Golf and Other News: Bern Qualifies for the Amateur

July 9, 2003

First, the really important news. Sometimes its nice to see good things happen to good people, and I got to see it Monday when Bernadette qualified for the USGA Women's Amateur Championship at Bear Lakes Country Club in West Palm Beach. There were 814 entrants to the tournament, 156 of whom will be making the trip to Philadelphia.

The course's "Bear" moniker is no accident. Jack Nicklaus designed it, and Jack designs courses for Jack: thin slips of greens angling away from the player, requiring on the approach a high fade that is all carry and no roll, the lack of carry dropping you into a sand or gnarly grass bunker and sometimes good old Florida swamp water. The wind blew at a steady 15-20 knots all day and sometimes more when storms were near. The greens had to be running at least 10 on the stimpmeter (you non-golfniks try to stay with me; it'll be over soon). That means the kind of greens that, when you chip onto them - thinking you've hit a good one, having landed it just where you wanted - the ball rolls 10-20 feet past the hole. She played well, but a few expected bogies crept in, and the birdies wouldn't fall. She was four over after 14, and getting a little down. After 15 and a freakish double bogey, she was six over and figured she was out of it. I told her no. There was no way to know how the field was playing under these conditions. On 16 she pulled her drive into the rough, but somehow smoothed a 6 iron to the middle of the green. 30 feet for birdie. As she sized it up I said, "Kid, it's about time one went in." She sank it.

Unbeknownst to me, her mother, walking the cartpaths while watching the action, was saying rosaries. This could open a new thread about what we ought and ought not to pray for. So...what? God's going to hold it against her? Go ahead, Big Guy, make my day. There's not much you can do about mothers. On 17 she bogied again, a perfect 5 iron from 170 that, the day before under the same conditions, reached its goal. But not this time. Now she's chipping again, another good looking chip that runs 8 feet by, and the putt for par lips out. Back to six over. On 18, her last hole, I said, "There's only one option. In the fairway, on the green, in the hole." She nodded. She slammed the drive a solid 250 yards down the right center. In the short grass. One third of the only option accomplished. On the approach, we badly miscalculated. The wind was right, the yardage was right, but her 9 iron (solidly hit) left her 12 yards short of the green. She had maybe 30 feet of flat green to work with, after which it was all down hill. If her chip went six inches past the flag, she'd be at the bottom of a swale with an impossible uphill, sidehill 30 foot putt for birdie. We made an adjustment. I told her to open the blade and take the swing she was planning. These greens were no longer going to make a mockery of her fine short game. If she was able to execute it, she'd take the run out of the green, and if the ball touched any side of the hole, it would have a chance to fall. (I said this as if it were all in a day's work, and therefore likely as not to happen.) Was she comfortable with the idea? She nodded, and made the swing. The ball landed, skating softly, like an angel getting its footing, then released gently toward the hole, entered the jaws of it, and found the bottom. Click. She leaped into the air. The two girls playing with her yelled their approval, and hugged her. It was genuine. They knew they were out of it and thought she might still have a chance. Plus, most people, after spending some time with her, end up wanting to see her do well. You would too if you knew her. Still in grave doubt, she returned to the clubhouse to find that she had tied with another girl for the sixth and seventh spots out of eight available. In those conditions, even with a fine field of players, the average score was over eighty. Never give up.

Oh yeah, in case you hadn't guessed, I was her caddie. I'll take whatever credit her ego makes room for. I got awfully worn out watching her take all those swings. And no, I don't think the rosary had anything to do with it.

[The results of her adventures at the U.S. Amateur can be found in Together Again.]

And now for the other news, good news too, I hope. I am a test-user of Movable Type's forthcoming weblog service called Typepad. Some of you may be as well. They have asked us testees not to discuss its features, nor to render public judgement in either a positive or negative direction, so as a Catholic Christian more or less bound to keep his word, let me just say generally that I'm having a lot of fun playing with it and learning the layout. I am allowed to link to it, and I will be making all future posts from that site, so either bookmark it or come here to click on the link. This page will stay up until I've managed to migrate its archives to whatever my future blog-home will be. So please drop by (as a favor) to read the one post I've put up, and to try out the comments system. I'd like to hear opinions.

A personal thank you is owed Jeff Miller, the Curt Jester, who has been my patron saint in this effort. Why he is accorded that status I'll make clear once all this has washed out. Yeah, someday I might have my own domain - Me, myself and I.com.

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In Praise of a Great Kid

June 16, 2004

It's official. On Monday, in U.S. Women's Open sectional qualifying at Heathrow Country Club in Lake Mary, Florida, first-born daughter, apple of my eye, and one of three lights of my life (am I overdoing it yet?), Marie Bernadette Luse shot 74-72 and earned one of five available spots, making her an official (did I already say that?) competitor in the 2004 U.S. Women's Open to be held at the Orchards Golf Club in South Hadley, Masschussetts the week of July 1-4. The results can be found here.

On the bag was formerly proficient golfer William Luse, more commonly known as Daddy of Great Kid who now regularly gets his butt kicked by aforementioned firstborn Great Kid and loves every minute of it.

It was 36 holes of golf in one day in the Florida heat. What made the round interesting was that it gradually turned into a mini-spectacle. Before she started traveling with the Futures Tour, she worked at this club, and still does when she's home for a couple of weeks. They love her there and you would too. (Am I overdoing it yet?) If you're a baseball fan, you might be interested to know that one of her regular golfing partners is former MLB star Tim Raines. In fact, the three of us played together last Saturday. She also used to play with a former Magic basketball star, but I can't remember his name. Another club member is Chris DiMarco, who's hardly ever in town, but his father followed Bern almost the entire day. Another guy she's played with, and who made her a gift of a set of Callaway woods, is Senior Tour heavyweight Jim Thorpe. One other who comes to mind is South Africa's Fulton Allem, who has taken an interest in her progress and also made her a gift of a set of men's steel-shafted Callaway irons, one inch over standard length, clubs he had sitting around the house and didn't use anymore. She loves them. One day he happened to be hitting on the range next to us while I was trying to teach her something about working the ball (drawing and fading it). Fulton had to step in and give some advice, concluding with the tip that she must hit it with "affinity." We haven't quite figured out what the word means in the golfing context, but all day yesterday before almost every shot, I advised her to hit it in precisely that way, with affinity. In spite of its elusive meaning, it seemed to have an effect.

On the front 18, a few loyal members followed her around, clapping politely when she did something well. At round's end, she was tied for second with 4 others (their ages ranging from 15 to 40-something. Fiftyish Jan Stephenson was scheduled to play, but she never showed up.) Suddenly, on the first tee of her second 18, the number of carts following have grown from two or three to six or seven. Word was spreading.

