Saturday, Nov. 2, 2002

Cop cars were in my neighborhood out the wazoo! To escort me to Turner Field? No, alas, they were there to block traffic for when Pres. Bush visited the Cobb Galleria center a half-mile from my complex to barnstorm for Georgia GOP candidates. Sorry, Dubya, but I've got a golf tournament to get to, so move out of my way!

	Phil Mickelson teeing off 18 during a practice round.

Saturday is called Moving Day (for players jockeying for position heading into Saturday). But among patrons this is a literal statement. This tournament really keeps spectators on the move. Unlike a regular PGA event with 140 players where you can sit in one spot and see them all over seven hours, at the Tour Championship there are only 30 players. This means that after two hours, they've all passed. So spectators usually set up shop on the front nine, wait for the last group, then plant themselves behind a green on the back nine.

If you've been to a sporting event, you know what kind of food to expect. It's not four-star, but you don't mind, even when the hot sandwiches (chicken, hamburgers) cost five bucks. The best, though, are the BBQ pork sandwiches, and a pair of nicely thick hot dogs for six dollars. Thankfully the volunteers get $10 in food vouchers. That pays for at least one meal, then we wrangle the coupons from other sources, such as the chairman just calling the officials and requesting a couple more books. Speaking of the concessions, Dad was kind enough to rub it in my face that I haven't mentioned "Dollface," the cute vendor from earlier this week. Okay, Dad didn't do that, but I haven't even seen her in a few days. I'll just chalk that up on my Missed Opportunities scoreboard, which now stretches over the entire living room wall.

Today's promotional giveaways as patrons step off the bus include seat cushions with pouches from the asthma screening folks, a poncho stuffed in a big golf ball from Allegra, and the Hawaii Tourism board is giving out Nike golf balls with a PGA Tour logo and "Aloha!" in a design, for signing up for a trip (i.e., so they can send you seven-thousand brochures).

Feeling useful today, and mostly for things I'm not on the course for. I helped free a cart stuck in the mud, with my reward being a bee sting in my stomach as I crouched down to push. And during my morning walk around East Lake, surveying the front and back nines on each side, I noticed there were no Pairing sheets in the boxes along the cart paths. So I called in on the radio for someone to fill the boxes, ASAP! That's right, officials, do my bidding! Next up, slashing prices in the merchandise tent. "Come get your sweaters for ten dollars! Logo balls, 50 cents each!"

You never appreciate the size of The Striped One's gallery unless you've been to a tournament. Tiger has people lined up four deep from tee to green looking for him to walk on water. Well, when I saw him on 10, he walked around it. Same when I saw him again on 18. Guess he doesn't want to show off. On the final hole, there's a peninsula between the tee and green connecting the par three. Tiger's fans were packed 50 deep, 25 abreast watching him bogey the hole. Amazing. Though I'm sure someone told playing partner K.J. Choi that everyone was there to see him play. Sucker!

The volunteers have a special area to watch the action on 18, right next to the green on the golfer's right, just 15 yards from the green in front of the bleachers. I stopped by to watch Tiger, and overcame the Self-Righteous Super Friend volunteers in the process. I had one picture left to take on the cheap point-and-shoot camera I brought this week, and decided to take a picture of Tiger's gallery while he teed off. No problem, right? Not according to the Super Volunteer threesome around me, scoffing and saying that cameras aren't allowed in the tournament. No kidding, Sherlock? Gee, I had no idea! There are only so many ways to say "bite me," and I lamely came up with the most diplomatic. Something about a sick great-grandmother whose only wish was a shot of Tiger from 230 yards away. Okay, so it was a little smart-alecky, but sure sounded good coming out.

Much of my anger may be inward, that these guys called me out on a rule I already knew full well. But I also think that there are certain rules to work around, such as the tournament letting pagers on the course as long as on vibrate. When I went to the British Open with Dad and Danielle in 2000 I sure as heck brought my camera to St. Andrews. I'm not traveling across the pond to attend the most prestigious tournament in the world without a record of my being there. And I'm not spending a week of fun as a volunteer at the Tour Championship without a record, either.

Oh, and Vijay Singh leads the tournament at 9-under-par. You know, in case you were wondering if there was actual golf among all this other talk. Tiger made somewhat of a move to third place at 4-under, firing a 67, so he'll be worth watching tomorrow. Charles Howell III is second at 6-under, which is amazing considering he had to grow up knowing his grandparents were stuck on that island with just a captain, first mate, professor and two chicks for so many years.

