6-29-07 Maple Meadows East 9…redemption my ass.

After my pathetic showing only 24 hours earlier, I was anxious to play again. To fix what I had done wrong. To redeem myself. My Uncle Ted, who is one of my favorite people to golf with, got out of work at 11 this morning and wanted to golf with my Dad. I planned on attending, providing the kiddo would allow for me to leave early enough. They wanted to tee off around noon. I woke up around 10. Baby didn’t wake up. Wifey didn’t wake up. I made some coffee and hopped on the internet for a while, when wifey came out of the bedroom and informed me she had trouble getting to sleep and was up until about 7 am. She kindly asked that, should the baby wake up and not go back to sleep, that I stay home and take care of her so she could get some more rest. I kindly obliged, and when the baby woke up around 11, I kinda felt my opportunity to golf today was gone. 15 or 20 minutes later, Grace was done eating and Nikki was heading back to bed. Nik said that if Grace fell asleep and stayed asleep I could just leave for golf if there was still time, though.

After a diligent burping, some singing and rocking, Grace did fall back asleep. I wrapped her up and put her in her bassinet, hoping against hope that both she and the wife would be out for a few hours. Meanwhile, I pooped, cleaned up my coffee mess, had some cherry pie and informed my Dad that I would likely be able to make it, so long as they were willing to wait until 1230 or so. He agreed. I checked back in on my gals and they were both out, so I, quietly as I could, gathered up my shit and left the house at 12 on the nose.

6-28-07 Fox Run…worst round of all time.

A couple weeks after my first Father’s Day and the day after my 26th birthday, I got the opportunity to go golfing. This was set up for a while. My brother and father were going to head up to my nape of the neck to play 9 before work. The original plan was to try Palatine Hills, which looks fantastic, but I never set up a tee time and they ended up being booked solid until noon. Same thing went for Buffalo Grove. Interested to play somewhere different than our usual 3 or 4 standbys, and also somewhere a little longer than I am used to, we went to Fox Run in Elk Grove Village.

I have played Fox Run twice before, both last season. For being a park district course, it is very well manicured and maintained. It is a fairly long, straightforward layout with an average amount of hazards and trees. The course is, by and large though, is wide open. The fairways feel gigantic and leave plenty of room for error. The rough is thin and forgiving too. The place is in stark contrast to Rolling Knolls, which I thought would be a nice change of pace.

White Sox give Buehrle new paper.

It sounds as though the White Sox have resigned their lefty ace Mark Buehrle to a 4 year, $50,000,000 extension, although the White Sox official site is failing to confirm these rumors.

With the Sox sputtering near the bottom of the competitive AL, I find it kind of surprising that they would resign Buehrle. Clearly one of the best left handed starters in the game, Buehrle is the only piece in the White Sox puzzle that can help rebuild the orginization by netting either high level prospects or an equal value major leaguer or two in a trade. As it stands, the Sox will likely need to restock their entire outfield and at least the middle of their infield, and perhaps a 3rd baseman depending on Joe Crede’s back surgery and contract issues. The Sox have some live arms in their bullpen, but all of them have failed to get the job done this season and some fortification will need to be done in long relief, as well.

While I would rather have Mark Buehrle in town than shipped out, I think it will be a lot harder and more expensive for the Sox to pay and build around him than it would be to deal him and start from scratch.

I have complicated feelings about Rachel Ray.

First and foremost, she annoys me perhaps more than any other person on television. I simply cannot tolerate more than a few minutes of her. I am all for people being happy, but she seriously needs to chill the fuck out, and she seriously needs to stop using those stupid fucking cutesy words like “delish, yummo and stoup.” Stoup is the most glaring offense, in my mind. She tells us that it is a dish thicker than a soup and thinner than a stew. Just fucking pick one. I have had 2 of her “stoups,” and…guess what…they’re just fucking soups. Neither is anything like a stew. STOP SAYING STOUP.

Also, quit trying to carry 100 things at a time. Your cabinets and not far from your counter at all. You can turn around and grab things as you need them. I get the whole shtick, you are in a hurry. You do everything fast because you are over-caffeinated and hyper. It’s not funny. It is dumb. It’s one thing to save yourself an extra trip from the car or from the basement to get supplies…you are 3 feet away. It’s dumb.