She makes the 9 hole turn at one under. On number ten, she hits her second shot out of a fairway bunker to fifteen feet and sinks the birdie. The people in the carts shout and clap. It's not polite anymore, but pure enthusiasm. She pars 11, and at the twelfth tee the number of carts has grown to ten or twelve. I don't know how the word was spreading - by cell phone I guess. It's a par 3 island green, like the 17th at the TPC, only longer, a real cheek-squeezer. She hits a beautiful shot that streaks like a laser for the pin, but it's too long. The adrenaline's pumping. The chip back leaves her no green to work with, and she bogies. She pars 13. At 14 she drops a seven iron to within 25 feet. Sinks it. The crowd goes nuts and now I see the carts number at least 15, with a fair number of others walking it. She smiles and waves and I can see she loves a gallery. We find out later the noise can be heard all the way back at the clubhouse. She pars 15, but now everything gets the same wild response, and she has to do the smile and wave thing everytime she hits a shot. Par on the par 5 16th. More yelling. One of Bern's playing partners makes birdie and garners decent applause. On 17, a long par 4 dogleg left with water on both sides, I try to get her to hit a 3 wood. She hits it so long these days, that her avenue of safety is quite narrow. Nope, she insists on the driver and hooks it into the water. She gets the next shot on the green, but it's a long downhill, sidehill, uphill putt that comes up six feet short. Double-bogey. The crowd claps anyway. On the next tee, another long par 4 with water on the left, I take her aside. "You're going to put this in the fairway, right? You're going to finish like a pro. Now smooth out that tempo."

"Right," she says. She gets up and smashes it because all kinds of hyper-hormones are racing through her. The ball starts hooking. Oh God, no, I think, go, go, and she's hit it so hard it makes the fairway and rolls with the dogleg and my heart drops out of my throat. Nine iron to the green on a 400 yard hole. How can you hook a nine iron? I wonder, but she did. It's just off the green pin high. She strokes it to within a few inches, and when the par putt falls the crowd undergoes its final paroxysm and the day is done. Even par 72 in a round with five birdies. I don't dwell on it. She's too happy. She'd spent the night before having nightmares about 4-putts. She accomplished this feat on maybe 3 or 4 hours of sleep.

I told her later those people were following her for only one reason. "If you were a good golfer who also happened to be a s***head, no one would follow you."

"I know," she says, and gives Daddy a hug, and Daddy's day is made.

She's worked hard for it, and I'll be praying for her to make the cut at the Open. God probably doesn't listen to such prayers, but they're coming at Him anyway.



Here's the official site.

Here's the course layout.

The club's homepage.

Posted by William Luse at June 16, 2004 02:20 AM

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Comments:

Hey, wow, that is something to crow about. It's fun to read good news on a blog these days. Congratulations to you and your very talented daughter. Keep us posted.
Posted by TSO email at June 16, 2004 08:38 AM

I'll tell you what, TS, it's nice to have some to share.
Posted by William Luse email at June 16, 2004 12:25 PM

Awesome, Bill (and Bernadette!). Simply awesome. I'm sorry I missed her when she was in Georgia.
Hook a nine iron? Sounds like magic.
Posted by Paul Cella email at June 16, 2004 03:25 PM

Good on Marie Bernadette. Women's sports are woefully under-represented by such beautiful, heads-up, daddy-loving girls. It does my heart good to see her.
Posted by Julie email at June 16, 2004 05:32 PM

I wonder how far South Hadley Mass is from Concord NH? I am not a golf afficianado, but who knows, I might try to make it down there anyhow.The shrine of the Divine Mercy is in Stockbridge MA btw - worth visiting.
Posted by alicia email at June 16, 2004 06:23 PM

cool! all that talent and beauty rolled into one? too cool!
Posted by smockmomma email at June 16, 2004 08:24 PM

She thanks you all.
Posted by William Luse email at June 16, 2004 10:34 PM

Wow, that's awesome! Congratulations to her!
Posted by Nathan email at June 16, 2004 10:50 PM

Nice work Bernadette (I love your name too!)
Congrats Dad -- you've got lots to be proud of I see!
Posted by John email at June 17, 2004 10:21 AM

Congrats!!!
Posted by Ellyn email at June 18, 2004 07:01 AM

Uh--Jan WHO? >:-)
Congratulations to both of you! I can't wait for the Open!
Posted by KTC email at June 19, 2004 09:27 AM

Congratulations!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Posted by Peony Moss email at June 19, 2004 10:02 AM

Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!!!!!
Posted by Terry email at June 20, 2004 08:34 AM

Dear Mr.Luse,I am a new reader to your site, having stumbled upon it as I "googled" your daughter Bernadette.Her boyfriend happens to be my much-loved nephew here in Atlanta and I was trying to find out when and where the US Womens Open was playing. Tony has proudly passed along the wonderful news of Bernie's qualifying. Congrats to All !!!Now I have added your site to my "favorites" and will enjoy checking in every so often to read your very interesting and though-provoking commentaries.
Posted by Maggie Burns email at June 21, 2004 02:02 PM

Dear Mr.Luse,I am a new reader to your site, having stumbled upon it as I "googled" your daughter Bernadette.Her boyfriend happens to be my much-loved nephew here in Atlanta and I was trying to find out when and where the US Womens Open was playing. Tony has proudly passed along the wonderful news of Bernie's qualifying. Congrats to All !!!Now I have added your site to my "favorites" and will enjoy checking in every so often to read your very interesting and though-provoking commentaries.
Posted by Maggie Burns email at June 21, 2004 02:02 PM

OOPS, looks like I clicked twice !
Posted by maggie email at June 21, 2004 02:10 PM

Welcome, Maggie. Yes, one click will do.
Posted by William Luse email at June 21, 2004 08:50 PM

Reading your play-by-play made me feel like I was there watching. My prayers will be with Bern as she goes big-league. She has daddy as her caddy, the talent, the heart, and the game. God gives us the desires of our heart. Go Bern.
Posted by Karen email at June 26, 2004 05:34 PM

 ______________________________

My Pride…

Jume 25,2004

runneth over. For the past week, all my shirts have felt too tight in the chest. The buttons keep popping. This annoys the wife, who has to sew them back on.

And now I find out Bern's alma mater hasn't forgotten her. Those of you willing to indulge me further might like to have a look at this.

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Comments:

are you coming to massachussets to see her?
Posted by alicia email at June 25, 2004 09:52 PM

To caddy for her.
Posted by William Luse email at June 26, 2004 01:22 AM

Wonderful! I'll be watching on TV--I hope I get to see BOTH of you! :-)
Posted by KTC email at June 26, 2004 08:11 AM

I hope so too. Or you could just drive on up and say hi.
Posted by William Luse email at June 26, 2004 01:08 PM

i pray she makes it to NBC and beyone. go, go, go!
Posted by smockmomma email at June 26, 2004 09:51 PM

uh...beyond.
boy, she's a QT!
Posted by smockmomma email at June 26, 2004 09:52 PM

You ain't the only one who'll be prayin' Micki. Don't expect too much. She's a nervous wreck. But hope for the best.
Posted by William Luse email at June 26, 2004 10:01 PM

I'm tuning in to ESPN in hopes of seeing her! Go, Bern, go!!!!!
Posted by MamaT email at June 26, 2004 11:02 PM

 ________________________

Missing...

