Ah yes, Cali-forn-i-a, where the sun shines all year. Where it’s never too hot, never too cold, and the avocados are always ripe. For golfers, America’s Golden State has long lived up to its nickname – a veritable Queensland Of The North, minus the humidity and homicidal reptiles. Unless you’re this poor sap, that is…
Holy smokes. This is the “heavy stuff” Spackler was talking about. Seventy-mile-per-hour winds, raining sideways, surf threatening to pull you down to Davey Jones’ clubhouse. The fact this brave soul was able to get his ball to stay on the tee, let alone make contact, defies everything we know about physics. Some might even call it divine intervention.
As for the decision to play in this weather, it’s crazy all right… but we get it. You finally get a tee-time at Golf Digest’s third-ranked course in America. You schlepp it all the way to the Pacific Ocean from who-knows-where. You pat yourself on the back. Congrats, kid. You deserve this. Then Mother Nature drops a typhoon in your lap. Do you pack it in and admit defeat or do text your loved ones goodbye and step into the breach? I think we all know the answer to that question.
Plus, look on the bright side: at least you’re not going to slice it.