Her porno-like overreactions of when she tastes something she likes (no matter if she cooked it or not) also need to go. You cannot possibly like food that much.

What complicates all of this for me is that, although her television shows and radio commercials annoy me to no end, her recipes are actually not bad. We have made a few of her soups and the results have been tasty. I am not one of those people who thinks she is revolutionizing cooking. She is not a chef. I know that, and I don’t care. Not everyone needs a fancy degree to cook well…but goddamn I wish she were less annoying and perky…and less stupid and airheaded and flaky so I could actually like her or enjoy her show.

I just wish the Food Network would devote the time and resources they give to Rachel Ray to Mr. Alton Brown. Why can’t he have 5 or 6 programs on everyday?

6-22-07 Apple Orchard…can we play through?

If I were a real estate agent, and Apple Orchard was a house you wanted information on, I would tell you that it was a “cozy handy-man’s dream.” This is, of course, just bullshit-speak for “small place that needs to be completely overhauled.” Now, by “complete overhaul” I do not mean to imply that the course has fallen into disrepair. It is a well maintained park district course…I just think that, for the tract it is on, that the layout, the hazards and the greens could be reworked to make it a little more challenging.

In the end, though, if you want to work on your short game and are looking to play 9 holes for 10 dollars in 60 minutes, then Apple Orchard is a fine choice. This is a staple course for first-time golfers in the tri-village area of Streamwood, Hanover Park and Bartlett.

Cubs trade Barrett

This is yet unconfirmed, but the airwaves and internet are abuzz with talk about the Cubs having traded the ever-punchy catcher Michael Barrett to the San Diego Padres. The original deal was reported to have been for catcher Rob Bowen and bullpenner Scott Linebrink, but now it sounds as though Linebrink is not a part of the deal, and minor league outfielder Kyler Burke is.

Regardless of who is coming back to Chicago, all I can say is that I am thankful that Jim Hendry dealt him before the Crosstown Classic, so we do not have to hear about the stupid crap that went down between Barrett and Pierzynski.

Whatever the reason, it has grown increasingly clear that Lou Piniella does not like Barrett, and has been sitting him in favor of ancient minor leaguer Koyie Hill, who provides a better glove behind the plate but little else. Barrett’s defensive liabilities have become all the more glaring this season since Barrett has seemingly forgotten how to hit.

Also, Cubs fans, it should be noted that the Cubs did not trade Barrett for Bruce Bowen or Kyler Burke. The Cubs traded Barrett just to get rid of Michael Barrett, and they happen to be getting those two players in return. This has to be a setup for a larger move, as the troika of Hill, Bowen and Blanco do not provide you with a legitimate tandem of catchers that can get a contending team through the last half of the season in the National League.

In the end, I suppose you want to have a #1 catcher who the ace of your staff likes to throw to.

Hopefully, this is just a setup to bring in Braves backup Jarrod Saltalamacchia, whom I love.

Linkage. CBS Sportsline. FOX Sports

edit: I just realized that this trade has slightly bigger implications than just getting rid of a guy that noone on the team liked…it also shows that Jim Hendry is willing to admit he was wrong. He plucked Barrett from the Expos and considered Michael to be a hidden gem – a testament to his own value and abilities as a scout. Not only that, but it also shows that he is making an effort to get on the same page as his manager, which is the kind of thing that can greatly improve this team.

edit edit: Ky-ky-klyer jokes!

Oh say can you see?

I have a grand total of zero magnetic ribbons on my car, which likely means I am not a good American. I am a sports fan though, and therefore I am exposed to numerous interpretations and renditions of our national anthem. Some good, most bad. I have come to a conclusion. It may sound mean, it may sound sexist, but I am sick of falsetto chicks and ball-less, whimpery R&B men singing the Star Spangled Banner at sporting events.

