I would've expressed a lot more Happy Gilmore-esque anger Saturday
if I actually believed I had golfing ability of any substance.
Despite the soaring temperatures, alleged foreclosure status of the golf course and jarring lack of pro-narcotic cart hostesses, the second Annual Spitblood Scramble was a rousing success. With a reported 85 entrants this year, last year's record number of 49 was easily bested which means more dough for the Purple People Seaters. The official number hasn't been tallied, but at $100 a pop, that's $8500 before you take out overhead like the cost of prizes and whatever amount THEFINCH figures he can reasonably launder through his company without raising the eyebrows of the SEC and, more importantly, the SpitBlood Commentariat.
Superlatives-wise, with a so-low-it-cant-possibly-be-genuine score of 56, our winners were the team of Paxton Motherall, John Wynne, Todd Davenport and Hunter Harris. I know of a particular team that may have taken a few liberties on their scorecard and may have counted a few putts that may or may not have seen the bottom of the cup in real life, and they still only managed to shoot 6 under par, so whatever methods employed by our winners are doubly impressive. All jokes aside, that's an absolutely phenomenal score and, considering two members of said team were a part of last year's runner up squad, I think it's safe to say all of those guys knew their way around the green. And as several of their drives reportedly almost killed the group in front of them even when they were hitting their third shots, it's clear they're a friend of the long ball as well.
Coming up just short with a solid score of 58 was the team of Tate Nichols, Corey Leedy, John McNey and Taylor Nichols. I am sure the two Nichols' will hold their victory proudly over their older brother, especially as his entire team was seen wearing custom made "Champion" shirts before the round began, a pre-mature ejaculation of confidence if there ever was one. Northern Ireland may be the current Valhalla of golfing talent in the PGA ranks, but it looks like little Farwell, Texas may not be far behind.
Taking bronze with a score of 61 was the group comprising Ronny Dale Smith, David Greer, Ed Jones and Brian Garza. I am not personally familiar with any of those guys, so I don't have any personal anecdotes to offer up, but we should be proud of them nonetheless. Congratulations, guys and thanks for playing.
Quickly - the longest drive champion was Tyler Talman and the closest to the hole, Ben Peveto.
However, only one team can boast the honor of defending their title, and that would be the prestigious, tour-ready crew of Luke Wittenbraker, Anthony Diaz, Jeff Proctor and John Robert Wunderlick, who was filling in for the crippled Bryan Athon who, to his credit, helped coach his team to a blazing, dead-ass-last score of 71, walking boot and all. To be completely honest, this score doesn't seem THAT bad. I mean, yes, in a four man scramble with potentially 8 mulligans you should manage better than one under, but I kind of expected a John Daly-esque blow up to rule the day here. But still, those four guys came in boasting of their desires to reclaim their throne, and by god they did just that. Can they make it three next year? That alone should be worth the price of entry.
Spitblood warmly thanks everyone who came out to play this year and we hope to see you again next year. The money raised will certainly be valuable to the Purple Seaters who not only give under priviliged children the opportunity to escape their daily lives a few Saturdays a year at a TCU game, but also grow the next generation of Horned Frog fans. I am sure most other schools in the country have groups similar to PPS, but I have a feeling its not quite as popular in Ames, IA as it is in Fort Worth. Lucky, lucky kids.
As for my take on the tournament, few times a year can a married guy like myself spend an afternoon hopped up on prescription amphetamines, drink free beer, swill actual viking mead, and smoke cigarettes with a frequency that would make Fort Worth's most famous aficionado of chemically enhanced tobacco products Ben Hogan turn over in his grave, and for that alone I would call the day a success. Whitestone Golf Club has been a great host these past two years and I hope we are able to keep them as a permanent host for the near future. Who knows - perhaps our annual hedonism fest on the links can turn Benbrook into the next Augusta, Georgia? Only time will tell. See you all next year.