Sept. 15, 2004

the elder of the two daughters, who had been home a while. She's out in California to compete in the first stage of LPGA qualifying school. I had thought of sending Jeff Culbreath down to watch over her, but he's too far away. She's in Palm Springs where the rich and famous hang out, while he's in Sacramento where people work for a living. Guardian angels are a great invention, but the idea of human reinforcements has its appeal.

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Comment:

Palm Springs, no kidding? I have some connections in the area -- I once lived in Desert Hot Springs -- but, trust me, they would not be suitable guardians. As in the fox watching the henhouse unsuitable. Better stay on good terms with her guardian angel.
Posted by Jeff Culbreath

 __________________

Proud of Her

Sept. 25, 2004

Some good news for a change. Bernadette's been out West competing in the LPGA Qualifying School. She made the two day cut with a 74-74. Right on the cut line. One more stroke and it was no-go. She was tied for 64th at that point, and needed to move up to 30th to have an automatic "in" to final qualifying at LPGA International in Daytona. So the next day she shot a 70 (2 under) and moved into a tie for 32nd. Today she shot a 71 and climbed those last two rungs. She finished in 30th place. She is saddened that some of her friends didn't, who will now have to try again in Venice, Fla. in early October.

But for Bern it's on to Daytona in early December and a shot at acquiring her LPGA tour card. If she doesn't, it's back to the Futures Tour. But, whether she does or not, she's my kid. Ain't no card can change that.

 ____________________

Comments:

that's if daytona is still there, no?good for her.I hope that Jeanne doesn't take too much more out of you all.
Posted by alicia email at September 26, 2004 02:51 PM

Good for her.
PS stay dry!
Posted by :~)Julie email at September 26, 2004 03:04 PM

Thanks, ladies.
Posted by William Luse email at September 26, 2004 08:42 PM

Woo hoo!
Go Bern, go Bern, go Bern, go Bern.......
Posted by MamaT email at September 26, 2004 11:38 PM

mega-congrats to the beautiful bern!
Posted by smockmomma email at September 27, 2004 12:33 AM

Conratulations to your daughter. I can't imagine the amount of time and dedication she puts into her sport. Good for her.
PS stay dry!
Posted by :~)Julie email at September 26, 2004 03:04 PM

Thanks, ladies.
Posted by William Luse email at September 26, 2004 08:42 PM

Woo hoo!
Go Bern, go Bern, go Bern, go Bern.......
Posted by MamaT email at September 26, 2004 11:38 PM

mega-congrats to the beautiful bern!
Posted by smockmomma email at September 27, 2004 12:33 AM

Conratulations to your daughter. I can't imagine the amount of time and dedication she puts into her sport. Good for her.
PS stay dry!
Posted by :~)Julie email at September 26, 2004 03:04 PM

Thanks, ladies.
Posted by William Luse email at September 26, 2004 08:42 PM

Woo hoo!
Go Bern, go Bern, go Bern, go Bern.......
Posted by MamaT email at September 26, 2004 11:38 PM

mega-congrats to the beautiful bern!
Posted by smockmomma email at September 27, 2004 12:33 AM

 _______________________

Congratulations to Bernadette

Dec 6, 2004

my child and a great kid. Sorry, young woman. After seven grueling days at LPGA International in Daytona Beach, five of which were competitive rounds, she finished tied for 10th at 2 under for the tournament and won herself 2700 dollars. She is now a fully exempt, card-carrying member of the LPGA Tour for 2005. 30 women gained this status. The field of 140 was cut in half after Saturday's round, and the final 70 played for those 30 places.

Wish I had time to tell the whole story, but after a week's absence my workload is now crushing. A lot of girls went there with the same dream, but most of them didn't see it come true, at least not this year, and some are Bernadette's buddies. It tempers one's rejoicing, somewhat. But for now she has a rightful claim to be proud of this accomplishment, consequent only upon years of hard work, and to be thankful to God for the gifts he has given her. The greatest of those gifts is not to be found in the fact that she can swing a golf club.

An article.

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Comments:

CONGRATULATIONS!
Posted by Peony Moss email at December 6, 2004 07:35 AM

Mr. Luse:
I had been checking on the Futures Tour website, and imagine how happy I was to read yesterday's update! Woo hoo!!!!!!!
Smooch her for the Mamas. What a GREAT Christmas present!!!
Posted by MamaT email at December 6, 2004 08:08 AM

How cool! Congratulations!
Posted by Elena email at December 6, 2004 08:32 AM

Bernadette has been blessed with a number of gifts greater than her considerable talent on the links. One of them, Deo gratias, is her father.
Posted by Earl E. Appleby, Jr. email at December 6, 2004 09:31 AM

Wooohooo! Way to go Bernadette. Her heavenly patron is smiling.
Posted by TSO email at December 6, 2004 10:42 AM

Congratulations! :-D
Posted by susan b. email at December 6, 2004 10:44 AM

Very cool! Congratulations!
Posted by Pansy Moss email at December 6, 2004 04:30 PM

Congratulations! (This from a golfer who hit two greens yesterday and thought it a very good round.)
Posted by Paul Cella email at December 6, 2004 04:50 PM

Congratulations! =)
Posted by Christopher Blosser email at December 6, 2004 10:31 PM

Wow! Congratulations!!!
Posted by Ellyn email at December 7, 2004 09:05 AM

fantastically wonderful!!!!!!!
Posted by alicia the midwife email at December 7, 2004 01:13 PM

Thanks, folks. I'll try to get the young lady's head out of the clouds long enough to thank you herself, but at the least be assured she will know of your support.
Posted by William Luse email at December 7, 2004 01:33 PM

yeehaw, lil' doegey.
Posted by smockmomma email at December 8, 2004 08:32 AM

 ___________________________

More Congrats

Dec 15, 2004

Going back over the scores from Q-school, I found an interesting trend. Bernadette shot 75 the first day, and it was in fact a really fine round of golf. She gagged two of the closing three holes. This left her at plus 3 and in 80th place. The object of the first four days was to place oneself in the top 70 so that you would be eligible to play on the fifth for the opportunity of a lifetime. And of that top 70, only 30 would advance to fully exempt status. After that first day, the cut line for that top 70 was at plus 2. So she was behind the game, but not out of it.
The second day she shoots 72, even par, and remains at plus 3. But she is now in 61st place, and the cut line for the top seventy has moved to...+3. She's in the game.

The third day she shoots 68, four under, and is now at minus 1. And tied for 17th. The cut line for the top 70 has moved to plus 4.

Day four, crunch day. She shoots 71, one under, moves to minus 2, and is now in 10th place. The cut line for the top 70 has moved to +6. Half the field is lopped off, and the top 70 and ties move on to the last day.

