Taken from a daily diary sent via email during the actual event:

Sunday, October 27

This spring I signed up to volunteer for the Tour Championship at East Lake Golf Club in Atlanta (the home course of legend Bobby Jones), even taking a week's vacation for the occasion. It all started today.

Because East Lake is a residential community, there's no room for parking. So everyone parks 10 minutes away at Turner Field and takes the shuttle to the course. No problem there. It's easier to get to Turner anyway.

We had a program at 3 p.m. by the 18th green to introduce the big wigs, who thanked us for giving our time and effort to make the 20,000 spectators enjoy themselves. There are about 1,000 of us, about 75% male, ranging in age from fun retired folks to teenagers looking to miss a few classes.

THE TOUR CHAMPIONSHIP > Where: East Lake Golf Club, Atlanta (par 70, 7,029 yards) > Purse: $5 milion ($900,000 to winner) > Field: The PGA Tour's top 30 money-winners > Format: 72 holes, no cut, $81,000 minimum prize money. > Defending champion: Mike Weir (who did not qualify for this year's tournament) > Schedule of events: Practice rounds Monday and Wednesday, 9 a.m.; Pro-Am Tuesday, 9 a.m. Wednesday, 9 a.m., practice range; Payne Stewart Award presentation ceremony, Wednesday, 3 p.m.; Championship rounds 11 a.m. Thursday, Friday and Sun; 9:30 a.m. Saturday. > Tickets: Practice rounds $30 (Monday through Wednesday); $55 championship rounds (Thursday-Sunday). >On the Internet at www.tourchampionship.pgatour.com.

After the meeting we split up for committee meetings. I'll be in the Communications trailer, monitoring audio traffic between the various groups and handing out walkie-talkies and cell phones, replacing batteries, and really just watching the tournament on the TV in the trailer adjacent to the 18th. There's actually a guy, Dana, who does this for a living, since it's his company that supplies the equipment and keeps up with everything. So I'm really just a gopher, giving Dana and the committee chairman, Alex, a break now and then.

Otherwise I'll have plenty of time to wander the course, enjoy free food at the volunteer tent and take advantage of merchandise discounts. Not that I need it, since when we signed up it cost $100, covering a uniform shirt and windbreaker. We even got a pass for two to play the sister course, Charlie Yates Golf Club, an executive course, sometime in the future.

It's not often you get to hang out at a golf course during your vacation with the 30 best players in the world, so I look forward to a fun week!

Monday, Oct. 28

Got off work at 5:30 a.m., last day until next Monday because of the tournament. Went home, napped and headed back to East Lake before noon. It rained in the morning, so the course was damp, and fans and players were scarce for the practice round. I walked around the course for an hour or so, seeing a few players here and there, with only a few on the course (the field is only the top 30, anyway, so there aren't 140 like a usual tournament), and a few on the practice tee and green. Of the 1,000 volunteers, many also were off due to the lax attitude of the practice round, so I was walking with fans down fairways when players weren't around, enjoying the view from the players' point of view.

Something about walking around with a badge, you feel a little more official. Head up, shoulders back, strolling through the course with authority, even though I was seeing the course for the first time in my life. I did help out some vendors though, in my first act of helping out, pointing out the sixth hole as they drove up to ask on the cart path. Luckily I had just passed the hole a few minutes before, so I could get it right.

The course is one of the wonderful old courses where the holes are bunched up, and spectators can watch two, three, sometimes four holes at once, and you can see the entire layout from the hills on the back nine overlooking the East Lake that dominates the features of the course and the front nine beyond. It reminds me a lot of Colonial in Memphis, where I saw many a Danny Thomas St. Jude Classic growing up. Too bad the now-FedEx St. Jude Classic moved to the cookie-cutter TPC course at Southwind, where you can't see more than one hole at a time, and have to walk miles and miles to see the entire course.

This isn't a new problem at PGA events, but it seems that they only hold the tournament for the corporate suits who put up tents out the wazoo and even take up precious space around the 17th and 18th greens with private dining pavilions. The 'normal' fans shelling out $50 for tickets Thursday-Sunday have to fight for room by the greens and in the limited stands. Great tournament for fans seeking autographs, though. If I don't have to work Wednesday during the final practice round, I may buy one of the tournament flags and seek some signatures.

Unfortunately, the rain today was from the remnants of Hurricane Kenna, meaning the tropical system produced one of the muggiest days of the year. Ugh. You sweat just by thinking about walking outside. It was actually a welcome sight to see a series of major gullywashers rumble through at 3:30, even if it did kick the golfers off the course. I had been in the Communications trailer, so at least I was dry, eating my BBQ pork sandwich and BBQ chips from the volunteer concessions.

There are seven of us on the Communications committee, with only a few working each day. Super-Dana, who travels tournament to tournament organizing the setup of radios and cell phones, is there from 6 a.m. until after 8 p.m., but he's paid to do it so wouldn't you hang out at a golf course for a job? Besides, there's plenty of down time, so he passes the time playing Diablo on his laptop. I read the newspaper. Dana does travel a lot, though, some 225 days a year, but he has no wife or children and thus has nothing to miss. The chairman, Alex, lives an hour east of Atlanta near historic Madison, on a farm with a few horsies. The common workers include myself, Sue, Jerry, Mark and Derek, all old enough to be my parents and together the last few tournaments. Most of them worked together at Southern Company, an energy giant, who once sponsored the tournament (now it's Coke), so they just decided to keep coming. Don't blame them. Can't beat hanging out at a major tournament for $100 for a uniform and all the golf you can watch.

