Round three of four, and my feets still hurt.

I had a good feeling about Paula's third round. There was a concert at Ripken Stadium on Saturday night, so our parking/shuttle area was moved to a corporate campus in Belcamp. On the way, I passed a Creamery Lane. An omen? I don't know. It sounded good at the time.

She started the day at even par, teeing off at 12:14pm (in the noonday sun, as they say) and it was a challenge for her to stay there, and it wasn't until the 16th that she got into negative numbers with an elusive birdie putt.

She managed to finish the day at one-under par, but it will be an uphill (if not impossible) battle to win with so many players ahead of her, and the leader at minus 10. So let's reflect on the week so far:

FRUSTRATING: The shitty directions to the Belcamp parking area provided by the LPGA. First, they said, "go west on Route 563" but 563 runs North/South (odd numbers, don't-cha-know). It went downhill from there. We're back to good-old Ripken Stadium on Sunday.

MOST INTERESTING MOMENT: Me and three other spectators helping Suzann Pettersen find her errant second shot in the out-of-bounds weeds on the fifth hole on Thursday.

OTHER MOST INTERESTING EVENT: Leaving my newly-bought umbrella at the 13th green on Friday and not realizing it until I was at 18. Deciding to walk back for a $23 umbrella was a ridiculous proposition, so I gave it up for lost. On Saturday, as Paula got to the 13th green, there I saw my umbrella, still lying where I left it 24 hours ago. I picked it up and brought it home. A souvenir with a story.

OTHER INTERESTING STUFF: Among others walking the course with Paula Creamer was a photographer who was working for Getty Images. He was also taking photos for a Ricoh ad that Paula is doing for their Japanese branch next week. He told me he sent 1,000 images on Friday and will be covering her the entire weekend. I guess, after roughly 2,000 photos they'll find something they like. What a job. We agreed that film blows.

NEAT THING FOR A GOLF GEEK: Walking the course for two days with Paula's coach, David Whelan. Today, her ball fell of the tee at 10 just before she hit, and the chunking sound and subsequent 50-foot shot left us speechless. Because of the elevated tee, all we saw was a dead tee shot accompanied by the chunk. I asked him if his heart stopped beating for a moment, and David said, "You should have been able to take a picture of my face when that happened."

DISTANCE WALKED SO FAR: Approximately 25,000 yards (15 miles) in three days. The three burgers and one breakfast sandwich may equal the caloric output, however.

SUNSCREEN USED: 1 metric ton.

SUNBURN: Rear of calves and partial face, in spite of SPF 45. I hate summer.

THE LOCAL COPS: Are using Cannondale mountain bikes to patrol the perimeter, which I am told "suck." They had a fleet of Trek's which were stolen (how funny is that?) from their trailer and taken to Baltimore. They were left with the sucky Cannondales which "don't feel right." I told them they should get the department to buy them Specialized bikes, since aluminum is yesterday's news.

NOT SURPRISING: I got caught in stalled traffic on I-95 coming home on Saturday. At least once during the week, I'm guaranteed to be stopped on the highway. This time, I enlisted my Garmin Nuvi and got off at the first exit, made my way through Kennett Square via Baltimore Pike and kept moving. Stalled traffic 12 miles from the Delaware Memorial Bridge is no way to spend a Saturday evening. It may have been out of my way, but at least I was moving.

So, other than having Paula fetch a game ball for me and getting my picture in the local newspaper, it was still quite a week. The custom-made CREAMER 1 shirts were a big hit on the course. Several people wondered where I got them and I'm guessing that I may be a trend setter of sorts.

It's a shame I can't sell them for a huge profit.

I said "goodbye" to a few people today, but I can't guarantee that I won't go back for the final round on Sunday. Stay tuned.

You will, right?

I'm the local news.

I stopped at a Havre de Grace 7/11 on my way to Bulle Rock today to buy a few newspapers. As you may remember (you do, right?) I had my photo snapped by a Hartford County newspaper photog while walking the course with Paula Creamer on Thursday. I was figuring they wouldn't print it, with me being from New Jersey and all, but lo and behold (whatever that means) here it was, on page 10 of The Record (serving Havre de Grace, Aberdeen, Perryville and Port Deposit):

It beat the Hell out of the story on page three of the Aberdeen man who was killed while trying to cross Route 40. I took a shuttle bus.