On the fifth day she shoots 72, even, and the cut line for the top 30 comes in at +2, back where it was on the first day for the top 70. Bern remains in 10th, and gains her status with a comfortable 4 stroke margin. Even if she'd stayed at +3 throughout, she'd still have been at the top of the partially exempt list (a result with which she'd have been happy) and gotten into a fair number of LPGA events. But it's tough playing two tours, the Futures and the LPGA, and so in the words of one of her friends who also made it: Thank you Jesus.

The field's drift upward from +2 while she went down and then held steady gives credence to the adage that consistency is a virtue. That last day, "gut-check" day, she told me on hole 15, that she felt like throwing up. She was two under going into 16, bogeyed that one and 17, then finished like a champ. The more I look back on it all, I just can't say enough about this girl...but I'll shut up now because she gets uncomfortable when people talk about her too much, even if it's all in praise.

 _________________

Comments:

I often hear parents brag on their kids but it's more rare to find kids that so completely back up what their 'rents say as Bernadette did. Sports are a real meritocracy; you don't get something based on looks or sex appeal.
Posted by TSO email at December 17, 2004 02:36 PM

Most of the time it is (a meritocracy), but don't forget this article.
And Bern has the looks, and, thankfully, a modest demeanor that hides a determined, competitive spirit that kind of spooks me out at times. Out on the Futures Tour, after the round was over, some of her acquaintances went off to eat, drink, and be merry while Bern headed for the driving range. It was her work ethic that done it. Driving back to the hotel after her first round at Q-school, she was explaining to someone over the cellphone that she wasn't out of it, had 4 more days to...and I held up 3 fingers indicating she had only 3 to make the top 70 and she snapped, "Dad, I'm going to make the cut!" Okay, excuse me. She was thinking further down the road, and by God she did it.
But, no matter their longing to excel, women have this other ambition which I'll post about soon.
Posted by William Luse email at December 18, 2004 12:00 PM

hey dad, isn't the adage patients is a virtue not consistancy?
Posted by Bernadette email at December 28, 2004 05:13 PM

This is embarrassing. If you're going to comment, spell correctly.
Posted by William Luse email at December 29, 2004 02:37 AM

 ____________________

The LPGA

Jan 23, 2005

has updated its website, and the rookies are now online.




The website of the Hawaiian resort that will host the first full-field event of the year in February.

___________________

Comments:

she's gorgeous!
Posted by alicia email at January 23, 2005 04:47 PM

Thanks, Alicia. I like her a lot.
Posted by William Luse email at January 23, 2005 09:09 PM


Yowza! Please tell me she isn't available.
Traditional Catholic, Writer, Dark humor, dark features- applying to law school for the fall. Has upwards of 8 years experience with ex-dancer girlfriends. (2 unsimultaneous girlfriends- both ex-dancers- both long term relationships). Currently still dating one- but not betrothed!
Must I take up golf?
Posted by Michael Brendan Doughety email at January 24, 2005 02:57 AM


Let's see, you have a girlfriend, but one look at this one and you're ready to be led away. Hmmm...
Oh. She's not available. But you ought to take up golf anyway.
Posted by William Luse email at January 24, 2005 03:51 AM


Awwwwww!
How can you not love a girl who puts this in her bio:
"Credits her father, who taught her the game and is still her coach, as the individual most influencing her career...Hobbies include ballet, especially watching her sister dance..."
Now THAT'S a good girl.
(And she has about the best eyebrows on the planet! Part of her gorgeousness!)
Posted by MamaT email at January 24, 2005 08:35 AM


que buena!
Posted by smockmomma email at January 24, 2005 01:41 PM


Figured as much.

Hmm. That's the thing- I'm interested in golf but my girlfriend (of 5 years) thinks its too snobbish to play. We live on the border of CT- so when she drives down to work she sees the corporate guys in their little look at me roadsters with the golf clubs in the back. Its also really expensive in the area. Ah well.
Posted by Michael Brendan Doughety email at January 24, 2005 02:17 PM


Man, do you have a lot of living up to do. :-)
Posted by Jeff Culbreath email at January 24, 2005 03:45 PM


You noticed that, did you?
Posted by William Luse email at January 24, 2005 04:24 PM


Michael:
I think you're going to have to move south. One look at a bunch of Georgia boys playing golf in blue jeans and drinking Pabst will disabuse your girlfriend of the snobbery concerns.
Posted by Paul Cella email at January 25, 2005 01:33 PM


I certainly do hope Bernadette does well going up against the big girls. You know that Paula Creamer is going to get all the ink that the overhyped Michelle Wie (who's a 15-year-old amateur, for crying out loud, and one who will probably burn out by age 18) doesn't get first!
Posted by Charles M. de Nunzio email at February 3, 2005 09:19 AM


Thanks, Charles, and you're probably right. Wie has already been given exemptions into all four of the women's majors. The Open is ok, because her performance from last year gets her in, but the other three are gimmes. Even the guys on the Golf Channel last night were upset about it.
Posted by William Luse email at February 3, 2005 01:41 PM

_____________________

Good Luck to my girl

Feb 19, 2004

Bernadette left yesterday for Hawaii and her first tournament. She was very sick and had to be taken to the doctor the night before. Seemed somewhat better when we put her on the plane, but I still pray she recovers in time.
The tournament will be covered by the Golf Channel Thurs., Fri. and Sat. from 6:30 to 9:30 P.M. (Eastern Time) and maybe a replay at 12:30 or thereabouts. Don't know that I'll get to see her, but I'll be watching anyway. One shot at a time, kid.

A photo gallery of the resort where she'll be staying.

The green at the 17th hole:

 __________________

Comments:

Good luck to your daughter! What a beautiful picture.
Posted by TSO email at February 20, 2005 06:29 PM

Thanks so much, TS.
Posted by William Luse email at February 20, 2005 09:01 PM

Way cool!
I think we get the golf channel (though it's never turned on around here). Maybe I'll check in and see if I can see the lovely Bernadette!
Tell her good luck from the Summas!
Posted by MamaT email at February 21, 2005 09:54 PM

Will do.
Posted by William Luse email at February 22, 2005 01:11 AM

Will be praying for her health and success. (From the looks of the picture, the climate should have a most salutary effect!)
Posted by Ellyn email at February 22, 2005 12:10 PM

Good luck to Bernadette. I've been under the weather with a nasty bug lately -- so I know how it feels. May her health improve and her swing remain smooth (good grief: maybe the fever hasn't yet left me).
I'll look for her on the Golf Channel (which I do watch regularly: their "Lessons from the Pros" show is great.)
Posted by Paul Cella email at February 22, 2005 02:22 PM

How cool is that! Amazing. What a blessing to have talent and ability. Good luck.
Posted by mark butterworth email at February 23, 2005 01:23 AM