Since everyone was stuck on the course, no one was in a hurry to turn in their radios, so my chairman, Alex, told me to get out before rush hour traffic was any worse. I ducked out, hopped on the shuttle back to Turner Field and crawled through downtown traffic. I would actually rather drive through downtown in the rain at 5 mph than 60 mph because I don't trust the drivers beside me on wet roads further than my nephew can throw them.

Tomorrow is the Pro-Am, so things should pick up considerably. Assuming the rain goes away.

Tuesday, Oct. 29, 2002

Who says a vacation is supposed to be relaxing? After a lazy day during a practice round on Monday, there was a Pro-Am today. Things finally kicked into gear, giving us volunteers a chance at a dry run for the real deal Thursday-Sunday. It was a 12-hour day for me, leaving home at 6:45 a.m., working from 7:30-5, then getting home after 6:30 p.m.

What did I learn? First off, one should wear shoes he doesn't plan on using again. Ever. After an inch of rain yesterday on top of a few more the last week, East Lake was soaked. No amount of drainage could help at this point. It's kind of like when you have a cold, and you sneeze and sneeze and sneeze, yet there always manages to be some gooey gross stuff in your nose, and that which does drain down your throat leaves you sore.

The volunteer tent and trailer area adjacent to the 18th hole is a mess. Mud is in piles everywhere, no matter how much pine straw was laid last night. It's all squished into the mud. Thankfully, by mid-morning the maintenance guys built a pontoon system of wooden planks to get the golf carts out of the shed (they'd been stuck there all morning) and allow us to step outside the trailer without summoning a flat-bottom boat for a gator tour of the complex. Still, you had to wander through mud to get to the concessions, bathroom and the main tent. It was the kind of day where the first few hours you plan your steps carefully to avoid the mess, but by lunch you don't care anymore and walk willy-nilly through the muck since your shoes and pants are ruined already.

From 7:30 to 9 it was very busy, with only me and Super-Dana in the Communications trailer, handing out radios and changing out batteries for those in the field. When a couple more guys showed up it was time for donuts in the main volunteer tent. This was also a good opportunity to woo the caterer working the volunteer concessions area. Hellooo, doll-face.

Between 10 and 11, I walked around to see some of the Pro-Am (meaning the most popular word of the day was "FORE!" - one volunteer went to the hospital after getting hit on the head).

Players began teeing off at 9 a.m. from tees No. 1 and 10. Tiger went off first at No. 1, and Phil Mickelson was first off the back nine. I caught up to Tiger on No. 6, a par three over water, where he let the little kid following the group putt out for him. After a walk around the course I stopped behind the 18th tee to wait for lefty Mickelson finish his front nine.

Yesterday I mentioned that there is too much corporate kissing-up by the PGA. The 18th tee is a perfect example. Being a par three, you can see the entire finishing hole from the bleachers behind the tee box, and you should be able to see the 17th green just 75 yards to the left, which would to the most exciting place to see two holes at once on the course. Would remind me of the 11th and 12th hole setup at Augusta National. I say "would" because there are two dining chalets for the fat cats blocking the view of the 17th green from the 18th tee area. Un-BEE-lievably terrible idea by the big wigs; "Tough luck, you cheapie fans who pay only $55 a day for the tournament, you aren't important enough." I can understand the main sponsors getting favorable treatment (for instance, whenever Coca-Cola, the main sponsor, calls, we jump ten feet high), but let's stick to leaving all tents between fairways or behind greens that don't block others.

The afternoon was spent in the trailer and running errands, such as carrying batteries and/or radios to officials on the course. I even had Billy Payne, the MAIN guy, calling me by my first name (it's Jeff, by the way, in case you forgot). This was nice, since he is a beloved Atlanta figure. Heck, the man has a statue in Centennial Park downtown to celebrate his efforts in getting the '96 Olympics in town. So when he knows my name, I feel good. But I already did, since walking around a packed course with a radio automatically makes you important, especially when you get to talk into it after being called. Very cool.

When in the trailer, most of the time is spent talking amongst ourselves and listening in on conversations on the radios. As the dispatch center, we relay a lot of messages between people on separate channels who can't find one another (such as First Aid looking for Chairmen, or Vendors trying to contact Ecology - a fancy way of saying, "Trash Guys").

I stuck around until 5 p.m. when it started to get dark, and traffic through the volunteer area was rare. Besides, I wanted to get back to my car downtown to ensure the most contact with gridlock traffic possible.

No update tomorrow. It's just a practice round, and I have the day off, choosing to spend it washing my khaki pants (I've only got one pair) five times with my tennis shoes to get somewhat clean. Which will all be for naught on Thursday, I'm sure.

Fore! Mind if I play through to Thursday's action?