Growing up in Chicago’s suburbs and being a lifelong Cubs fan, when I think national anthem, I think of Wayne Messmer. Wayne is the public address announcer for the Cubs for 10 seasons and he sings the anthem (sometimes accompanied by his wife Kathy) before games that the Cubs have not contracted out to morons like Kelly Pickler or that hipster douchebag with the acoustic guitar they get once or twice every season. Messmer’s anthem is dramatic and powerful. His booming voice does not need amplification…well…actually, it does occasionally. Back in 1991, during the first Gulf War, Messmer sang at the NHL All Star Game at the old Chicago stadium.

I am far from the ravenous, flag-waving patriot. I do not particularly care for our national anthem (O Canada is far superior), and although I do wish our troops and veterans well, I am rather critical about the wars this country has engaged in during my lifetime…but the fact of the matter is…the above video is pretty amazing and even somewhat awe inspiring…and to me…that is what the anthem is supposed to do before a game. It is supposed to mean something and supposed to be energizing and and exciting for fans and players alike.

You need a deep voice to do that. A tenor or better. Think chest pounding…not glass shattering. Messmer does it, and a man named Patrick Blackwell does it even better. Blackwell is a bass-baritone with the Chicago Lyric Opera and sings the anthem at Blackhawks games. Unfortunately, the video I found of him doing the anthem does not do his amazing voice justice, and it cuts out at the most crucial part (he holds “brave” for about 30 minutes). Hopefully, though, it will at least convey to you the importance and effect of a big voice.

See what I mean? Even the anemic United Cetner crowd at a Blackhawks game can get into an anthem like that, and yet more and more often (and at bigger events, I might add), the quality of the singing of our national anthem is declining. More and more we are seeing young girls with high voices or marginally talented artists like Sheryl Crow or Billy Joel doing bad renditions of the anthem that make you sleepy before an event. Fuck that. I am sick of that.

As I mentioned, O Canada is a much better anthem than the Star Spangled Banner. It is short, sweet and at NHL games, the fans like to sing along, which is a pretty impressive and somewhat intimidating sight.

Things have not always been peachy when it comes to Canadian-U.S. Anthem relations, though. Classless fans in Montreal, San Jose, New York, Vancouver and other cities have booed the opposing country’s national anthem on occasion, which prompted Boston Bruins fans to step up and give a standing ovation during the singing of O Canada in October 2006, not long after Canadiens fans booed the crap out of the Star Spangled Banner.

The singing of the national anthems before the game is not the most important thing in the world, but I do think it is important enough to warrant some respect from the fans, and proper treatment from those who are in charge. I beg the promotions and public relations people throughout professional sports to leave the sopranos and the pianos and acoustic guitars and celebrity renditions for the minor leagues. Get yourself a big fat guy and do the anthem right.

Father’s Day

Today was my first Father’s Day as a Dad. I enjoyed it immensely. Last night, we hung out at the In-laws’ place. We dined on Italian sausage & potato wedges. I consumed much Goose Island 312 while sitting barefoot on their deck. It was a wonderful evening and I even got to see my sister in-law and her girlfriend, who have been M.I.A. for the past few weeks. My daughter, Grace, turned 4 months old on Wednesday. She had a cranky day yesterday, as she is beginning the wonderful process of teething, but even her crankiness could not ruin a wonderful, relaxing night with family. I received a beautiful framed picture of Grace that reads “Happy Father’s Day,” as well as a “Rookie Dad” t-shirt and hat combination as my first Father’s day gift.

We left Streamwood around 11 pm, came home and enjoyed some ice cream (wife and me…not the baby lol). Grace went to bed around 1:30, which is a little early for her. We have been trying to get her to bed earlier the past week, as prior to that she would stay up until 4 am and wake up at 11 or 12 the next day. As nice as it was to get 8 hours of straight sleep, it was making getting to work on time very difficult. Her new bed time is more reasonable, but she has been getting up a lot more often through the night to eat. Not quite sure why that is, but hopefully as the new time sets in a little more, she will go back to sleeping through the night. Our first wake up call was 6 am on the nose. We zombied our way through a feeding and went back to bed around 6:30 or 7. She got us up again at 10 or 11 or something like that. From then on, I just stayed up, as it was Father’s Day. I had numerous sporting events to watch. In addition to that, my parents were coming by for dinner. We were going to make a 3 pound top round that wife’s Mom had given us a few weeks earlier.