Thank you, Mark, and yes it is. She got it all from her father.
Paul, I like that show too. Did you see the one with her buddy Jim Thorpe? That was shot at Heathrow Country Club where she plays. I also forgot to mention that the last issue of Golfweek, the one with Golf marriages on the cover, has an article about her. It takes up the whole back page. See if you can find it.
Posted by William Luse email at February 23, 2005 04:37 AM

I'll look for it.
No, I missed the Jim Thorpe one, but I was fascinated by John Daly's left-arm-only practice routine. And Nick Faldo gave me a good idea about how to slow down my backswing.
Posted by Paul Cella email at February 23, 2005 02:30 PM

I happened to catch Bernadette's name on the LPGA tour and was shocked. A blast from the past. I haven't seen or talked to her in a couple years and I felt so excited for her. What an achievement! I found this site after doing a search and I just wanted to wish her the best of luck. Keep up the good work!
-an old friend from the Golf Range at Maitland Center
Posted by an old friend email at March 11, 2005 11:58 AM

 __________________

Update on the Rookie

Apr 22, 2005

I haven't been doing a very good job of keeping those interested posted on the daughter's adventures on the LPGA tour. She's missed the last 3 cuts - the one in Arizona by a mere shot. Yesterday she was in Mexico again, in a place called Michoacan, near Guadalajara, I think, and got off to rough start. She went quickly to 3 over, but then started playing well, knocking down flagsticks, and felt like the birdies were on the way. (If she had finished at 3 over, she'd have been all right - a little above the middle of the pack.) But on hole number six she told her caddie she felt funny. On hole seven she hit the green, then when she got there went off to the side and threw up. She came back and putted out. She did this for the next approximately 5 holes, throwing up and putting out. Her caddie couldn't believe she was staying out there. But on hole 13 or 14, she collapsed. She was taken to the medical tent and put on an IV and later given some pills to take with her. The diagnosis is food poisoning. She continued throwing up the rest of the day. So now my kid's lying in her hotel room in a foreign land, drained of strength and trying to keep down sips of Gatorade and I can't get to her. Her cell phone gets no reception. We talked to her on her room phone and I'm not even going to tell you what it costs. This is her second time down there, and I'm also not going to tell you what I think of Mexico. It'll be fine with me if she never goes back.

 ___________________

Comments:

Poor baby. Poor daddy and mommy.
I'll be praying for her to get better, food poisoning is no fun at all, especially when you're far from home.
Posted by MamaT email at April 22, 2005 08:54 AM

que horrible! will be praying.
Posted by smockmomma email at April 22, 2005 01:05 PM

I'm so sorry; will pray that she recovers quickly.
Posted by Lynn email at April 22, 2005 01:05 PM

Playing till she collapsed. Man they don't make 'em like that anymore. Kudos to the lucky husband-to-be.
Posted by TSO email at April 22, 2005 06:30 PM

Oh how dreadful.She'll be in my prayers.(What a trooper!)
Posted by Ellyn email at April 22, 2005 07:03 PM

That's so dismal. I hope she'll get a good rest.
Posted by Jane Wangersky email at April 22, 2005 08:21 PM

She's doing better now. Still weak and her ribs ache from throwing up. And depressed because she wants to be on the golf course.
Posted by William Luse email at April 22, 2005 11:56 PM

So sorry this happened.... I was looking forward to meeting her in a couple of weeks in Williamsburg. Will she still be able to make it there?
Posted by Charles M. de Nunzio email at April 23, 2005 09:38 AM

Yes, Charles, it's on her schedule. Don't know if I'll be able to make it, but I want to because Virginia is so gorgeous. If I'm there, make sure you introduce yourself. If I'm not, I'll tell her to expect some stranger named Charles to come asking for an autograph. :~)
Posted by William Luse email at April 23, 2005 04:49 PM

I'm sorry to hear about that. Good to know that she's feeling better.
Posted by Paul Cella email at April 24, 2005 12:46 PM

We're coming to Atlanta, too, Paul.
Posted by William Luse email at April 24, 2005 02:54 PM

I'm glad she's feeling better too.
Posted by Lynn email at April 25, 2005 02:48 AM

When?
Posted by Paul Cella email at April 25, 2005 07:29 AM

Go to LPGA.com, click on tournaments, and look for the one in May in Stockbridge, Ga. Second week of May, I think.
Posted by William Luse email at April 25, 2005 02:13 PM

I will say a prayer to St. Raphael for her since she's sick, but I don't know who the patron saint of golfers is? Maybe St. Paul for athletes?
Posted by Amy email at April 26, 2005 09:53 AM

I don't know either, Amy. Just pick one.
Posted by William Luse email at April 26, 2005 01:50 PM

Hey, any North Texas stops on her tour????
Posted by MamaT email at April 27, 2005 07:32 AM

She shot 69 today in the first round of the Kingsmill (Williamsburg, VA) tournament, and I was there to witness all 18 holes of it. Her first time under par in LPGA competition, she tells me. More details in a forthcoming e-mail.
Posted by email at May 5, 2005 10:13 PM

Okay....CHARLES
Posted by William Luse email at May 6, 2005 02:30 AM

_____________________________________________

Good News, bad news (but mostly good)

Thursday, June 16, 2005

I was in Havre de Grace, Maryland at the Bulle Rock Golf Club last week watching Bernadette at the LPGA championship. The good news is she made her first cut in a major; the bad news is she got worse every day: tied for 10th after day one at minus 2, for 28th after day two at even par, for 48th after day 3 at +4, and way down on the list after day 4 at +9. Still, this was an improvement. She knows now that she can put herself in contention.

I walked the course with her, inside the ropes on Wednesday, outside Thursday through Sunday. By the end I was exhausted. A lot of the Force gets sucked out of you watching your kid trying to succeed. In addition, Maryland's heat and humidity was as bad as Florida's.

The course, a Pete Dye design, was gorgeous, every hole a pleasure to behold. The rough was thick. Go into it and your chance of making bogey was about 90%.

Bern played a practice round with Michelle Wie, who came in second. In spite of the prodigious distances the TV folks attribute to Wie off the tee (sounds funny, doesn't it?), Bern found herself no more than 10 to 15 yards behind this very tall girl (around 6 feet). It didn't seem that many other girls were talking to her (Wie) so Bern was careful to say hi and compliment her on her play each time she saw her. There's a lot of resentment over the fact (most of it justified) that this 15 year old is being invited to major tournaments without having to qualify, but they need to keep in mind it's not Wie's fault. It's the LPGA's decision, and I figure what they're doing is simply a marketing strategy, for the present and the future. Physically and mentally precocious, she generates media interest, which in turn generates viewer interest. Follow the money.

Saturday night we went to Price's restaurant and cracked Chesapeake Bay blue crabs with a wooden hammer. I thought Bern might be put off by the labor involved, but she got into it and now has a new favorite seafood. There really is nothing like it. Crabs go extremely well with lots of beer. We also became addicted to cream of crab soup.