Meanwhile, on the course today, I had another opportunity to enjoy the company of Paula's mother Karen. I wanted to tell her how impressed I was with her daughter's kindness toward me on Thursday, and she remembered meeting me the past couple of years on the course. We chatted and walked the course with Paula in the mid-June Maryland heat.

The morning started off promisingly, with clouds and a cool breeze. The clouds reminded me that I had forgotten to bring my umbrella, so I beat a retreat to the souvenir stand, which coincidentally was selling umbrellas. For $23.50 it seemed like cheap insurance. It was, for a while.

Five minutes before Paula teed off (at 1:09pm) the skies brightened and the wind stopped and that Maryland heat kicked in. The umbrella was an ornament now, and truly a souvenir. Unfortunately for me, I'm absent minded, and the heat makes my mind wander, and once I was standing on 18 (Paula teed off at hole 10) I realized I had left the umbrella on the ground near the 13th green. Either I go back for it and miss part of the second half of her round or I let it lie and (a) go back for it later or (b) leave it for the squirrels. I decided on b.

I finished the round with Paula, who had started the day at 2-over (and in danger of not making the cut and going home early) but finished at even par and assuredly playing on Saturday, with me likely in tow. Along the way, I got a few nifty tidbits from mom and met her coach David Whelan, who was walking the course as well. I thought about going back for the umbrella, but if someone had offered me $23.50 to walk the 1,000 yards from hole 9 (where Paula finished) to 13 (where the umbrella may not still be waiting) I'd have said, "Thanks, but no thanks."

As it was, I didn't leave the course until nearly 7:00pm, and may have missed the last bus to the parking area had I gone back for the rain gear.

So, there she is, 7 shots off the lead but still playing on Saturday. Anything's possible in golf, including, but not limited to, finding my umbrella in the lost and found on Saturday, or having Paula come from 7 shots back to win the thing.

I'll keep you posted.

A brush with greatness

Some things take me by surprise. Mostly, because I'm cynical by nature and partly because I'm just surprised.

As faithful readers know, I'm a fan of LPGA golfer Paula Creamer. Following golf requires that one pick a "favorite" and when I attend an event or watch on television, I like to have someone to root for. Rooting for Paula is easy because she embodies everything that I imagine athletes to be: Appreciative of her fans, friendly, easy to like and generally a good person. Two years ago, upon meeting her mother on the course at Bulle Rock, I told her that Paula was "my favorite professional athlete." What happened today cemented that belief.

As usual, I spent the day walking the course with her group, which included Nichole Castrale and Kristy McPherson. Today, I went to the LPGA Championship garbed in a custom-made Paula Creamer T-shirt (above) and evidently, was the envy of my fellow Creamer followers. To the extent that a local newspaper photographer asked for my name and home town, because she took a photo of the back of my shirt that may or may not appear in the local Havre de Grace newspaper on Friday morning. I'll let you know.

Anyway, I stalked the 6,350 yard course step by step with Paula. It was obvious that she was uncomfortable, more so by some illness than the 2-over par she would shoot. After the round, a small group gathered at the scoring tent at the 18th green where the players sign autographs for their adoring fans. Paula signed a ball and hat for me last year, so I wasn't all that anxious to bother her, but the group wasn't very large, and I had a hand full of souvenir Bulle Rock balls that I bought at the gift shop. Travelling light.

As I handed her one, she sadly announced, "Oh, I'm sorry, I can't sign that." She has a deal with Precept, and the Bulle Rock balls are made by Pinnacle, so it's technically a breach of her contract.

I said, "I'm sorry," and she asked if I "had anything else I could sign."

"No, I don't, I'm sorry." There were a lot of sorry's going on. Meanwhile, I think she knew I was the guy in the "1 CREAMER" shirt, so maybe I had that going for me?

She replied, "I'll find my caddy and I'll get you a ball."

Dumbfounded, I said, "OK" and stood there while she signed for the rest of the people who were waiting behind me. I was a little (a lot) confused, because I couldn't imagine that she would go out of her way to fetch a ball from her caddy to sign for me, but that's Paula.

