Something Must Break

Wow.  It has come and gone again: my annual journey into the world of the LPGA and the long running Portland Classic out at the stunning Columbia Edgewater Golf Club.  Increasingly, it has become not only the highlight of my year, but in many ways the only thing that keeps me trudging through each chaotic and crises filled day.  This year proves, once again, that the thrill remains.  I simply cannot get enough of this event.  It’s overwhelming, like a huge music festival where all of my favorite bands are playing at the same time!

The tournament itself was anticlimactic this year, as the impressive young Canadian phenom, Brooke Henderson dominated over the weekend and went on to win by eight strokes, while setting a tournament scoring record, but it’s the details and moments of triumph and dismay that make the multiple trips around those 18 holes so memorable and intriguing.  Once again, I volunteered to caddy for the money guys in two of the Pro-Ams.  On Monday, I unknowingly caddied for the mayor of Hillsboro (one of the other caddies looked him up on her phone, so I found out after the round), who was a pretty fun guy that looked a lot like the zany David Feherity.  Our pro was the vivacious and pretty Jenny Suh, who continued to prove that these ladies are not just great at golf, but the best ambassadors for the sport period.  She was personable, funny, patient, and helpful to the amateurs.  She coached local sports radio talk show host Isaac Ropp from wildly erratic play early in the round to a series of great shots by the end.  This has been true of all of the other players I’ve encountered so far in this environment.  For the Wednesday Pro-Am, I was able to recruit an old friend, Jon, out to join me.  He is not a golfer, nor does he know much about the game, so he was nervous and worried about taking part.  However, aside from the waiting around part before getting assigned to a group, he did fine and had a great time.  Our pro was Lizette Salas, whose heartwarming story of getting to the LPGA is one made for TV (see here), as she came from rags to riches through the hard work and support of her family and her own perseverance.  She was quiet, but she began to be more open and funny as the round progressed.  

The caddy gig is always a must, especially because of the up close view of these professionals and the chance to see the golf course from the fairways, but the tournament itself is what really gets my adrenaline pumping.  As always, I try to follow groups through entire rounds and preferably two full rounds each day.  Making the decision of who to follow is getting more and more difficult each year, as I am collecting more and more favorite golfers, plus I am devoted to supporting Jee Young Lee, the pro from my first caddy experience in 2012.  I decided to cheer on Jenny Suh from the Monday Pro-Am for the Thursday morning wave and Jee Young Lee for the afternoon. Both players shot rollercoaster rounds of two under par and one under respectively.  Jenny Suh started off slowly before a couple of bogeys had her already eight shots off the early lead.  Luckily, she rebounded with a stellar second nine holes, which included four birdies.  

When Jenny finished I raced over to the first tee to catch Jee Young Lee tee off with her group.  There is a lot of exercise and no rest out on the course for rabid golf spectators like me.  Like Jenny, J.Y. Lee had a crazy round.  She opened with an effortless birdie on the first hole and worked her way to three under par through the first eight holes.  But then, suddenly all went awry.  She bogeyed the 9^th hole, and then hit a drive that bounced over my head and into the trees on the 10^th hole, which led to a shot into the water hazard and a double bogey – erasing her progress and putting her back to level.  This is one of three shots Jee Young hit directly at me, making me wonder if she was trying to get rid of me.  The round continued along a similar erratic pattern, but she managed to scratch out a hard fought one under round.

Friday was the reverse: JYL in the early AM and Jenny in the afternoon, with even less time to connect from round to round.  However, it was two of their playing partners who stole the show this day.  Caroline Masson, from Germany, continued to hit solid shot after solid shot and then got hot with her putting, leading her to a best of the week eight under par 64 for the day.  Jee Young Lee also played well.  Early on, her iron play was a bit wobbly, but she kept scratching out fantastic and nerve wracking par saving putts, which twisted my guts into knots each time.  Luckily, she started hitting the ball more consistently, and then finished with two nice birdies on her final two holes (8 and 9), including about a 30 foot bomb on the ninth hole. During the round, her caddy introduced himself, perhaps noticing that I was one of two people who followed the group every single hole and after the round he and Jee Young came up behind me as I was studying the pairings guide (tee time schedule).  We were all giddy from the finish.  We chatted for a few minutes and I was so excited I completely forgot my main goal for the week, which was to leave the tournament capturing a picture of her and I together.  I’ve said this every year since 2012, but it has yet to happen.  My mind turns to jelly when she is in front of me and I guess I swoon like a teenage girl at a Beatles gig.  No picture taken, but a thrill to meet her again, especially under happy circumstances.