Around 12:30, we began thawing the frozen meat and preparing the marinade, which consisted of Lawry’s 30 minute mesquite marinade with lime juice, some worsteshire sauce, minced garlic, fresh lime juice and brown sugar. We got it in the fridge at 1 with the intent of giving it between 3 and 4 hours of time in the chill chest. At that point, I sat down and prepared myself for an afternoon of racing, golf and baseball.

The U.S. Grand Prix was on FOX. I have been watching a lot more racing recently, and since my buddy John made the trek out to Indy this week to see his boy Lewis Hamilton run, I figured I should watch. F1 is fantastically cool. The Indy 500 is fun because it happens once a year and because of the sheer speed, but street courses (you know left AND right turns) are more fun to watch. There is more planning and thinking to be done by the driver and the team, more variables and more action. I particularly like the on-board telemetry they show, when the driver is shifting and braking and the engines drop down to 6,500 RPM from 9 or 10,000. Plus, the races are only 73 laps, so you do not have to devote 3 or 4 hours to watch one race, which is nice if you are not a fanatic. Hamilton had won the pole position on Saturday and ended up winning the race rather handily. This all after winning the Canadian Grand Prix the weekend before. This Hamilton kid is good, and he’s got a good car too. He’s gotten me to pay more attention and hopefully others will follow suit, because F1 is so much more compelling than NASCAR.

During the race, I was, of course, flipping between the Cubs and Sox games. The Sox are in the midst of an awful streak in which they are floundering against bad AL and NL teams, while on the North Side, the Cubs have turned it up and are playing solid ball. Plus, on Saturday, the Cubs and Padres had a bench clearing brawl and Carlos Zambrano took a no-hitter into the 8th inning…so I was trying to keep an eye on both teams. Today’s games were rather uneventful, though, and I plan to do an in-depth post on both teams sometime this week, so I will digress and talk a little about what I was most excited about watching today, the U.S. Open at Oakmont Country Club in Pennsylvania.

Today’s final group in the Open was the young Aussie Aaron Baddeley and some guy named Tiger Woods. Baddeley came into Sunday with a 2 stroke lead on Tiger, which was erased on the very first, which Baddeley triple bogeyed. He never got his bearings after that and shot a disappointing +10 (80) and nowhere near the leaders.

As per usual for the U.S. Open, Oakmont was a torture chamber, with impossibly thick rough and impossibly fast greens. Many people bemoan how challenging this major is setup every year, but I personally love it. These are the best golfers in the entire world, and I would rather see a tightly contested match with numerous people in the hunt on Sunday than the silly tournaments where someone has it won on Saturday because he is twelve under. I like to see the people with the best game, the best swings and the best equipment challenged. I want to see them have to make difficult shots and difficult putts, and I want to see them punished for not playing consistently, and Oakmont gave us plenty of that, with only a handful of rounds throughout the whole weekend under par.

Talking with my buddy Brandon yesterday, we had made our picks. He chose Stephen Ames, who was 4 strokes back, and I went with my guy Jim Furyk who started the day 5 or 6 strokes back. Both gentlemen flirted with the lead all day, including a couple holes where Ames had the outright lead, but he ended up dropping down after spending a few too many holes in the rough. Furyk made a late charge, but it turned out to be a little too late, as he would end up tied with Tiger for 2nd. Angel Cabrera of Argentina was the pace car for most of the round today and was in the clubhouse with a 1 stroke lead over Tiger Woods with 2 holes to play. After a par on 17, Tiger need a birdie to force a playoff, but his second shot on 18 from the intermediate rough carried well past the hole, leaving a long putt for birdie, which he was unable to sink, giving Cabrera his first major win of his career. I am all about Tiger NOT winning, and Angel seems like a good dude, so I was happy. Plus, as I mentioned earlier, it was an exciting hour or two of golf, with the leader in the clubhouse so early and so many names still in the hunt, with Ames, Furyk, Tiger, Niclas Fasth and Steve Stricker all posing the threats throughout the Sunday round. In the end, though, Cabrera managed the course the best and deserved to win this tournament.

