It's silly I golfed, or at least that I waited until 10:30 a.m. to start. I hit half a bucket of balls at First Tee, walked into the clubhouse and read the paper, hit the other half, walked back in, changed shirts, then played the par-3 course. I sat in the shade for four minutes between holes, and drank a shit load of water after Holes 1, 4, and 7. I played balls from the boys' tees, in 36, and girls', in 34, or a total of 70. I had 7 pars, 6 bogeys, and 5 doubles, and used 38 putts.
It's 101 at 5:09 p.m. Central. I walked the Levy Loop in 32:44.
OVERHEARD
"Good. If you did I would've called 911."
—maintenance man at First Tee, after he saw me lying flat on my back in shade by the No. 7 tee box, parked his cart nearby, and watched me smile and sit up to say, "I don't feel nearly as bad as I look."
"What do you think would happen if we just filled it up with a bunch of mud?"
"I don't know, but we gotta try something before dad gets home."
—the two kids from whom BP derived their most recent relief effort
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