Quickly and filled with a buzz, I scooted over to the first tee to see the Jenny Suh group.  Again, it was her playing partner, Candie Kung, who shot a flawless round of golf.  She wound up shooting a six under par 66 for the day, but it could’ve been so much better – like record breaking better.  She missed at least five very makeable short range putts for birdies.  She kept placing the ball close to the pin after hitting every approach shot from the center of the fairway.  Candie’s caddy was oddly captivating too.  He looked like one of those old large size G.I. Joe dolls with the felt hair and beards and would read the greens for Candie with extreme exuberance.  He seemed to use his whole body, flopping around, crouching, lying down and circling the hole repeatedly.  It was all very strange.  Meanwhile, Jenny struggled and was clearly frustrated.  She simply could not get anything going.  She managed to steal a couple of birdies along the way, but finished poorly and wound up with a one under round.  Good news is that both made the cut, so the drama of seeing J.Y. Lee barely miss and barely make the cut the prior two years was avoided.

The weekend began with disappointment.  Because the PGA Championship was also this last weekend (congratulations to Jason Day for the big win!  Well deserved.), Golf Channel scheduled their television coverage of the Portland Classic during the time the live coverage of the men’s tournament was airing on CBS, so they could free up air time for their repetitive and endless post game breakdown.  The result being the players played in threesomes and teed off both the 1^st and 10^th tees to condense the field.  This is something normally employed for weather delayed tournaments to try to squeeze play into the scheduled days.  It was frustrating because it left me with only one chance to go around the course with a player.  As a result, Saturday was pretty non-descript overall, as Jee Young Lee really struggled with her iron play and only managed an even par round, which was a bit of a miracle considering the trouble she kept getting into.  Her round included a lipped out putt on the 7^th green that went on to slowly trickle down the slope about 30 feet away – apparently the hour or so of rain (finally!!) the previous day had not taken the fire out of these lightning fast greens.  This was also when Brooke Henderson grabbed complete control of the tournament – eliminating any final round drama.  The bright side is that my friend, Christine, joined me out there, driving in from Moscow, Idaho to see the final round and a half.  

Sunday was different.  We arrived comfortably in time to see Jee Young Lee’s group tee off.  She hit three fantastic shots into the par 5 tenth hole, and as I stood next to the 10^th green, Lee looked over at me, smiled, and mouthed “hi.”  I immediately melted.  All of these years, I was never sure if she even remembered who I was, as she has always held a pretty strong game face intensity during each round, and our language barrier has kept our post round interactions pretty limited.  She then stepped up and rolled in a birdie.  What a perfect start to the day!  I could not have been more excited.  It’s a good thing Christine and Jon were both there with me, otherwise, I may have floated off into the atmosphere.  The entire round was like this.  Jee Young Lee was smiley and chatty with her playing competitor, Ryan O’Toole, and her caddy Steve.  She had such a relaxed demeanor.  It was surprising and fun to see.  She played pretty well and finished the tournament at six under par overall, but this is when a creeping panic started to settle into my chest.  The tournament, the thing that keeps me going, one of the only things that inspires and energizes me anymore, was coming to an end.

Thankfully, my friends were with me, when Jee Young Lee and her caddy emerged from the scoring tent after her round.  Steve handed me Jee Young’s game ball, signed, and told us that she is retiring from golf.  She is going to move back home to South Korea, marry her fiancé, and start a family.  Christine was sure to snap a picture of JYL and me together – not allowing me to lose my head and forget, as usual, especially with this sudden news leaving me dazed.  Jee young Lee was kind enough to spend those few moments and say goodbye.  I am thankful for all of the great memories and thrilling moments and highs and lows she and her golf have provided over the last few years, but I will miss her.  I will miss following her progress on the LPGA.com leader board throughout the year from faraway tournaments.  

Looking at this picture now, I see her as a person relaxed and happy with her decision to move on.  Meanwhile I look terrible.  I look sick.  I look like someone in pain - physical pain from the cyst slowly growing in the base of my brain, which feels like someone has jammed a walnut through my skull, and the emotional pain of someone who does not know what to do to find contentment or happiness anymore, except out on the golf course watching a player who I will never see again.

Two years ago, after this tournament, I made a decision.  I realized then that the excitement and life-affirming joy that I always feel while climbing the hills following these wonderful women around a golf course was a feeling that was completely lacking in my personal and professional life.  I envy all of the people out there, from the players to the caddies, to the coaches and the LPGA events staff, for having a dream and going out and finding a way to live that dream each day.  Don’t get me wrong, I know that everyone involved has their issues, gripes, hassles, downfalls and nightmares – we all do.  This was when I decided that instead of complaining about my job day after day, I’d do my best to make my job better.  