After her round Sunday, we needed to get to the Baltimore airport to try to catch an earlier flight than the one originally scheduled for 8:15, getting into Orlando at 10:15. She had to get up the next day at the crack of dawn to do sectional qualifying for the U.S. Open. An earlier flight would give her an extra hour or so of sleep. She could have tried to qualify in Baltimore, but that meant a practice round she didn't have time for during tournament week. She wanted to play on her home course. We stopped at a MacDonald's on the way out of town, but I couldn't find my wallet. Panic sets in. We go back to the golf course, where I figured I'd lost it in the parking lot, but nothing. Back to the restaurant where we ate breakfast, nothing. The motel. Nothing. Back to the golf course and, of course, nothing. Now I have no picture ID except the badge issued by the LPGA. Would they let me on a plane? The airline said yes, but that I would probably be subjected to intense security. So we got our MacDonald's and streaked to Baltimore, paid the fee to change flights, and after passing through the metal detector I was pulled aside for that special security attention they had promised, a protocol invented by some moron somewhere, absolutely guaranteed not to catch terrorists. One ought to at least look like a terrorist, or be related to a terrorist, or have helped a terrorist cross the street, or attended a madrassas, or have exchanged emails with Timothy McVeigh or some such, but no, our government in its concern for our safety now has in its possession more sets of deadly fingernail clippers liberated from law-abiding citizens than there are Howard Hugheses to dispense them to.

The fellow administering the wanding and the pat-down was very polite, but when he got to the part where had to, absolutely according to the rules had to, run the back of his hand across my privates, I asked him if he enjoyed his work. He didn't answer.

The newer, earlier flight was, of course, late getting in, so for our trouble we ended up saving maybe 30 minutes. Still, she got up the next day on too little sleep and, with Dad on the bag, played her 36 holes, shot 74-69 (the latter round a nearly flawless performance, the pro in her taking command), one under par for the two rounds, and tied for the second of only four spots available. She will be going to the U.S. Women's Open for the second year in a row. It will be played next week in Denver, Colorado at the legendary Cherry Hills Golf Club.

The next morning after qualifying she hopped on another plane and headed for Rochester, New York (Pittsford, actually) to play in this week's tournament. I don't know how she does it. I'm tired.

---------------------------

Colorado Bound

June 20, 2005

I'm heading out West for a week to watch Bernadette play in the U.S. Women's Open at Cherry Hills Golf Club in Denver. Wish her luck. Perhaps I'll put up a little diary of the trip when I get back. Time permitting, as always.

_____________________________

Open Moments

July 20, 2005



A picture of Bernadette chipping at the ninth green during the U.S. Women's Open at Cherry Hills, in Denver. This was taken on the first day of the tournament. The rough was awful, and I think this chip left her with a 20 footer for par, which she sunk and sent the crowd into a frenzy. At this point she was either at even or one under and, red numbers being hard to come by, that kept her on the leaderboard most of the day. She had some trouble toward the end and finished at plus three. Morgan Pressel had been at -5, an incredible number for this golf course, but by the end of the day had lost it all. Bern's second day didn't go so well, and she missed the cut. Heartbroken as you might imagine. We went back to the hotel and had to leave her alone in her room awhile. But for a time there, she had given us quite a thrill.

A reporter for the Denver Post took a shine to her and there was a big spread in the paper and a couple of pictures, but those are no longer available online. We kept copies, however, for our scrapbook. You can find the picture above and more from the Open at this link. More memories upcoming as time permits, especially about an interesting Mass I attended.

--------------------------

Comments:

Paul Cella said...
A reporter for the Denver Post took a shine to her and there was a big spread in the paper and a couple of pictures, but those are no longer available online.
How did I miss it?!!! Wait, now that I think about, my dad subscribes to right-leaning Rocky Mountain News not the left-leaning Denver Post.
4:10 PM, July 22, 2005
------------------------
William Luse said...
She was interviewed by that paper too, but I can't remember if they did anything about it. I'll ask Mary Helyn.
7:26 PM, July 22, 2005

____________________________________

Priceless (to me anyway)

July 28, 2005

I was playing a round of golf with the kid the other day, and before we even started I already owed her six bucks from a previous round. At a dollar a hole, that meant that, in match play, the contest would have been over after hole 13. But this second round didn’t go quite according to plan – for her anyway.

After a few holes she was up by 2, and it pretty much stayed that way till late in the round. She had been coasting on her lead. It was easy to beat Dad these days. He’ll screw up eventually; he always does. And in the Florida heat it’s easy to get lazy, and a couple of bogeys finally crept onto her scorecard. Suddenly we were even and she was forced to realize that Dad had never really gone away. Somehow he kept making pars. After 16 I was one up. At 17 she was pin high but with a tough chip out of thick rough and not much green to work with. I was much further from the hole with an awkward, side-slope stance in the front bunker. I swung and put the ball a foot from the hole.

Miss Cool’s exasperation finally erupted: "What the hell are you doing?!" she barked.

I nearly fell down laughing. She hit a mediocre chip and bogeyed. 2 up.

"Don’t ever, ever count the old man out," I’d reminded her several times during the round, to which she responded, "Yeah, yeah."

On 18 my lack of practice finally produced the inevitable double-bogey to her par, so she lost by only one, and now I owe her a mere five bucks.

Update: The foregoing was written before today’s round. I now owe her 7 bucks.

Update: Now I owe her 12 bucks.
---------------------------------------
Comments:

Jeff Culbreath said...
Nice work, Dad. No doubt she still knows from whence came her talent. My kids already outperform me at too many things ...
2:48 AM, July 28, 2005
-------------------------

William Luse said...
I think she knows. I have, over the years, reminded her that everything she has is a gift that really comes from a higher source. Maybe in her prayers she remembers that now and then.
2:58 AM, July 28, 2005
-----------------------------

MamaT said...
Hmmmmm. I think I'd stop the bet before you owe her a wedding or something! :-)

Blessings!
9:42 PM, July 31, 2005
-----------------------------

William Luse said...
I'm going to practice!

Wedding's off, btw.
10:03 PM, July 31, 2005

______________________________________________________

OPEN MOMENTS

Aug. 3, 2005

A few more from the Women's Open at Cherry Hills, as they occur to me. Soon to be moved to Bernadette's Golf Page.

On the driving range the second day, Bernadette introduced me, at my request, to Natalie Gulbis. Remember that tournament in Mexico when she (Bern) got sick, throwing up every hole starting at number 7 through 14 until she collapsed and had to be carted off the course, put on an IV, and forced to take a cab instead of a courtesy car? (The cab ride was so rough that when it dropped her at the hotel, she threw up again. And, I found out later, the Mexican lady who inserted the IV and spoke little English might have been a doctor and might not have been, but whatever she was she wasn't any good at IV's and Bern freaked out as she found herself lying in a pool of her own blood.) Well, Natalie and her father were the only ones to look in on her. They came up to her room, then went out to get her a few things like gatorade, aspirin, bottled water, etc. Bern's caddy, Patrick, stayed by her side, but after a day of tending to her he got sick too and the two of them took turns vomiting.

