Golf

Again I missed the annual excursion to play golf in and around Reno, Nev. immediately following Labor Day.
But pholks, being the optimist I try to be, the phrase “wait 'til next year” rides again. Of course that refrain is long etched into the mind of a die-hard Dodger fan so now it serves a double role.

The Reno trek is an annual event started several decades ago by avid Woodlake golfer Peter Legakes and a few of his closest friends. Pete is gone but the trip continues with sometimes as many of four dozen golfers and wanta-be golfers (AKA duffers) heading to Reno on a guys only four day outing, beginning on Tuesday, the day after Labor Day. The trip officially is called the PGA (Pete's Golf Classic) but is not to be confused with the real PGA (Professional Golf Association). I made about three of the Nevada safaris but have missed the last several, despite my “Wait 'til next year” vocal pronouncement.

Even though there were indications this time around that Reno and the Silver Legacy might not be next year's destination, the veterans says they are going, possibly to a location south of Carson City.

Only about two dozen guys made this year's trip but reports are that all returned safely with the only apparently casualties being damaged golf egos. Of course, it must be noted that about a third of those making the trip play only two or three times a year.

The adages “winning isn't everything,” and “it's how you play the game that counts” are significant at this PGA event.

I rely on my update from my friend Jim Whiteside who lives in Long Beach but spends several weeks at a time at his home away from home in Elderwood and has become one of the Reno regulars. He says he's eager to go again no matter where the trip headquarters land. Strong winds on Wednesday at Red Hawk Golf Resort near Sparks provided the most excitement and frustration.

“The wind was so strong at times, it practically blew us off the tee,” he said.

Heck, pholks that might have helped me if I was playing and the wind was at my back. It also might have straightened out my frequent hook which occurs when I get the darned ball off the ground more than 140 yards.

Jim chuckled when I told him that, evidence that he knows how I play. He didn't comment on the wind direction, but simply chuckled, an indication that even a hurricane wouldn't have made me a contender.

And as far as I have been able to determine, none of this year's “golfers” hit it big at the casinos, a topic which traditionally is included in post PGA debriefings.

One of the traditions of the so-called two-day tournament is that the prize money for each day's winning team is donated back to the entire group and gambled in an attempt to win enough to buy dinner that night with any excess going to team member.

Generally it is bet on the craps tables and at times the yield has been quite good. The last couple of years, reports say, everyone was on their own for dinner. This year, according to Jim, the blackjack tables got the play and everyone ended up fending for himself.

So here I'm hoping the Dodger ownership divorce battle ends in a way to improve the ball team for next year while I start my savings plan to finance the next PGA. So far, I have $2.17 in recycled can and bottle refunds.

It's a start.