I began the long process of studying potential software systems that could really enhance and streamline the processes of the non profit organization I work for.  I’ve struggled through bureaucracy, gotten involved with RFI’s and  RFP’s, contract negotiations, and stuff way above and beyond my pay grade all in order to essentially change my job into something that moves beyond the day to day putting out of fires, all of which could be easily prevented with decent planning and consistency in place.  During this time, there have been massive delays and road blocks and what feels like either devolving management, or my own diminishing ability to deal with the constant unnecessary chaos, or both. Somehow I have continued to push forward with this project, but the fulfillment has not yet been forthcoming.  Instead it has been a battle that I have a lot of wounds from.  I am losing the ability to believe that any kind of system can ever be implemented with any success, because the entropy of my work place seems to always lead to a confusing mass of disorganization and nauseating stress.

As I have mentioned in previous examinations of these annual LPGA events (New Life, Sparkle in the Rain, and Numb), I am increasingly discouraged with the direction of my life and am not sure where to turn.  As I return to work after my week long LPGA adventure, I return to piles of work that has been left undone during my absence, and to tons of needed preparations and information gathering for this big project as the implementation finally begins to come to fruition.  But there will be no available time to work on any of it due to the mess.  Part of me is tempted to walk away, though I have no plan for how to make a living as a back up.  Part of me wants to grind this out and see this damn project through, but I’m realizing more and more that even if I manage to get this thing to work and work well, it’s not a dream or something I am genuinely passionate about.  Will the effort be worth it?

New Life

Each year when I take time away from work and pretty much anything else that is part of my daily life to attend the annual LPGA event here in Portland, I am reminded of one very specific thing: the way I live my life needs to change.  It becomes more acute each year.

I’ve written incessantly and repetitively in this blog over the last few years about my obsession with attending this tournament – the Portland Classic (see Summerside, The Clown via LPGA.com, Numb, and Sparkle in the Rain for past recaps).   What began as a tournament that I sheepishly checked out on a whim in 2010 has now turned into my only planned days off from work and the main thing I look forward to each year.  This past weekend proved that the shine is not wearing off.  This was probably the best one yet!  Each year I throw myself into this event with more and more gusto and keep adding ways to get more involved.  It is this sign of life and burst of energy and enthusiasm that emphasizes each time how unhappy I am with much of my life outside of this annual week long event.

Morgan Pressel

 There are far too many highlights for me to even begin to scratch the surface here.  There are so many little moments that occur when the LPGA stars are just out and about everywhere you happen to venture around the golf course property.  I mean, just by chance, Morgan Pressel and I caught glances as she strode down the first hole after her opening tee shot during the first round and I threw up a silly wave hello, which she returned in kind, along with a goofy grin!  It was fun to see Hee Young Park jump into one of the local food carts to serve food immediately after shooting a seven under 65 on Saturday. 

Hee Young Park working at Bro Dogs

Irene Coe

I was able to meet two professionals during the early week Pro-Ams that I volunteer caddied for: the delightfully chatty and energetic Irene Coe, early Monday morning (who sadly had to withdraw from the tournament due to back pain), and the fantastic Swedish major winner Anna Nordqvist on the hot Wednesday afternoon prior to tournament play the next morning.  A friend also gave me VIP passes to the “Champions Club,” which is the hospitality tent perched behind the 18^th green at all golf tournaments - the ones where people eat and drink for free and seem to live a life I don’t really understand.  

Anna Nordqvist

The big highlight for me, of course, was getting to see my favorite golfer Jee Young Lee make the cut and see her hit every shot of all four rounds. I have chronicled how I encountered Lee two years ago with my first volunteer caddy group and how she became my latest favorite golfer, but this year, as I watched her struggle and scratch for pars and wind up only in a tie for 72^nd place, I wondered to myself: “why she is so fascinating to me?”  Why is it that I live and die with every shot she hits?  When she hits an approach iron to six inches for a kick in birdie, like she did on the 11^th hole Sunday, my heart soars with joy and I love seeing her normal stern determined game face brighten with a huge smile.  But then when she hits a dying duck hook out of bounds on the relatively easy par 5 seventh hole to score a double bogey (also on Sunday – just after I thought to myself, “Today is going to be a good day!” - proving that I am probably a curse), I feel awful.  I feel despondent.  I feel frustrated and I feel for her.  Golf, unlike most competitive activities, is so isolating and so exposed and a player is actually paid based on performance (i.e.: the worse one does, the less money they make, which means fewer opportunities to be in tournaments – imagine that in the NBA or MLB on a game by game basis).  So much of the game is played inside one’s head and there are so many things that can go wrong and generally do.  Jee Young Lee has all of the tools to be one of the best players on tour – I have no doubt.  I have seen a lot of great players up close and she has the tools.  She can hit it really far and straight.  She has the skill to get up and down from almost anywhere (as I’ve said before, she has hit three of the most amazing shots I’ve ever seen), she can curve the ball left and right.  Her putting is very smooth and consistent.  I guess I root for her so hard, because identify with her.  Why isn’t she better?  I don’t know.  I don’t know if she lacks the focus, or the confidence, or just has bad luck, or has simply lost the fun.  I often ask the same questions of myself.  I truly believe I have the tools to do a lot of good things in this world, but everything feels like a struggle and I never feel like I can excel or can break free from standing still.  But most importantly, I don’t feel much passion for what I spend most of my time doing.  It’s a terrible cycle that I know I need to break free from, I simply am not sure how.