Of course, the tournament ended around 6:30…other things happened during that time. Earlier on in the day, right after I took our frozen pizza out of the oven, Grace had a major poo-poo diaper blowout which required an impromptu bath and outfit change. After that, Nik fed her and I straightened up the apartment a bit since we were having company later. Dusted all the tables, vacuumed the cat hair off the couches and cleaned the bathroom. By that point, we were nearing 0 hour on the meat. Since we had used such an acidic marinade, we did not want to leave it on the meat too long, so after 3 1/2 hours, we pulled it out of the fridge and I began prepping the (boxed) mashed potatoes and (canned) frenched green beans. I also fired up the grill and got it hot for searing purposes.

I gave the meat 5 minutes of sear per side, backed off and let it cook low on each side for 5 more minutes. Right when I was taking it’s temperature for doneness, my parents arrived. I buzzed them in, returned to the grill and took off the meat. I let it sit in a glass baking dish for 15 minutes while I prepared the taters and beans. Onces the sides were done I cut the meat and plated it, and reduced the jus with some Jack Daniel’s. I was running around like crazy and did not have a chance to snap a photograph, but it came out very well and everyone seemed to like it.

My Dad & I watched the end of the U.S. Open while we ate. They hung around for another hour or so after dinner, and Grace let both Grandma & Grandpa hold her and let Aunt Julia play with her. It was very nice. After they left, Grace crashed for an hour or two, which gave Nikki the opportunity to run to the store for supplies…and by supplies, I of course mean Ben & Jerry’s Oatmeal Cookie Crunch.

Grace fell asleep while I held her on my chest. While she and Nik were both out, it allowed me to catch up with our Comcast DVR, which has been roundly neglected of late. I had the most recent episode of the History Channel show “The Universe.” This past Tuesday’s episode dealt with some of the extra-terrestrial ways that the Earth might come to an end. Asteroids, expansion of the sun, the Big Rip and my personal favorite, gamma ray bursts from distant supernovas that will vaporize our atmosphere and everything else on the planet. No warning. No survivors. That would be something else. When Nik returned, I asked her to snap a picture of my little girl and me, a memento of our first Father’s Day together.

I am the one with the beard.

About 10 minute after Grace awoke from her coma, Nikki’s parents arrived, straight from a different Father’s Day celebration. I made a pot of coffee. Her brother Chris also came by a little later, and we all hung out, talked and played with the baby all night. We even gave Grace a quick bath before they left. She seemed a little perplexed by everyone watching her get washed, and she was moderately cranky afterwards, but by and large, it was just a nice, fun night spent with family. I don’t think I could have drawn up a more enjoyable first Father’s Day weekend.

06-14-07 Links & Tees…a lesson in mediocrity.

Links & Tees is a nine hole par 3 course on Lake Street in Addison. It is picturesque and plays as tough as you make it on yourself. The layout is nice, there is a lot of water, sand and super-thick rough. Postage stamp greens that are fairly fast and flat. In all honesty, there is no reason to not shoot in the thirties here every time, yet only one of our threesome would earn that distinction today.

I arrived at the course about 15 minutes before my Dad and Alex. It is an Addison Park District facility that includes miniature golf, a driving range and golf dome in addition to the executive course. I spent my extra time on the practice green getting a feel for my chipping and the speed of the greens. After my partner’s arrived, we headed out and I was very confident going into the first hole. Not just because I was coming off of a very solid round at Rolling Knolls last week, but my practice putts and lags were spot on after switching back to my Wilson putter from the old Billy Baroo.

Alex lead off and went far and right of the green. 122 is normally a strong pitching wedge for me, but I decided to go with a soft 9 iron, because it was really really hot and I wanted to pace myself.

Well…my tee shot went about 20 yards.

It didn’t make it to the fairway.

Second shot was another duff, on the fairway but short of the green.