When she finished with the others, she asked me to follow her to the other end of the practice green where her bag was with the balls. I double-timed it over there, and she pulled a "game ball" out of her bag and signed it for me (pictured below). I thanked her and asked if she "saw the shirt." She said, "Yes, I did" (how could she miss it?) and threw me a smile and the thumbs-up sign.

The black line is where the players mark the balls to line up their putts. The Pink Panther logo is her nickname, and Precept makes the balls especially for her, which is why it's so special to me.

The thing that made it so dramatic was that she was ill from some sort of virus and had barely a speaking voice, but found the time to sign a special ball for a fan and (in my opinion) go out of her way to make me happy. It's why I'm a fan (for life) of hers and why I go to LPGA tournaments. It's not the type of thing you'd hear a Major League baseball player do, or for that matter, most other LPGA players.

Paula is the number 3 player on the tour, but as far as I'm concerned, she's number one, and always will be.

My feets hurt.

Today began my annual four-day trek to Maryland to see the McDonald's LPGA Championship at Bulle Rock Country Club. It will be my final time, because the tournament is in the last year of a 5-year deal, so next year's Championship will be held elsewhere. In the past, I've added up the total distance I walked during the tournament. Suffice it to say, it's enough to make my feet hurt and my aging knees swell a bit. My love of the LPGA is exceeded only by how much I love complaining.

Wednesday is what they call the practice round, but mostly, it's colleting autographs and photographs of the players while they mill around the putting green, driving range and various parts of the golf course. I collected about a hundred photos and some autographs, most notably Hall of Famer Se Ri Pak.

To the right is Natalie Gulbis, who you may recognize from her recent appearance on Celebrity Apprentice. I think she was fired. She was doing an interview with a local TV station shortly before being mobbed by fans waiting for her to leave the putting green. She posed for photos with about 20 people, smiling and signing autographs. I asked her caddy if "it's like this everywhere she goes." He said, "This is kind of tame." It's a shame she doesn't win more, because she'd be a great representative for the LPGA. Much better than Lorena Ochoa, who has the personality of a six-iron.

I followed Suzann Pettersen around for a little while, but during the practice rounds the play is slow (even slower than normal) and players often hit two or three balls.

Suzann is a great player, but she isn't what you'd call "personable." She's from Norway, which should tell you everything you need to know about how personable she is. I'd like to see her liven it up a little, but not everyone can be Paula Creamer. I followed her until the persistent heat caught up with my enjoyment of watching her stand around.

Speaking of Paula (and I was) I got to the course at 8:00am and somehow missed her completely. She tees off at 9:16 Thursday, so I'll be on the road early to walk the round with her. Maybe I can get in before it gets too hot.

I don't know what it is about the earth south of the Chesapeake, but the heat is different somehow. I think the temperature was around 80 degrees, but the sky was hazy and I'd guess the humidity was about 75%. I've determined that I could never live there because there isn't enough sunscreen and bottled water to keep me going until I die, which is interesting because two of my favorite places are Baltimore and Washington, DC. NOTE TO SELF: Don't forget to take a hand towel with you on Thursday.

I went through most of the day with white specs from napkins on my face from continually wiping my face. The thing that interests me is that I look around and I don't see anyone struggling with the heat the way I do. I drank 36 ounces of water in four hours, so I was hydrated. Of course, part of it was coming out of my body in a different way that it went in, so who knows what's going on.

Three thoughts and one rant.

"so thought I'd drop by and see what your thoughts are on hillary's decision to drop out and support barack?"

- Kimmyk

My thoughts. Politics are funny business. Two people can go at each other for 6 months, then when one wins, the other must reconcile and decide to support the other, even though in (her) heart she knows the support wishes are bullshit and she would rather have stepped on (his) throat than to try to heal the party by pretending to unify it. But the Democrats are in such sorry shape now that (she) must do what is best for the party and lend (him) (her) support, whether or not (she) believes what (she) is saying.

I read a news story yesterday that said the Obama campaign is willing to help Hillary with financial support for her campaign expenses, so like a lot of things, it comes down to money.

