Thursday, August 26, 2010

Whistling Bunkers


A travesty. An outright travesty, I tell you. But before I go any further with this, I feel I must inform you, my golf knowledge....not up to par. Pun extremely intended. However, I did grade out at 100 on my golfing final exam. That's right, I took golf in college. Well, half golf...the other half of the semester I teamed with my good buddy Kelvin to form one of the most dominating and dynamic duos ever seen in the great sport of badminton. Back to my original point, my golf instructor was a man named Kwok. He stood 4'10", weighed 97 lbs. if he had a monster breakfast, and spoke very little English...but enough to award me a perfect score on the final, which was simply one swing with a driver. But it went far, and straight. Sounds like 100 to me.
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Now that you know of my extensive golf background, you understand I'm probably not that familiar with many of the nuances and unwritten rules of the game. But whatever. I'm nasty at putt-putt, and feel like I should speak on this situation. How dare the people of Whistling Straits take away the ability of Dustin Johnson....Dutch Fork's own, Dustin Johnson, I remind you...to participate in a playoff for his first major. Admitedly, I may be a tad biased since we did go to the same high school, but still. If it's 400 yards off the course, and people have stood, sat, trampled, had picnics, and in some cases slept on it...and it looks like a patch of dirt...THEN WHY WOULD IT BE A BUNKER?!? Seems a little silly to me, but then again, so does a course named Whistling Straits. My goodness.

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