Jee Young Lee putting

Every time I have seen Jee Young Lee play, she has had a different caddy.  This year, her caddy Kelly, was a northwest guy – from Gig Harbor, Washington.  I learned this because the only consistent people in the gallery besides me all four days were an older couple who followed JYL shot for shot just as I did. This couple were Kelly’s parents and it is amazing and sweet how much people will talk about their kids with very little prompting.  Apparently, several years ago, Kelly decided to pick up and go to the Bandon Dunes Golf Resort (amazing place) and attend their caddy school for a few days (my kind of schooling!) and become a caddy for the resort.  Well, eventually, through another caddy he knew, he was asked to fill in on an LPGA player’s bag for a week and now he has been doing so for a few years.  He travels the world, caddies over in South Korea for their pro tour during the LPGA offseason.  He went out and grabbed his very humble dream.  He does not yet have a regular player that has hired him.  His parents were hopeful that Jee Young Lee would take him to Evian France with her in two weeks, but that had yet to be determined.

I bring this up, because I have often joked about how I hope that an LPGA player takes me on as her caddy – snagging me out of the crowd during the tournament.  How I want one of them to take me away and rescue me from the sludge and grind I dwell in 51 weeks a year.  I honestly don’t know if I would enjoy caddying.  I don’t know if I have the desire to travel that much and have the guts to live without the security of a regular paycheck (only a select few caddies get that steady money making machine player on the pro golf circuit), and I would worry about my health care.  But the message rang out loud and clear.  I need to find a new direction.  It is past time to begin forging a new life – a new direction.  I need to learn how to let go of the security of doing what I always do, and have always done, and start the search for what will make me want to get out of bed each day.  I know life will always have its ups and downs, but maybe those down times won’t seem so insurmountable if I actually feel a little better about myself.

That Smiling Face

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” Sophia said and laughed nervously.

“You shouldn’t doubt yourself! You’ll do just fine!” Chuck responded immediately, trying to fight the urge to reach over and touch her arm and verge into creepy territory.

“This is my first visit…”

“We’ll be there together and we’ll work through it together,” he tried to be reassuring. He was always a little nervous about these visits as it is and this was still his responsibility, so having someone there to help always comforted him. He always appreciated the back up. He was also nervous because he had developed a crush on her from afar. She was so pretty and so keen on jumping in and helping anyone and everyone out.

The week prior, Sophia approached him at the office out of the blue. He had seen her around, but didn’t know who she was. He had noticed her wandering through the office with her resonant smile and that long dark hair. Now here she was asking him if she could join him on his next run of home visits. Turns out she’s interning two days a week and wants to expand her experiences at their busy little office. Chuck straightened his back and stammered an approval. She brightened and said enthusiastically: “See you next week Charles!”

There she was sitting in the passenger seat of his car and he had been trying to prepare himself for this all week. He knew she would be with him, and he hoped that he would like her as much as he found her physically attractive. He wanted to make a good impression. So far during the drive across town everything had gone great in Chuck’s mind. Sophia was easy to talk with. She was interesting and engaging. She told him about what she wanted to do with her life and why she was interning. She wanted to help senior citizens. She wanted to be an advocate for them. She was going to school to study all angles of the social, political, and health concerns of all of our grandparents. She told Chuck about how her dream had been sidetracked as she initially dropped out of college to begin raising her two young children, but how after her divorce, she found the courage and wits to get her affairs in order and return to school. He marveled at the idea of her raising two young kids on her own, working a job, going to school full time and still taking time to volunteer (or intern) where he works in order to achieve her goals. It made him feel a great admiration for her and very sheepish about how much time he wastes away every day.