I'm fascinated by horse racing. There are so-called experts who think that they can predict with certainty what a horse is going to do and tell us that they know. I don't think the horse knows it's in a race and for someone to tell us that they know what a horse is going to do is presumptuous at best. That's why I was so happy to see 38-1 Da'Tara win the Belmont Stakes and 1-4 favorite Big Brown finish last. Last. With the UPS logo all over the place, the jockey pulled him up and let him finish last. UPS is the best package delivery business in the world, but a horse doesn't know that, and neither do people.

I wish I could have gone back to Bulle Rock today for the third round of the LPGA Championship, but it was 102 degrees on the course and my fragile system can't take it. Instead, I rode a bicycle 55 miles and was comfortably indoors before noon. The tournament was on hi-def TV at 4, so I had time for a nap. Annika will be in the final group tomorrow, and it would be a treat to be able to watch her win another major championship, but the weather isn't going to be any better on Sunday, so I suppose I'll take it in on the TV again. When the commentators are talking about how hot it is, I know I don't have a snowball's chance of making it.

Here's the supermarket rant from Friday:

As you know, I find the filmy plastic bags a bane on society and have chosen to carry my own canvas bags to the store, with the added bonus of a nickel discount for every bag I use.

My tiny order needed two bags, and I supplied them. The cashier tried her best to put my cat litter in a plastic bag and I immediately said, "I have my own bags," and launched into a minor rant about how much oil it takes to make a bag and how they're part of the problem.

There was also a bagger, which I usually appreciate. This time, however he was also a bane on society. He tried mightily to use the yellow plastic, and after hearing my little rant, said something strange like, "Yes, they're a problem until you get product in them, then they're OK," which made little sense to me, and after walking 7,000 yards just made me blink my eyes a few times.

When the stuffed tilapia came through the counter (immediately following the plastic-wrapped and boxed soap) the bagger went into a minor convulsion and put the fish into a plastic bag, even though it was itself wrapped in plastic, saying "I put the fish in a bag, I hope you don't mind," (knowing I would) and disappeared before I could remind him of the additional plastic wrap which would also wind up in the local landfill.

So, not only did I have to waddle home with a useless plastic bag, I also didn't get the ten cent discount I was entitled to for using my own bags.

NOTE TO ZALLIE'S SHOP RITE: Educate your cashiers. I didn't get the discount today either on my second trip in as many days. Also, it wouldn't be a bad idea to ban the stupid, wasteful bags like they have in some so-called Third World countries and Whole Food Markets which should be a competitor of yours.

I'm sick and tired ("and tired" always follows "sick") of the plastic bags and I'm also sick and tired of the lazy-ass shoppers who leave their idling vehicles in the fire lane while their equally lazy-ass partners run in "for a few minutes" to buy something that will invariably be placed in a plastic bag.

What a stupid world.

It's a little about golf, but it's more like another rant.

BLOGGER'S NOTE: Compare the weather forecast box below to the one I put on Wednesday's post and see how, in merely two days, the forecast can change significantly - then tell me if you think these guys know what in Hell they're doing. That wasn't the rant.

Rather than bore you with details of another fine day on the Bulle Rock golf course, I'll give you a few details, then launch into yet another of my rantings.

Today was the last day before a wretched heat wave ruins another weekend, so it was probably my final day at the LPGA McDonald's Championship. Today, rather than follow one player through the entire course, I decided to follow several players, hopscotching through the groups and seeing a few holes with each.

I started with the five-star group of Ochoa, Pressel and Webb. They started in the morning, so I was able to walk the front 9 with them before I had to leave to join Annika Sorenstam's group, who teed-off at 12:37. Of course, Annika is retiring this year, so I felt I owed it to myself to watch her for the last time. She missed quite a few easy birdie putts before I left to join Christie Kerr, who made quite a few easy birdie putts, so I know it wasn't me. I spent most of the day with Suzann Pettersen, who is the number three ranked woman golfer, but a bit hard to like. She isn't nearly as personable as Paula Creamer (who is?) and I keep waiting for her to take over the game, but she doesn't seem strong enough to beat Ochoa right now.

