Blame It On The ‘Shine
Posted by mojoe4u
As much as I would like to use the peppy yet upbeat lyrics from Milli Vanilli’s “Blame it on the Rain”, it just can’t happen. I won’t let it; the rain isn’t to blame – only the crystal-clear, head-splitting, vomit-causing disaster known as ‘shine. This is only a precursor for later in the story, so let’s take a recap of the weekend.
Friday evening rolls around and I’m off to meet Jeremiah at George Ward. Stuck in traffic and 30 minutes late I finally roll into the parking lot with a handful of tall boys and an enthusiastic demeanor. Unfortunately neither lasted very long; some d-bag intent on crushing my short-lived hopes and dreams found it amusing to change the pin location on every hole. Even though Jeremiah and myself finished with our personal course bests (9 and 21 over respectively), I still found it necessary to mumble a steady stream of unsavory words from hole to hole. On a side note, this was the first time to play disc golf without Stephen at my side. And if you’re wondering, the answer is yes – I did find it a bit unsettling but still managed to pull through albeit slightly distraught.
Saturday evening and I’ve just finished a landscaping job – off to George Ward again. I show up on time but look and smell like a prostitute from the Wild West; covered in a mulch/topsoil/funk mixture from head to toe as well an unsavory sour smell that has stayed with me since the job site. I love it. Stephen and Jeremiah show up shortly and the pre-game at the trunk begins; a touch of the ‘shine and BL Lime as a chaser. Tip, sip, swallow, burn, burn, burn, repeat. Off to a good start and my cursing from yesterday resumes though only for every other hole since I actually know where the pin locations are this time. We were able to witness a block party going on in the parking lot and outdoor sheds beginning on #15 thru #17 that had deep bass tracks reverberating throughout the whole park. We also saw a younger fellow under the influence of something other alcohol lose track of his disc after it hit a tree directly ahead of him, 10 yards away on #1 tee. Good times. At the end of the day, I finished 22 over while Stephen rocked out with a 9 over. Perhaps the secret to his success (and maybe my demise) was the sweat producing/intestinal burning/pore permeating hooch?