Ivan?

Man, I tell ya. It was 8 pm last night when I decided to lay down for about an hour to take a quick “power nap.” I figured if I did THAT I might have some energy to say what I needed to say in writing. So I set my alarm for 9 and CRASHED. My alarm wakes me up at 4:10 am. 4:10 AM. Wow. That means the alarm HAD to be going off every 15-20 minutes since 9 pm. And I STILL didn't wake up? Craziness. Sorry guys. I really wanted to post last night but apparently I needed to slip into a coma for a little while.

So WHAT is up friends?

Well, now that I think about it, there were only two highlights from yesterday worth noting.

The first was obvious. The "Half Baked" cousin. He walked in yesterday morning COMPLETELY flustered.

"Man, my cousin fucking LEFT yesterday without telling me. He left without paying the $550 he owed me for rent."

That was the first thing he said when he walked in the door. What a start to my day. Half of me felt sorry for him and the other half felt like crap that I hadn't called him to at least warn him about this whole situation. So wait. I guess that means BOTH halves of me wished I had told him. Ahh well. No use crying over spilled milk.

"I was up until 3 am last night calling his relatives to try and figure out where the hell he was and what the hell was going on. I still have to fuckin' call Greyhound to see if he even GOT onto that bus down to Florida."

Well yes, he got on the bus. I can tell you that much. Oh wait. I can't. Sorry man. I didn’t mean for you to be up all night worried sick over where this kid was. I didn’t even think you cared.

And now here's the tough thing: he knows I was THERE in the room yesterday and didn't say anything to him about what had happened. So now, if he finds out about what I did, I'm in for a shitty day. If that day ever comes, I’m sure I’ll be telling you guys about it. Hopefully. I hope I can survive that monster. I should PROBABLY start doing some more push-ups.

The only other interesting thing that happened yesterday was that I carried two bags (one of them had a freakin' THONG for a shoulder strap--it sucked) and one of the players' I caddied for had a four-letter last name. And for some reason, I couldn't remember what the hell his last name was, even after 18 holes. I really tried too. Although, I suppose when your last name is only four letters long, your name just gets kinda lost in the crowd or something, right? No. I'm sure they don't. I'm just a dumbass. But I tell you, it sucks coming off of the 18th green to shake somebody's hand and you draw and freakin' BLANK on a four-letter last name.

So that was about it from yesterday. Exciting, I know.

Now about today. I had to come in early this morning because the loops were going to be scarce. The senior caddies were already assigned for the day and there were maybe only 5-10 spots left to fill. So that meant that the first 10 guys to show up this morning were going to get work, and the rest were pretty much screwed. So I made sure to wake up at the ass-crack. I rolled in at 6:38 and I was the third caddie to sign up. That's HARDCORE.

My number was finally called about an hour later, and I think my boss referred to me as "Ivan" for some reason. I thought I was hearing things, and then the caddie next to me leaned over and said, "Dude. Did he just call you 'Ivan’?"

To avoid an aneurism, I stopped trying to figure out why my boss called me "Ivan" and decided to think about boobs and funnel cakes instead. Don't ask. They always go together, and they’re MUCH more pleasant to think about. I mean come on, do I LOOK like an Ivan?

And as a quick aside: Why the hell are they called “funnel cakes”? Where I come from, it’s just called “fried dough.” It’s a simple name and there’s no mystery as to where it came from. But “funnel cakes”? That would be like calling “tornadoes” “diving boards.”

“Lord have mercy! Here come the diving boards again Pa!”

“Grab your brother and sister while I open up the shelter! Boy do I HATE diving boards!”

So I walk outside to see who I’ve been paired up with and it looks like a 2-up 2-down job (two walking, two riding), except there's already a caddie standing there. What the hell?

As soon as I see this obvious dilemma the boss comes over to me and mumbles, "Sorry man, I tried. Two of them want to ride today so it looks like you can take the day off if you want to."

But just then--as if to prove my theory correct--Mr. Nice-Guy walks over to shake my hand.

"Well hello there Tom. Will you be joining us today?"

My boss quickly responded: "I tried to fit him in, but it looks like two in your group will be riding today. I think the other caddie is going to have it taken care of."

There was an awkward pause, and then the other caddie blurts out, "Hey, I'd be more than happy to let another caddie come in on this."

Sweet.

So maybe my theory is half right: Mr. Nice-Guy got the ball rolling by trying to get me work, and then the other caddie finished the job by being generous enough to share his good fortune with me. It’s a nice one-two combo. So cool. I get an easy loop with a familiar face and the sky is COMPLETELY overcast. So the weather was finally going to be bearable for a while.

And it was a great round. Mr. Nice-Guy and his partner ended up winning the match and I was able to make some good reads on the greens to help them out along the way. The only thing I’m going to have to think about is how I can help out Mr. Nice-Guy. He has a really solid swing, but his mental game is so fragile. One mishit and he’s out of it for a hole or two. To give advice or NOT to give advice. That is the question.