Wednesday, November 16, 2005

In which this fine blog wins an accolade, and Canadians fail to make it through Q-school

In case you can't make any sense of my strange headlines lately, I'm trying to write the subheads like the decks on 1920s serials -- you know, Man on the Loose -- In which our hero gets more than he bargained for and Mildred finds her mop -- that sort of thing. I'll probably stop after today. Even I think it is kind of ridiculous.
In anycase, Jay Flemma, the man obsessed with Jim Engh and Lines of Charm, disagreed with my post yesterday on Geoff Shackelford's satire on Golf Digest's gathering in Orlando. Anyway, Jay says:
Don't feed the beast, slay the beast...one spear at a time.

Actually, I don't have any problem poking fun at a $1,200 rating seminar. I can't figure out why people would need such a thing -- aren't they supposed to already know what makes a good golf course and what separates it from the pack? Oh yeah, that's right -- the Canadian faction voted The Rock last year. Maybe they do need some deprogramming.
All I was trying to say is that I think Geoff's poke at GD was a little too obvious and, well, not funny. It could have been funny though....

So though A Walk in the Park didn't care for my Shackelford comment, he did note that his blog has presented me with a "Jazzy" award for best golf blog. Jay, you are very kind. You can read his post here. Apparently the award is being presented in honor of golf blogger, Bunker Mulligan, a Texan who passed away from a heart attack mid-year. He was one of my regular readers and often left comments. He is missed.

I don't think I'm going to do any awards, but I'll tell you one course that should win one -- Eagles Nest, Doug Carrick's effort in North Toronto is the best modern course to open in Canada in recent memory. If it doesn't win the Best New Award for Canada in GD, then something is wrong.

Spent some time recently (while not pounding out the book on Ron Joyce and donuts) reading Reluctant Jam Boy's most excellent blog about caddying. In the ever changing saga of a caddy at a country club, Jam Boy meets a hopped up chick, doesn't have sex with her and then moves to FLA with a new job. How rare is it to get crystal meth and golf in the same story. Excellent.

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