I ran into Mr. Gulbis later by the scoring trailer. With the beard and long hair he looks rather eccentric, like someone who can't let the 60's go, but he was personable and told me "it's a parent thing." So I guess he'd been thinking what he'd like someone to do if his daughter had been stricken and he couldn't come to her aid, an eccentricity of which the angels approve.

Natalie seems a fine young woman. she's got a bit of a strut to her style, a hitch in her git-along, but she's never arrogant to her fans, always ready with a smile and a wave even for the boys who call out for reasons other than her golfing ability. She can't help it if she's cute.
-------------

We had some family there: Bern's sister Elizabeth (my dancing queen); my mother-in-law; her son and uncle to my kids, Patrick (yes, two Pats - Pat and Caddy Pat); and Mary Helyn, of course (no adjectives - she's just the queen period). Also along was Mrs. O, a member of the club of which Bernadette is an honorary facsimile thereof. She's a former flight attendant who married a pilot, a totally delightful person, and a big fan of Bern's. This is the second time she's flown across country to watch her play. At the U.S. Open qualifier I mentioned her delightfulness (in her presence) to her husband, who responded jovially, beer in hand, "Yes, she's well-trained." But you could hear the pride in his voice so you know how that works: it's the other way around. One night during dinner at Landry's, she told a story from her flight attendant days of a co-worker intent on being noticed by a handsome gentleman passenger, but when she leaned over to serve him his drink, she sneezed and farted at the same time. The relationship never took off.

Elizabeth had to leave Friday afternoon to fly back to Bloomington for work on Saturday (she's got a $6.50 an hour summer job working banquets for the IU Union - I told her she could have gotten someone to work for her but she's too conscientious in her duties, afraid of displeasing or seeming not to care), a sad day, for I love having that kid around (she likes to talk about books and writing and current affairs and IDEAS and so forth), and Bern loved having her as a roommate, and it became sadder still when Bern missed the cut.

But we recovered and had a good time. We ate a lot of good food and drank a lot of beer (me, Elizabeth, Uncle Pat, Caddy Pat, and Uncle Pat's friend Kevin, who flew up from Phoenix, but not Bern till after the cut - very disciplined during tournament week). Joan, my wife's Mom, usually sipped at a glass of wine because her face tended to go numb after one drink. Me, my face never goes numb until I pass out. Mrs. O was not as profligate as the rest of us, but she held her own and told some other stories from flight attendant days that I wish I could remember. I think it was Friday night that we ate at Landry's and Mrs. O, Uncle Pat and Ebe had a thing called a Blue Moon, which involved a local brew with a slice of orange in it. Fruit in your beer. An abomination.

Sunday evening after church we met at the Denver-Tech Hotel where the in-laws were staying. We found them in the atrium cum pool hall cum bar and lounge. It's an open area with rooms looking down into it and a glass ceiling above it all. We played pool - me and Bern against the two Pats, and every time Caddy Pat sunk the winning shot he'd prance around the table jabbing a victory finger skyward, and Bern said, "What is it with guys?"

"Male ego," I said, remembering a line once uttered by a friend with a big ego. "Most destructive force in the universe." She nodded, recognizing truth.

And, oh yes, we ordered a lot of beer from the bar. The barkeep was a slim, white-haired fellow in a white shirt, a vest, and a bowtie. We drank bass ale, and some of the local brews (Denver has a lot of microbreweries and some of the restaurants brew their own - pretty good stuff, but not Bass or Becks) and even Bern joined in but had only two the whole night. Uncle Pat liked Black and Tans, a mixture of Bass and Guiness, or sometimes Sam Adams and Guiness, but I wouldn't drink the latter concoction because I was still pissed about the fornication in St. Patrick's Cathedral stunt the former had sponsored a couple years ago.

We had to break off the pool and head for Beau-Jo's pizza and more beer. I tried their home brew but went back to Bass. The pizza was great though. Kevin steered us to this place because he used to live in Denver. Bern had her second beer. The two Pats and Kevin and I weren't keeping count. Just make sure you eat at least one slice of pizza for each beer you drink.

Speaking of church, the Mass we had attended a mere hour earlier was a truly and uniquely modern spectacle. When we entered the band was already playing. Yeah, not the organ or the piano or even the guitar or the six-piece chamber orchestra, but the band. Drums , bongos, electric gee-tars, electric keyboard, horns, cymbals and, of course, a rattling tambourine. A phalanx of huge speakers in the ceiling made sure the noise thundered throughout. Some guy was seated at a console about halfway up the aisle, busily attending to a bunch of switches and green lights. I think it was power central for the sound system. A banner on a pillar up near to what we used to call the altar said, "Teen life." As opposed to what? I wondered.

I knelt and tried to pray for all the babies who'd been slaughtered in the womb and all the others still in danger of the surgeon's dancing vegematic blade, and all the sick and dead people I knew and had ever known, and for Elizabeth's job prospects in the ballet world, and for a reduction of the odds against my lottery ticket, but I couldn't hear myself think so I gave up and sat back, which was what everyone else was doing anyway.

Bern and I looked at each other and shook our heads.

"This is like ____'s church," she said, mentioning a Prot friend she'd once accompanied to his rather obscure, nondemoninational, wherever two or three are gathered let's all clap our hands and sing together now type place.

I looked at Mary Helyn. "What the hell is this?"

"Shhh!" she whispered.

Suddenly the music stopped and some late high school or early college age girl grabbed a mike and started warming up the crowd for the main event. Do we have any visitors? Well, hey there, welcome to Denver. Would you all stand up? Where you from? Let's make them feel welcome, folks. Applause. And on and on. She had a real routine, as if she'd been trained for it, and never missed a beat. I thought Tony Robbins and his grotesque, tooth-filled parody of a smile might come skipping out at any minute to chop a board in half with his bare hands.

Bern and I kept exchanging glances and her mother kept giving us dirty looks. She doesn't like what she calls "negativity" before, during or after church time. She finally leaned over and whispered, "This is what happens when you don't get up in the morning and have to come to the teen mass."

Hell, we'd gotten up at the crack of dawn every day. Couldn't we sleep in just once?

"I thought the Mass was for everybody," I grumbled. "If I want to go to a rock concert I'll buy a ticket." Besides, there were many more adults present than teens because Am Church Catholics don't have that many kids anymore. And the teens that were present weren't exactly jumping in the aisles. They had that exact same zombified stare they always have: Wake me when it's over. Do they really expect to instill a zeal for God with bad rock n' roll when there's better stuff on the radio? And I mean it was bad. I never thought I'd long to hear "Gather Us In." During the Holy, Holy and the Agnus Dei, the drums pounded. I don't know what hymnal they were working out of, but I do believe this was the first Mass in which I recognized not one single piece of so-called music. And all this happening in the diocese of super-orthodox Archbishop Chaput, who must not have fallen comfortably into the role of liturgical cop.

