Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Old Dog for the hard road

For the past 9 years my friend eliot, myself, and our dad's play a little golf tournament against each other. We call it the Piss Pot Open, we have a trophy and anything. Eliot and I play our dad's in a handicapped match play format. In High School we went away on Spring Break to play, our graduation present was a week in Ireland chasing a little white ball around as Irishmen with impossibly harsh accents found our balls in unspeakable places as they lugged our golf bags around...

The "Piss Pot Open" was always a battle. It would take place over the course of the entire week. Each 18 holes match was worth a point, we would play 5 matches. Winner take all. Eliot's dad, Rob is a very good golfer and an extraordinarily funny guy. He always reminded me of Jeff Daniels. Rob had a saying, it was a great saying and as far as I am concerned he invented it. It was "The old Dog for the hard road." He lovingly referred to himself and my father as "the old dogs." The guys who were ready for the battle, the hard road...Eliot and I we were the "Pups."

Anytime a difficult or important putt was holed by them there was always the rallying cry, "the old dogs for the hard road." Many of my memories of these trips are also haunted by barking, never by my father. But by Rob.

No lead was safe against the "Old Dogs." They had the life experience, even though most of that experience was just simple life experience. Even though most of that experience was them just knowing that at some point we would make a mistake, we would hit the ball somewhere bad. And when we did, they were sure to make sure we remembered who we were... the "pups."

I remember Rob at Mid Ocean getting a hole-in-one on the 17th hole one year while playing in Bermuda. Eliot had hit his shot to about 3 feet, we needed to simply tie the hole to win the match. We walked up to the green and couldnt find Rob's ball (we didnt see it go in from the tee). Finally our grumpy caddie, Red, suggested checking the hole. There it was, in the hole. And there was Rob and my Dad exchanging high fives. And there was Eliot and I looking at each other thinking how did we lose a 3 hole lead?

As I was watching the most recent C's-Bulls masterpiece I couldnt help thinking that this series was turning into an "Old Dogs" vs, "Pups" battle. The C's were the "Old Dogs", the ones who were down. The ones who looked a bit old, the ones who had the experience. The Bulls looked like the "Pups." Desperately holding on to the lead. Desperately looking for a way to explain where the lead went. And in the end, trying to figure out how they lost.

I wrote a running diary and hated it, but I wrote this as my last post before I put down the computer and watched the end of the game.
9:23pm- Its down to Pierce at this point. No Ray Ray no KG. Rondo can help, but Pierce is gonna be the one to win this game...

I swear that is not a doctored/retroactive thought.

The C's are the "Old Dog." The Bulls lie in front of them as the "Pups." It's looked like the "Pups" are on the brink of turning the corner. But take it from me, a certified "Pup." As soon as you start thinking that, the "Old Dogs" use that experience and put you away...

No comments: