Eye On The Birdie – Post #21 The Grants Trip/Tournament

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Welcome to the twenty-first installation of Eye On The Birdie! (I know the title is a little odd, but please roll with it for now.) The Grants tournament was the first two-day tournament I attended, although I suppose it was technically two tournaments on two consecutive days. Both were simply qualifying tournaments, and in those two days I got my best and my worst score of the season. I also call it a trip because it was in many ways.

To begin, I must explain some important details. First, I did not travel with the rest of the team. Second, I had gone down to Albuquerque two days before the tournament began to visit family who rarely come to the area. The first important detail is a direct result of the second—the main reason I did not travel with the team was so I could spend an extra day with my relatives.

I will start my retelling with the morning of the day of the first tournament. Since we had spent the night at my grandparents’ house in Albuquerque, I had to get up much too early for my liking. (Believe it or not, tomorrow will be the eleventh morning in a row I have gotten up before seven. I am looking forward to Friday night.) My mom drove my siblings and I down to Grants, where they dropped me off at the golf course and then went to meet the rest of the relatives at the Ice Cave. (See what I give up for my sport?)

I am very sorry to say that I did not enjoy holes three through eleven of the tournament. I don’t know exactly why, although it probably had something to do with the fact that I was playing very poorly and didn’t know my surroundings very well (that tends to throw me off my game a little.) Also, it was windy, very windy. That made everything harder. I could go on, but I might end up saying some unkind things about my school make-up workload. However, I had a good time for the other nine holes. On hole something-or-other, I got a par I was quite proud of, as it was my only one. The three people I played with were very nice—I even knew one of them from the First Tee! I finished with a grand total of 106. This was very good for two reasons: 106 is a very good worst score (because it means you do better than that the rest of the time) and I thought I would be getting a 108, at least. The tournament was also wonderful practice for holding it together when you really don’t want to hold it together. I discovered that I could use a little more practice with that.

I will cover the second day more fully because I liked it more. The night before the second tournament, my mom declared she was going to get us to bed early. We then stayed up till ten watching TV and, in my case, doing homework. The next morning, we got to the golf course roughly on time, and my mother absconded to a national park with my siblings. This tournament, I was paired with only two people—a very nice junior and a remarkable eighth grader. I started out much the same as I had the last day score-wise, but for some undeterminable reason, I was much happier. Go figure. Anyway, I got more than one par and—an unheard of achievement for Birdie—no nines! I don’t believe I’ve ever completed a Varsity tournament without getting nine or more on at least one hole. Once, I got two birdies… and also a nine and a ten. Aren’t I incredible? I also saw lots of birds. There were northern harriers, Stellar’s jays, a greater white-fronted goose, some kind of ibis, and lots and lots of assorted waterfowl. Of course, that’s not related to golf, but I felt I should include it. After all, it is part of the reasoning behind my pseudonym. After it was all over, I had my lowest score ever (an absence of nines will do that to you)—a 96! I only missed qualifying by one stroke. Not that I minded. I was playing against my previous score, not the qualifying score. As 106 is a rather easy score for me to beat on a par 71 course, it was an easy competition. (Anyway, state sounds terrifying.)

This concludes the fall season of high school golf. I am now returning to martial arts after a year and a half because I finally have time for it again. Hopefully, punching foam pads as hard as I can will console me.



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