Still, despite, his own personal misgivings about the state of his life, that half hour with Sophia instilled Chuck with energy and inspiration. She helped him realize that his job is important and increased his focus on the few visits he had scheduled for them that morning.

“What will they think of me?” she asked him, concerned that his clients wouldn’t take her seriously.

“Just be the kind, courteous, and caring person you seem to be and they will all love you. They will prefer you over me, I’m certain. The most important advice I can offer is to genuinely listen to what these fine people say and ask,” Chuck offered.

Sophia let that last sentence hang in the air and they sat in the car wordless as Chuck turned left and pulled the car into an apartment complex parking lot. He kept hearing his own annoying voice echo around his thoughts. He always hated being aware of his voice and the stupid sounding things he would find himself saying. He didn’t allow this to deter him though. Being with Sophia made him feel positive and he had had a great week leading up to this day. He had been social and hung out with friends. He had found himself noticing an occasional smile from women he would pass at the grocery store and the bank and over the weekend he was pretty certain that the bartender at Bottles was flirting with him. He felt foolish thinking such a silly thing, but it made him smile anyway.

They grabbed some notebooks out of the back of his car after Chuck finally found an open parking spot and Sophia shadowed him as they made their way to the front entrance of the building to see Howard. Howard was in his 80s and mostly bed ridden and needed help filling out some insurance forms.

“You have a pretty girl following you! Heh Heh!” someone shouted towards them from the smoking area near the front door.

“I sure do. It must be my lucky day!” Chuck shouted back, as he grabbed a security card from his notebook and used it to open the door.

**********

“Do you think Victor will be okay?” Sophia asked Chuck after they climbed out of his car at the office parking lot. He noticed that she had turned her face skyward to absorb the warmth of the sunshine after she asked about Victor. He cursed himself for keeping the car too chilly. Too much air!

“I sure hope so. His health hasn’t been very good lately. I’ll be joining him for his doctor’s appointment tomorrow, so we’ll see,” he told her with enthusiasm, but he knew that Victor was not doing well. “I sure hope so,” he mumbled.

“He’s so sweet,” she added before thanking Chuck for letting her go along.

Chuck did not want to say goodbye, but it was clear that their arrangement for the day had come to an end. He did need to file his reports and make some phone calls and so on.

“Thank you, Sophia!” he chirped back overenthusiastically. She headed off to see Theresa, her advisor, and he headed to his downstairs office to check his email. He couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened. His face was flushed and his heart was racing. He was smitten, whether he wanted to be or not. He sent Sara a quick email about how his “hot date” had gone. Sara was the only one he had told about his new crush and how she had arranged their afternoon together. Sara was the wife of one of oldest and dearest friends. She had become his closest confidant, unwittingly, with his imaginary matters of the heart.

“Do you think you’ll pursue her?” was Sara’s immediate response, always the one to get straight to the point.

He pondered with his hands hovering over the keyboard, “Do I?” he thought. All of his crushes had gone nowhere except for one, which became a suffocating nightmare after only a couple of months before coughing, choking, and wheezing to a collapsing, yet merciful end.
“Not sure. She has two kids and is always busy. Not sure I’m ready for that,” he carefully pecked out. “I do really really like her though.”

“Hmmm…when will you see her next?” Sara replied immediately.

“Next Thursday,” he answered, realizing that the week ahead without seeing her made him feel sad. Again, he paused and wasn’t sure what to type. He knew he had all kinds of emotions boiling under the surface, but none of them made any sense. “I guess I’ll just talk to her then.”

**********

Luckily for Chuck his week was incredibly busy. He had a weekend scheduled with friends and family. Nearly every night was booked with some sort of social engagement and work was always three weeks behind schedule and there to keep him occupied. Sometimes he had to over schedule his time because he struggled to be alone. Alone, his thoughts always turned to what he was missing. It was when he was alone that he realized that he had been alone for far too long. He thought of Victor. He thought about how he was close to the end and had no family and no friends around to care for him or to simply keep him company. All he had were occasional visits from people who were paid to check in on him. A big part of his job was employing a heavy dose of empathy and none of his clients could possibly know how deeply he understood their plight.