The priest's sermon was okay, telling the story of how he came to be a priest by finally being able to say, which he had not for most of his life, with all his heart, "Thy will, not mine, be done." But, as usual with modern preaching, he didn't bring it home by finding parallels in the lives of us layfolk. None of that stuff you might find in a Newman sermon, like "many are called, few are chosen," or that "the number of Catholics that are to be saved will on the whole be small." No pointed instances that might convict us of loving money before God, of being "selfish, and obstinate, and worldly, and self-indulgent; you neglect your children; you are fond of idle amusements; you scarcely ever think of God from day to day, for I cannot call your hurried prayers morning and night any thinking of Him at all. You are friends with the world, and live a good deal among those who have no sense of religion", in short, of being among those who, were we "to die this night, would be lost forever." Ah, let's hoist one to the good old days.

So what kind of Christian are you, one might ask, who goes to church and then gets drunk while playing pool? Well, first, there is a certain kind of church service that will drive you to drink. Second, I would protest that I wasn't drunk yet, for one man's drunkeness is another's happy face. No, that condition found its onset only toward the end of our stay at Beau-Jo's, and even then the diagnosis could only be approximate. Third, I'm the kind of Christian who can hold his booze, that's what kind. This ability has caused others to remark in amazement, "How can you drive so straight after all those beers?"

"Wow! Two sixpacks and he doesn't slur his words."

"And he doesn't stumble when he walks, either."

As TSO once wrote (approximately), "I'm part German and part Irish, which tends to make me punctual in my drinking." You must make the most of your inheritance, of the talents you've been given. If you don't, there's a penalty. The Bible says. So my liver is a capacious and efficiently ordered mechanism; I feel obligated to see that it lives up to its potential.

The other kind of Christian I am is one who would never force his tastes and habits on another. For example, if in my presence you wanted to play the part of the pseudo-virtuous teetotaller (pregnant women excepted), by my guest. Suffer for the greater glory. If you don't like alcohol, that's fine with me; I'm sorry for your loss and I'll still love you while drinking enough for the both of us. For further example, if I were in charge of the Mass, which I'm obviously not, I'd never shove my stinking lousy taste in music down your earpipes. If you wanted a moment to pray in silence before Mass, I'd find a way to squeeze it in. If you thought the jungle thunder of drums and the endless chatter and wail of human voices did not provide the appropriately reverent ambience for keeping our focus on the sacrifice at the free-standing table, I'd find a way to tone it down.

We left Beau-Jo's and got back to the hotel around ten. We headed straight for the atrium cum pool hall bar and lounge. They didn't close till 11, but the barkeep in the bowtie had already locked the balls in a cabinet. We ordered a round of beers and asked for the balls anyway. So he got them out and we began again. Around 10:45 he calls out that it's fifteen minutes till closing. Yeah, sure, no problem. We ordered another round to keep him loose and gave him a nice tip, but when 11:10 rolled around and we showed no signs of quitting, he came over to the table and started collecting the balls. Bernadette asked if we couldn't turn them in at the desk.

"It's over," he said. "You're keeping people awake."

We looked around at the room windows. They were all dark.

"There's nobody here but us," said Uncle Pat. It was true. We had never seen a light in any window. It was a ghost hotel.

"It's over," repeated the bowtie.

"He just wants out of here. His shift's over," I said.

"That's why I offered..." Bern began.

"He's an ass," I said loudly, "I want my tip back."

Mary Helyn called my name with that note of warning in it that women are so good at. The bowtie walked off with the balls and then disappeared down the hallway leading to the lobby.

But it was undeniable that if he hadn't taken them we'd have been there till 2 A.M. hootin' and hollerin' and playing bad pool. We wouldn't have had to worry about the bar closing because Uncle Pat had a stock of Beck's in an ice chest back in the room. I took one for the road, for old time's sake, for memories lost and friends forgotten, for family partings and all the farewells we'll ever say, and for my Elizabeth, the dancing queen, the one she would have drunk had she still been there, and, more likely, just for the hell of it.

The next day it was goodbye to Denver and the snow-capped mountains way off, the mountains we kept talking about driving to but never found time for, and back to Florida. It was raining when we got here and didn't stop for a week.
---------------

A couple weeks later Elizabeth called and said she had read my novel. She'd asked for it at Christmas (the first person in my family to have ever done so), so I gave it to her in a cardboard box, thinking that with her schedule she'd never get around to it. But she did. She laughed, she cried, she said, and couldn't put it down. Resented having to go to work because it interrupted her reading. I'm going to make her executor of what I like to call my literary estate. I don't care what others call it. God, I miss that kid.

___________________

Comments:

TS said...
I'm still laughing at you referring to your liver as "capacious". You just don't hear that every day. I imagine the scene at the heavenly Gates when St. Peter asks: "did you use your capacious liver to its fullest?"

"I believe I did," says Bill.

Your mission should you decide to accept it is to send those who request it the complete novel in a Word doc.
9:18 PM, August 03, 2005
-------------------------------

William Luse said...
Do you think St. Peter will take an interest in such things? I should be so lucky.

Advice noted.
9:26 PM, August 03, 2005
--------------------------------

mama t said...
Yeah, and I want it, too, when it comes to that.

Sounds like fun. And you coulda had my beer, since I only drink one or maybe two on any evening. But bad pool? Now THAT would be fun!
11:01 PM, August 03, 2005
----------------------------------

William Luse said...
Terry, I have a feeling you'd have fit right in.

11:05 PM, August 03, 2005
------------------------------------

alicia said...
i'll skip the beer(never developed a taste for most of it - except Anchor Steam) but would love the pool.
How much would I have to bribe the dancing queen to run the manuscrpt through a copy machine and mail it to me? I don't just want to read it (the excerpt alone was wonderful) I want to keep it!

1:00 PM, August 04, 2005
---------------------------------

William Luse said...
Soon as I'm done revising it, you can bribe me. I'll post a few chapters as I finish them just to keep you interested. I hope. I'm going to try to get the first chapter up in couple weeks. It'll be at a sister website - I'll let you know.

7:08 PM, August 04, 2005

_____________________________________________

Aug. 19, 2005

The LPGA's...

in Portland, Oregon this week. That means my kid is there. She says the course is sooo beautiful. All these big giant Christmas trees lining every hole. I wonder what they really are.

Right now, at approximately 3:45 P.M., she's at -2 with 2 to play.

Update: she finished at -2. She can stay in the family for another day.

More: Bern's scheduled to be on a reality TV series in January. Fortunately, her part won't involve eating worms, sleeping with scorpions, backstabbing fellow competitors, or indulging any form of immodesty, none of which could transpire in any case absent the obstacle of my dead body.

Update: She shot 79 Saturday and missed the cut. Par for the course.

 ----------------------------

Comments:
none

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