Later, I sat under one of the few shade trees at the par-3 7th hole and watched a few more groups come through and ended the day with Annika as she finished up. Altogether, I was at the course from 8:30am to nearly 5:00pm. A long day to be sure and another 7,000 yards of walking at least. However, I got home in time to watch most of it on the Golf Channel at night.

The photo below is today's autograph booty. Top row - Liselotte Neumann, Sophie Gustafson and Jimin Kang (Psalms 23:1) a nice kid, who I told to "go out and kick their butts this weekend". Bottom row - Christina Kim and Suzann Pettersen, playing partners today and polar opposites.

Here's the rant I promised.

I keep hearing junk about how we're being oppressed by high gasoline prices and people are fed up. Meanwhile, as I stopped at a fast food franchise for a drive-home chicken sandwich, I noticed at least six cars in the oddly named "Drive-Thru Window" idly idling, burning costly gasoline. I parked my car and went inside (more walking) to find nobody in line at the counter. The place was empty - on the inside - just like the heads of the dopes waiting in their running vehicles. Apparently, we aren't angry enough or spending enough money on gasoline to force us to move our asses. When will that happen?

The drive to and from was equally exasperating. I set the cruise control at 70 and found that I passed nearly nobody in the 65-mile trip to and from Havre de Grace, Maryland - all of it on Interstate 95. People are still driving like madmen, weaving and braking through traffic with no regard for the amount of money they are throwing away by behaving like children. I say, they get what they deserve and the next person who complains to me about the high cost of gasoline, I will immediately reply, "Well, if you'd stop driving like a jackass, you'd save a little of that money", and I don't even have to see them because I have a high probability of being right.

I have another one about the ensuing trip to the grocery store, but I'll save that for Saturday. One rant at a time.

You call this a vacation?

My week off from work is winding down. Today was spent in Maryland at the Bulle Rock golf course watching the LPGA McDonald's Championship (presented by Coca Cola). After two straight late-nights at Dave Matthews shows (and yes, I did think of you), I couldn't wait to get up at 6am and drive 65 miles to walk 6,630 yards (3.76 miles) with my favorite athletes - particularly Paula Creamer, whom I walked the course with today. Paula missed at least 4 easy birdie putts on the first 7 holes and I think her first inclination was to heave her putter into the lake, but she still had 11 holes to play. She finished one-under par.

Paula's group was finished around 2:00pm, and I had the chance to go back out and walk the back 9 with Lorena Ochoa, Morgan Pressel and Karrie Webb, but I needed to get back to do my Thursday night 28-mile bike ride with the shop group - and my feet hurt. I know.

The good news is that I'm going back on Friday, and since Paula's group teed off early (9:16am), she'll get a late tee-time on Friday, so I can sleep-in a bit. Today, her group went out just behind Annika Sorenstam's group, and for a minute, I considered walking with Annika, since she is retiring after this season, and it's the last time I'll be able to watch her play; but I couldn't dis my girl. I'll walk with Annika on Friday, because I'm a sentimental guy, and I think it might be cool to see her play before she hangs it up. I can only be so loyal.

Friday will also be my final day on the course this year. The forecast for the weekend is Hellish, and even with liberal doses of sunscreen, a bucket hat and sunglasses, there's only so much sun-time my fragile, aging skin can endure. High temperatures in the mid 90s with increasing humidity will allow me the luxury of watching the final two rounds on the TV.

Annika finished the first round at 2-under and only 4 strokes off the lead, and the leader is somebody named Emily Bastel, so you know that ain't going to last. There's still a chance that a little history can be made.

Vacation Day One: McDonald's Championship at Bulle Rock

Today was the first day of the McDonald's LPGA Championship at Bulle Rock Country Club in Havre de Grace, Maryland. Well, kind of the first day. Today was one of the Pro-Am days, where the sponsor's corporate pals get to play a round of golf with one of the LPGAs professionals. I guess you have to be a corporate high-roller or one of McDonald's big suppliers to get invited, and from what I heard, hackers came from all over the country to drive balls into the sand and miss 4-foot putts with some of the best golfers in the world.