**********

Chuck splashed on some cologne for the first time in about a year. He laughed as he glanced at the small bottle in his hand. He didn’t know what this was, where it came from, or if it still existed. He wasn’t even sure if he liked the smell, or if the smell was the same as it had been when it appeared in his medicine cabinet countless years ago. He tried to wash it off moments later. He smiled and bounced around that morning and hummed along with the Allo Darlin’ CD playing quietly from the oversized speakers in his adjoining bedroom:

“If I told you

I was never cool
And all I wanted

Was just to have you

And when I see you

I will put my arm around you

It will be hard to let you go”

One of Chuck’s other crushes was with lead singer Elizabeth Morris’s voice, and the uplifting message of “The Letter” was a perfect song to start his hopeful day ahead. Even with his busy week behind him, the idea of seeing Sophia had always been at the forefront of his mind. He was hoping that she would join him on some more visits. He pulled the disc out of the player and took it with him for the commute to work.

**********

That magical smiling face of Sophia’s caught Chuck’s eye as he finally spied her on her way into the office. He had kept looking at the window all morning and there she was. She waved a greeting to Cindy as they passed in the parking lot. He was stuck on a conference call, which he had long ago stopped paying attention to. All he wanted to do was drop the line and rush to the entrance to greet her. He didn’t know what he would say anyway, so he put his head down on his desk and continued to tune out the chatter coming from his phone. He didn’t see her again the rest of that day.

**********

“Good morning,” Chuck said to Sophia as she wandered into the break room. She had her back to him and looked out the window. He was squirting old coffee from a broken urn. She had surprised him. He hadn’t seen her all morning and wasn’t sure if she was scheduled to work on Fridays.

“Oh, hey,” she glanced back over her shoulder.

“How are you doing?” he asked, ready to ask more rapid fire generic small talk questions to keep her around.

“Okay,” she said as she turned around. She turned her attention to the doorway. Chuck could hear voices. She trotted out of the room after them.

“Hey, Mark,” he heard her voice again. “Would you mind if I joined you for that meeting today?”

“Sure! I’m headed out now. Come on,” Mark encouraged.

Chuck poured his cold cup of coffee down the sink and sat down at the table. He thought about their drive the week before. It was then that he realized that through their entire conversation, the only questions she asked of him had to do with work, while he had touched on not only work, but also her life and her interests and her kids and childhood. When Sara asked him if he was going to pursue her, he only thought about the idea of him not being able to handle being a part of her busy life with kids, school, and work. He could only think about the amorphous directionless mess of a life he had always led – a life without a plan. All he could count on each day is that he would wind up at work the next day until he could no longer work anymore. He never considered what she might think of him. She smartly was on a fast track to achieve her goals, which had nothing to do with him. Chuck needed to get to Victor’s to take him to his doctor’s appointment. The last prognosis was not positive. He started his car and rolled down the window. Allo Darlin’s “The Letter” spurted on midway through the song. This time Elizabeth’s words made him feel overwhelmed with emptiness. He wanted a beautiful voice to be singing those words to him – not for him.

Ocean Breathes Salty

He sat down on the bench beneath the coat rack. Various odors drifted around his senses from the jackets lined up above his head. Each jacket’s stench told a different story about its owner. He leaned his elbows onto his knees and dropped his face into his palms. He didn’t want to delve into those stories. Pain felt like it was going to rupture out from the middle of his back, or at least seep out through the hole in his left side. The pain was from pressure. The pressure was from old blood swirling around his insides from a long stretch of internal bleeding while on blood thinners during a disastrous hospital stay. He was dizzy from the pills he had taken. He began to shiver, as he attempted to regain his feet and return to work. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his hands as they struggled to retie the white apron around his waist. He heard a voice from behind him ask if he was okay.

“Well that is that

And this is this

You tell me what you want

I’ll tell you what you get

You get away from me”

Red and green cloud the pool’s alternating surface direction inside the bright white porcelain bowl. He managed a grunt of laughter as he thought to himself about how the colors were so festive. He tried to ignore the burn from the infection. He was unable to button his jeans, because his hands were shaking too much. The bandage wrapped around his abdomen had begun to unstick, so he tried to hold it in place with his elbow. The tiny rubber ball underneath the burgundy stained gauze that was connected to a tube that thrust deep inside of him looked like it was filled with Kool-Aid, but it made him think of knife wounds.

“The ocean breathes salty

Won’t you carry him in

In your head

In your mouth

In your soul

And maybe we’ll get lucky

And we’ll both grow old

Well I don’t know

I don’t know

I hope so”

Wrapping his arms tightly around each other, he allowed his head to fall against the stair behind it. His momentum shifted his weight across the steps into the wall. He couldn’t make the ataxia of his torso stop no matter how hard he tried to squeeze himself still. His teeth rattled despite his efforts to clamp down his jaw and arrest control of his muscles from the disease that had already eaten away his soul. He could’ve called out for help, but all he could think about was his impending death. It was past 3 am anyway. He didn’t want to wake anyone. He pondered the notion of his death and what it meant to him. Nothing came to mind, other than a sense of relief and the emptiness that he had always envisioned. He had learned less than two months prior that bleeding to death internally would be a good way to go. It was so relaxing to be slowly drained of life; to delve peacefully into a deep sleep and then never wake up. He did wake up though, and instead found himself sweating, shivering, nauseous and forced into a fallen position on a staircase due to crippling pain.

