Tin Cup

Recently I got to play golf again. I'm really starting to think that the best part of my game is the tan I get from my short walks between swings. The good news is that if you count my strokes, I'm actually playing 3 games of golf for the price of one.

That being said, the last time I hit the lynx (and I mean that literally... I was digging holes in the fairway that would make the Tennessee Department of Transportation proud) I managed to make a few pretty good shots. One of those shots was about a 30 foot put from off of the green. It's because of those shots (and the ability to drive the golf carts like we stole them) that I keep going back.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "Staffman, how can you sink a 30 foot putt and still be so bad..." Well, I'll tell you. The answer is mini-golf and lots of it. The Staffman family has a long and proud tradition of fierce mini-golf competition. More than once power struggles within the family were decided by who could best bank the ball off of the wall, through a cave, under a windmill, into a clown's mouth... etc. Occassionally, this mini-golf experience translates into a pretty good putt.

Sometime soon I'm supposed to play a very nice local course that I would not be able to afford if Spike's wife hadn't won two free V.I.P. rounds from a radio station. I don't know what a V.I.P. round is. What I do know is that if you take the greens fee at this course (or any other for that matter) and then deduct from that the amount required to fix the damage done to the course after I "play" a round, I come out way, way, way ahead.