Chipped on and had a long putt, which I crushed and cruised 10 feet past the hole.

It’s too hot today.

Dad notched a nice par after bumping and running up to within 5 feet. It would not be his only excellent approach shot this day.

Dad playing out of the gigantic, forward greenside bunker on the 4th hole. The ball flight looks good in this shot, but it did not make it up and he had to play his next shot from the rough.

Alex started off his round bogey, bogey, double, and it was all down hill from there. Not sure if it was the heat or his odd, checkered shorts, but he just did not have it today. Kept us entertained as usual, though. When Alex is bad…he is spectacularly bad. The kind of bad that you cannot believe…you know…the same kind of bad I have described myself as being in my other outings. When he is on tilt, though, he makes it fun to be out there. Always a stitch to hit the links with the self-proclaimed God of Golf.

Dad, on the other hand, was on point. Every approach was within 10 feet, most of them closer to 5 or 6. The only problem he had today was that he seemingly forgot what to do once the ball came to rest on the green near the hole. He may as well have been putting with a lacrosse stick. Take 6 or 7 strokes off his final score and that is what he should have shot. On the 7th hole, he put it within 6 feet off the tee and ended up three putting. I think he has finally taken to heart my suggestion to switch from that ridiculous bankroll putter he has, though, and once he rights his putting stroke, he will be very hard to beat.

Me…I was sketchy in every aspect of my game. Off the tee, on the green, near the green…everything. Biggest problem for me was my putting and my distance judgment and club choice, though. Some of the holes look and/or feel longer or shorter than they read. All in all, though, I recovered well and minimized the damage, but sheer stupidity cost me at least as many strokes as my Dad’s putting cost him. After a decent tee shot on 9, I chipped up within 4 feet and proceeded to drag my putter on the par putt, resulting in a tap in for bogey, wasting my only opportunity at a proper par all day.

The course was wide open and we got it done in about an hour and a half, taking our time and moving slow because of the heat. This was the first time I have played there this season and only the 2nd or 3rd time to play there ever. It is a nice way to spend an hour or so, and at only $12 it is worth the price.

Why hello 9th hole at Links & Tees. Mighty fine gigantic bunker you have there.

Plenty of hazards, challenging rough and an overall nice look and feel make the Links & Tees a nice place to get some work on your short game. My major quibble is that the bunkers, although large and intimidating, are fairly hard and do not play like they should. Were they to dump another half inch of soft beach sand on top of the hard stuff…then that would be a tough go.

Have a go at this scorecard. GG Alex!!!!

Hole	1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	9	Out
Yardage	122	158	82	186	117	125	129	96	146	1161
Par	3	3	3	3	3	3	3	3	3	27
Alex	4	4	5	7	6	7	7	10	10	60
Dad	3	5	4	5	4	3	4	6	4	38
Me	5	4	4	6	5	5	4	4	4	41

There ought to be a law!

Can someone please explain to me why the pimple-ridden teenage cashier at Dominick’s cannot drag my bottle of whiskey across the scanner at the checkout? I understand that minors are not allowed to sell alcohol, but the cashier is not the one selling it to me. The store is. There is no reason I have ever been given that adequately explains the reason why my checkout process has to come to a screeching halt while we wait for the sixty-something cashier down a few lanes to put her whole line on hold, walk over, punch in some numbers, swipe the bottle, check my ID, punch in more numbers and then give the whole show back to the teenager. It doesn’s make a damn bit of sense. I am still giving the cash or payment to a minor…just because he or she did not scan the bottle makes a damn bit of difference? I think not.

There needs to be a goddamn reform in this stupid law, or some forward thinking store has to keep the fucking kids stocking shelves and pushing carts and let the goddamn adults run the checkouts. Everyone in line hates it when the cashier starts calling out “21!” I try to pick out cashiers that are of-age, but sometimes there is only 1 or 2 lines open and neither of them are old enough. It is dumb and needs to be rethought.

After all of this frustration, though, at least I was able to pick up a bottle of Woodford Reserve on mega clearance for $15.99. Frustration aside, it will be all worth it tonight when I crack that puppy open after work and put it on some ice.