“Well that is that

And this is this

You told me what you saw

And I’ll tell you what you missed

When the ocean met the sky

You missed when time in life

Shook hands and said goodbye

When the Earth folded in on itself

And said ‘Good luck

I hope heaven and hell

Are really there

I wouldn’t hold my breath’

You wasted life

Why wouldn’t you waste death?”

He stared out toward the horizon. The low autumn afternoon sun still burned bright, if not hot. He considered how the tiny bumps for hills covered with tall trees to the west are blocking his view of the ocean from this vantage point. He had actually never seen the beach along this stretch. He had been to this little town hundreds of times, but never ventured anywhere beyond its two very modest golf courses, which lie just inland. He held his shirt up, as his friend worked diligently to reapply his stained bandage to his side and back. A layer of sweat from the activity and humid heavy coastal air made the bandage a liability. The third member of their group, who joined a few holes prior, asked if he could play through. They nodded and laughed at the circumstance. His pain and mourning have been tempered with determination and a realization at how much he wanted to keep fighting.

“The ocean breathes salty

Won’t you carry him in

In your head

In your mouth

In your soul

And the more we move ahead

The more we’re stuck in rewind

Well I don’t mind

I don’t mind

How could I mind?”

lyrics & title taken from Isaac Brock./Modest Mouse

Numb

This year’s LPGA Safeway Classic event has already come and gone. I feel like I’m leaving a summer camp crush, filled with heartbreak, knowing full well that I will never see them again. Of course, I don’t know that feeling, because I never went to summer camp until a boy’s basketball camp during high school and that was about as bad as it sounds and smelled worse. Also, I should be able to see the LPGA come through town again next year, so scratch all of that. Maybe my problem right now is that I don’t know what to feel. The previous two visits have left me foaming at the mouth excited and re-energized despite my manic need to be out on the course watching every moment I can take in for 10 to 12 hours each day that they’re here. That excitement was there this year, though hampered some by a lack of energy which I have blamed on my health. My doctor has not found a physical cause for my fatigue and lack of energy after numerous tests (back story can be found here) and now I’m starting to wonder if her initial thought of depression might actually be the problem. The only thing is that when she asked me that question on a sunny Thursday morning over a month ago now, I didn’t sense the least bit of unhappiness coarsing through me. As this mysterious setback has progressed, my resolve has continued to weaken and some serious sadness has taken a hold of me. But I digress. This year’s LPGA event had an added element, when they asked me to write a fan diary of each day’s events. This was an amazing honor that didn’t seem possible until this past weekend when it all actually happened! I wrote frantically every night after hours and hours of roasting in the sun all day to get the story sent in and sometime the next morning, amazingly the story and pictures I sent in were up there (and can be read here). It was additionally surreal to see the picture I took of “Snacks” (fellow caddy during the Pro-Am last Thursday) and South Korean LPGA player Jee Young Lee standing in front of the Oscar Meyer Weiner Mobile next to the first tee box at Pumpkin Ridge’s Ghost Creek golf course flash across the top of the LPGA homepage as a featured story. It was hard – much harder than I thought it would be. When I so enthusiastically agreed to write for this event, I thought it would be easy. How many times have I talked people’s ear off about the previous experiences? This was not the case. My crazy stories of experiences are mostly made up of inside jokes mixed with a mild psychosis that doesn’t translate well to anything, but especially a real website where some people actually go for information. So, I found myself reporting. I have often found sports reporters to be a hateful bunch. Who wouldn’t be when charged with writing about the same thing over and over each day? It never felt right, when I hit send each evening. I find that there are no words that I can conjure up that actually represent what I go through out there.

