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Monday, October 08, 2007


Sun City South

6774 yds, Par 72, Slope 115, by Greg Nash, I reckon.

They Say: "South Golf Course is located south of Grand Avenue. This is a beautiful 18 hole facility known for its flatness and length, with plush greens throughout the course. There is a full service Grill and Deli on site that serves breakfast, lunch and an assortment of beverages. The Pro Shop has a wide variety of clothing and accessories that are available for purchase. Tee times can be reserved up to five days in advance to make your scheduling easier."

Opened in 1962, so, um, it's Old Phoenix, in a grassy, california way rather than Modern Arizona Xeriscape . . . Played with Mrs Cactus and Mr Science. We all walked . . . it was very pleasurable, temperature wise, even at mid-morning . . . I had mixed expectations: hadn't played since we played in a Friday Afternoon Tournament out at Kokopelli, so I expected to be rusty, but then, I knew this course would be wide open, flat, available, if you know what I mean, despite the subtleties Nash has learned to introduce into his designs, after so many! This being one of the early ones, would lack some of those, be more, um, muni-like, if you see what I mean.

I mean, I think we both would say it was better than Maryvale, or Encanto, but it still cannot be a 3, not really.

I think the greens most put off Mr Science; I guffawed with dis-belief when he told me how many putts he'd had -- he keeps those stats, you know -- seeks to "improve" himself with them, you know.

I paraphrase the great Dublin club-pro, Oscar Wilde, when he said, "Anyone who knows their game must have a very limited game, inDEED!" . . . 8^D . . .

I suppose I could count my putts up afterward, in my head, replaying my round, which is what I do instead of counting sheep, but not on that course . . . all the holes look like all the other holes, and all the other holes look like all the other holes in all the courses in Sun City, Sun City Grande, and Sun City West -- so I lose count. There's not enough difference to hang my memory on.
I liked the par 4 #12 the best, it had the most unique appearance: the landing area was squeezed by trees on the left, and a large mounded bunker on the right. It might be the only hole on the course where one has to be careful, but one does have to be careful there.

So, altho' the greens put Mr Science off, I feel so disoriented, already, with my putting-in-new-glasses now, that I felt relatively comfortable, if you see how I mean, and, so, mysteriously confident, I proceeded to shoot lights out on the front 9: even par 36 with 2 birdies. I can't remember a thing about them. Then I "blew up" to a 42 on the back . . . even an hour after we finished, when we three were sitting in Flo's on Thompson Peak, eating our $5 Saturday Specials, I still kept pounding the table, going, "A Crappy 78! That Crappy 42! @#%@#%@#$@#%!!!!!"

At one point Mr Science said to me, "Boy, you are striping your drives today!" and I was, and putting well, and hitting some irons well, too . . . almost like you dream of that your whole game will come together at the same time, if you know what I mean?

So Mr Science "ballooned" himself to an 81 . . . he blamed his putting, but I think it might have been his distance control -- normally one of his strong suits, doncha know.

So all day at work today, I was looking to tell someone about my 36 on the front9. The Defenestrator wasn't in the office; Clinton the Ace's office was dark all day, too; The Z-Dog wasn't to be found, I started telling some of the women around me and their eyes just rolled up into their heads -- they don't play golf.

So I had to go over to Mr Science and tell him, but he holds his hand up like a traffic cop, and says, "Forget it! I was there, man. I was there."

"But," I say, "It's for the blog."

He dropped his head sideways into his palm with an elbow planted on the desk. He gave me the "c'mon, c'mon" with his stop-sign hand, like a fellow working a double-shift at the complaint window at Walmart.

But there isn't any story there -- just what I told you here -- and my soliloquy trailed off into stammers and mumbles, so I just shrugged and went back to my own cube.

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