I received a call from the Mall lost-and-found yesterday saying they found a check with my name on it. I verified who I was, and they said they would mail the check back to me. It was from Aetna, a repayment, via our Flexible Spending Account through work, of a deductible from a recent doctor visit, in the amount of $40.

A kid is worth at least five, maybe ten times that, don't you think? But I'm still glad to get it back.

So to all of this garbage I hear about how horrible the Mall of America is, I say phooey. My last two times there I've lost a child and money, and both have been (or will have been) returned to me unharmed and unspent.

They're even covering the cost of the stamp.

Bowling and Golf Geek Stuff

It's U.S. Open week on the Professional Bowlers Tour. As much as I enjoy and prefer golf as a pasttime, bowling has a special place in my heart, and if I'm honest, is really my better game.

Some 20 years ago I made a statement to a friend, and fellow bowler and golfer, that I was better at golf than bowling. He didn't buy it, saying he saw me do both, and wasn't impressed by the golfer in me.

He was right; it was more wishful thinking on my part. When I graduated high school, I barely lettered in golf, but I was the school's top bowler. Furthermore, I didn't really narrow the gap between the two avocations until recent years.

One way to compare the two today could be to see if I have what it takes to play in each game's top open tournament. If I wanted to play in the U.S. Open golf tournament, I would need a USGA handicap index of no higher than 1.4, and that would merely be to qualify to play in the first of two qualifying stages. My current index is 4.3, and has never been better than 3.8

To compete in the US Open in bowling, I need to have averaged 190 in league play in any one of the past five seasons, for a minimum of 21 games. After taking several years off from league bowling, I joined part-time this year, and am averaging 207.9 for 30 games.

That would seem to indicate that I didn't narrow the gap at all, and that the gap perhaps has even grown wider.

It doesn't tell the whole story, however. For one thing, supply and demand makes the standards of qualifying much lower for bowling. There are only 412 bowlers competing in the US Open this week, while thousands enter the USGA Open every year.

Secondly, and I'll build this point with an example, my best ever round of golf in relation to par, a 70 on the par 71 Carroll (Iowa) Municipal Golf Course several years ago, was actually almost four strokes "worse" than the 74 I shot from the tips at Emerald Greens' Platinum and Silver nines last year. This is because the United States Golf Association "rates" and "slopes" courses to account for degree of difficulty, and the USGA Handicap Index is calculated with those factors built in to the formula.

Bowling has no such rating of bowling centers. Thus, the 180 average I maintained at the Alley Cat lanes in Ortonville, MN several years ago, goes simply as a 180 average. Compare this to my 195 average at Minnehaha Lanes the year before, and one would think I suddenly got worse. In actuality, the two averages were comparable, because of how much more difficult the Alley Cat was to score at. But there is no "rating" or "slope" for bowling, and in lieu of this, the PBA/BPAA keeps a lower requirement for the bowlers who have little choice but to bowl at a difficult house in rural areas (plus, I should mention, those who choose to bowl on intentionally more difficult "sport" conditions available in some leagues).

One thing the two sports' national opens do have in common: Anyone who barely meets the minimum qualifications to fork over the entry fee and take a chance has virtually zero chance of even coming close to make the next stage in golf or make the cut-line in bowling.

Still, one of my lifetime ambitions is to enter both tournaments, just for the experience. If that's going to happen, I'll need to sharpen up the golf game before Old Man Time catches up with me.