This year’s journey has me questioning what it is that draws me to the event with such drive. I think it’s because I feel like I belong there. I have always had a passion for golf, if not the game. I remember as a little kid, before I had any inclination of golf, being overly curious about golf courses that would pass by the car window as we drove wherever we were going. There have been two times during my adult life where I’ve entered an arena where I felt completely at home: walking into a real professional recording studio and every time I’ve walked onto the golf course to watch the LPGA. These are two places where I feel I truly belong. It makes me wonder about how my decisions have led me astray from these things. How do I consistently find myself doing things that I don’t really want to do all day every day. This is not unique, I know – this is something most of us go through – but at this time it is all so fresh and I am not quite ready to do what we all always find a way to do, and swallow it down and push on through the daily grind until the disappointment fades away. I still don’t know exactly what it is that makes me so crazy. I have mentioned before how welcoming this tournament is. It’s remarkable to me to enter the course and immediately be surrounded by the players that I see on TV most weeks – walking to and fro. They all are always willing to stop and say hello to anyone that approaches, and they always seem genuinely glad to do so – almost as if they are surprised! Much of what I have written about previously has been my efforts to cheer on specific golfers as I trail them over entire rounds of 18 holes. I like to completely immerse myself into what they’re doing. They are not necessarily in the hunt for the tournament and sometimes may be really struggling, but the effort and the emotion that I see and feel sucks me in and I truly do live and die inside with each and every shot. This last Saturday, I followed my new girl Jee Young Lee from the Pro-AM, who I was honored to see play up close, a tour rookie, who I had not previously heard of, Dori Carter and a fading LPGA star Jennifer Rosales. Besides the father of Jee Young and the mom and dad of Dori’s, I was the only one watching these three players in the gallery. As we came down the final fairway of the day, I introduced myself and let them know that I was writing the fan diary for the LPGA website. I asked them if I could take some pictures. When their kids – these young women - had finished and signed their scorecards with the officials, they signed a few autographs and then went to their parents. It was there that they thanked me for following and for the support. They thanked me! It amazed me. Dori and Jee Young both seemed surprised and happy that I had been there, and despite struggling through a really difficult day of golf for both of them and trying to earn a living, they were smiling and obliging as I had them pose for my silly pictures. Unfortunately, I was not able to track down Jennifer Rosales during all the commotion, which is too bad, because I remember rooting her on to a couple of victories several years ago, while watching the LPGA tape delayed on ESPN. At any rate, the parents asked me to email them the pictures I took so they could share them with their family. They were all so warm and kind that I felt like I was at a family summer barbeque.

The final round on Sunday is always difficult for me. It is the last day and I go in knowing that I don’t want it to end. I do not want to say goodbye, but I do want to reach a conclusion. It is the nature of competition. There’s not a lot of satisfaction without an ending, though golf is different. The real competition in golf is between the player and the course, or really the player and themselves. Sometimes just making the cut and actually earning a few thousand dollars in the case of an LPGA tournament is a victory. While sometimes getting that first top 20 or top 10 is a huge victory. The storylines are varied and deep and never simple. Once again, I followed around my new favorite Korean Jee Young Lee on Sunday, along with the ravishing and model tall German Sandra Gal. Jee Young had vaulted herself into contention during the first round with an impressive 5 under round, but played one over par the second day, so she needed to make a big move to be able to earn a victory (she started the day 7 strokes behind the leader). I wanted to will her to that victory. I know it doesn’t work, but I was going to try and root her cool flat orange golf ball into the hole with every possible shot. Overall, she played pretty damn good, but ended the tournament where she was after the first day at five under par, which was good enough for a tie for twelfth place. When she finished, my companion Christine followed me around behind the grandstands, where I shook hands and offered continued support to Jee Young’s father, where he thanked me profusely again for my support. What I really wanted was a chance to get a picture of me with her after the round, since I had taken so many of her with other people. But as we circled around where the players exit the big stage of the 18th hole and where there are generally autograph seekers and such, I saw Jee Young and her caddy alone with their heads down walking directly to the driving range to practice – with her father trotting over the join them. It was that moment where I kind of lost it. I think I confused Christine as I kept walking back and forth and leading us nowhere with lots of golfers and action still to be witnessed. But it was that moment when I knew that this was it. The tournament and the writing gig that I had been building up with anticipation for nearly an entire year was ending and I didn’t want it to. This place is where I belonged! In that moment, I didn’t want to go back to my stressful job. I didn’t want to go see all of my doctors anymore. I didn’t want to go back to my apartment and be alone. I wanted to race down the hill and embrace Jee Young and console her and hopefully console myself in the process.  Being at that tournament and around those players lifted me to another plane where my illnesses and limitations no longer were a part of my life. My constant daily headaches were barely noticeable, my energy level maintained enough to get me around those damn hills each and every day without fail, and I was filled with feeling and passion and confidence that often drift away from me during regular days.

I realize that this sadness will fade away over time, at least until next August, like apparently those old childhood summer camp crushes do, and I will re-immerse myself into the real world. Though, if the LPGA decides that they need someone to fill the position “Ambassador of Awesomeness,” I would definitely like to offer my services.