Tee times began at 9 a.m. Saturday, so that ABC could get the coverage done by 3:30 for football. No problem, we sure don't mind getting out before 5 to see some pigskin playing ourselves. Especially since the talk of the town, and tournament, is the Georgia-Florida game at 7:45 p.m. tonight. Go Dawgs!

Sunday, Nov. 3, 2002

Let's just ignore that whole football thing Saturday night, and go straight to the golf.

"Golf is like faith; it is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." - Arnold Haseltain, Canadian writer.

On the eighth day they finished. One week after my volunteerism stint began, it wrapped with Vijay Singh winning the Tour Championship and me getting ready to go back to a paying gig in the real world. Darn.

The sun was gone this morning, replaced with ominous clouds, but it was still nicely cool. Thankfully the rain waited until a half-hour after the final putt. I believe we can point to Bobby Jones interceding on his home course's behalf for the good Lord to hold off on the needed showers.

You learn something new every day. Super Dana, king of the Communications frontier, used to work in the security detail for Guns 'n Roses in the late 80s, then New Kids on the Block from '90 to '92. Being the same age as the Kids, Dana has some, let's say, interesting stories about their trips (he traveled the world and back, staying at all the best hotels, for starters) and their antics, including their enjoyment of female fans. Let's just say that the Kids won't be joining the priesthood anytime soon. Dana, however, enjoys other music, especially playing Frank Sinatra on his laptop's CD player over and over this week. I must've heard Ol' Blue Eyes sing "Young at Heart" six million times this week, give or take 5,999,980.

Speaking of religion, which I seem to be doing plenty today, I was a little miffed when a volunteer tried to boot a preacher from near the premises this weekend. He was well-dressed and well-mannered, simply reading from a Bible and giving encouragement to patrons walking by. He didn't raise his voice, didn't get in anyone's face, and was on public property, so the volunteer who tried to toss him was politely told to go away. Okay, so I feel bad anyway. I admire the preacher's guts to do something like that, and wanted to know what church he was with, but didn't want to get into a conversation for fear of never getting a word in to slip away back to the trailer. Yeah, I know.

"The most advanced medical brains in the universe have yet to discover a way for a man to relax himself, and looking at a golf ball is not the cure." - Milton Gross, writer.

I was able to get out of the Communications trailer for about an hour today, so I followed Sergio Garcia and Loren Roberts for two holes, the first group to play today. Sure, they were in the back of the pack, but I wanted to see fellow Memphian Roberts play, and their crowd wasn't too large. When you're enjoying a couple of hot dogs and chips, it doesn't really matter anyway.

In the spirit of competition, I was kind of hoping that Vijay would shoot a 75 so that the tournament would be close and exciting at the end. Nope. Vijay played well and no one really challenged him until the very end, with Charles Howell III finishing two strokes back. Tiger double-bogeyed the first hole and was an amusing afterthought most of the day, spraying his drives like an unmanned fire hose.

"If you watch a game, it's fun. If you play at it, it's recreation. If you work at it, it's golf." - Bob Hope

The tournament ran smoothly, so by today even the radio traffic for dispatch was middling. The chief source of humor involved "high maintenance" Claudine in the 17th green dining chalets. She called every half hour with any and every concern, from needing to turn on the heat, turn off the heat, turn on the heat, turn on the TVs, turn the volume down on the TVs, getting more toilet paper in the restrooms, clipping her toenails etc. Ah, I can close my eyes and hear her high-pitched whine now, and smile.

By the way, we figured out why the water in the bathrooms smelled. It turns out that since East Lake has received about 15 inches of rain in the last six weeks, there's been no need to water the course. As the water sat dormant in the pipes, algae built up. So when the same water was used for the tournament in the portable bathrooms on the course, the water had a pleasant algae smell, and the course grounds crew had to constantly unclog pipes. I'm told that we'd have loved the look on an old lady's face when the crew told her she shouldn't have just brushed her teeth with the water in the course bathroom. Priceless, I'm sure.

The week finished up for me at 6 p.m., after busily taking back radios and packing up Dana's equipment from 4:30 on, once Singh putted out on 18 to win. There were about 150 radios and 15 cell phones left on the course, and half of them came at once, so we had an assembly line process with chairman Alex taking them, Dana marking their return on his chart, and I took off the accessories (earpieces, headsets and antennae), then placed them in the case. Efficiency at work! Henry Ford would be proud.

I say goodbye to eight days of work, which came to about 42 � hours of time given freely at the course, not including the 15 minutes it took to get to and from the parking lot at Turner Field. Next year the tournament is in Houston, then it returns to Atlanta for the long haul. Will I take part again? I believe I can volunteer a "yes" to that question.

*golf clap* I sure hope you've got pictures to prove this is all true?