I didn't go to the Pro-Am last year, so I thought I'd run down there this year and see what goes on. The answer: Not too much. Since most of the girls played on Sunday in South Carolina, the field was pretty slim, and mostly made up of whomever didn't make last week's cut or didn't play at all. The big attraction was Natalie Gulbis, who would be the big attraction no matter who showed up.

I could have spared myself getting up at 6am, since Natalie didn't tee-off until 12:30. Without the crush of fans, it was pretty easy to snap a few photos and collect a few autographs of some of my favorite players.

Among the throng were the usual group who seemed more interested in collecting names than in actually ... well, knowing who they are. Many times I got nudged and asked, "Who's that?" while the autograph seeker fumbled for his pen. "Ooooh ... she must be somebody!" whenever anyone showed up in those spiky shoes and a visor. Granted, it isn't everyone who can tell Leta Lindley from Sandra Gal, but geez, if you're going to bother them for a signature, you should at least know whom you're bothering. They're so nice to us, that it's the least we can do to know who we're talking with. Call me a weirdo, but I don't ask someone for an autograph if I don't know who I'm asking.

Leta should have been recognizable to anyone who follows the game. She won two weeks ago at Corning. Sandra Gal is a promising rookie who most people don't know, but give her time and you probably will. Natalie is about as nice as can be. She took time to sign our autograph requests and even pose for a photo or two for people who presumably knew whom they were posing with. It's the first time I've seen her (she didn't play last year) and seeing how she handles herself and how nice she is to people, I have to admit that I'm a bigger fan than I was before.

The photo below is this year's collection of souvenir golf balls, joining last year's Paula Creamer and Annika Sorenstam. That's Natalie (top), Sandra Gal (left) Morgan Pressel and Leta. The balls have the Bulle Rock logo on the other side, so they're nice little mementos of another day on the golf course that even a two-hour traffic jam on Route 95 couldn't screw up.

Normally, it's a little more than an hour drive to and from - 65 miles exactly - on Interstate 95 to exit 85. At 2 o'clock, after walking 6 holes with Natalie, I sent a text message to one of my riding buddies and told him I'd be home in time to do our 6pm ride with the shop. I even figured I'd have a little time for a nap. Construction on I-95 stopped traffic outside Newark and it took 90 minutes to travel 3 miles. I wish I'd had my bike. What should have taken a little more than an hour took almost 3, and I waddled in the front door at 5:30. Nothing like a little stress to finish the day. And yes, I made the ride.

Tuesday: The Dave Matthews Band at the Susquehanna Center in Camden, NJ.

A little known advancement in civilization.

BEIJING (Reuters) - On Sunday, China became the latest country to declare war on plastic bags in a drive to save energy and protect the environment. Under new regulations, flimsy bags under 0.025 millimeters thick are banned and shopkeepers must charge for carrier bags. China, which consumes 37 million barrels of crude oil each year to manufacture more than one trillion plastic bags, is following in the footsteps of countries such as Ireland, Rwanda and Bangladesh. Italy is due to introduce a ban by 2010.

So, I guess that puts the U.S. behind some so-called Third World countries in the category of sensibility. I've grown to hate those plastic bags almost as much as I've grown to hate the giant vehicles that cart them around. Now it's time for our so-called lawmakers to do something that may actually help us - God forbid - and help us keep pace with the rest of the world. Oh wait - they're working on that Stimulus Package that will save our economy 600 dollars at a time ... oh ... I didn't get mine yet ... never mind.

One reaction to the Mixed Martial Arts garbage that CBS subjected the nation to on Saturday night was that their broadcast may have "turn[ed] off a large segment to the country to what is a classic and compelling sport." What is classic and compelling about a couple of people inside a chain link fence beating each other senseless? Calling it "arts" is a mockery to begin with, and it remains to be seen whether we will be subjected to more of it. Suffice it to say that it is a sad commentary on society that such nonsense is broadcast on a major network in prime time when children are able to watch. Meanwhile, we can't show two people making love and it is a major event when two people of the same sex kiss on television, yet we can (and do) show two people beating each other senseless without protest. Can someone explain the logic behind that? What a stupid world.

My week will be much less violent and significantly more civilized. This is the week that the LPGA plays the McDonald's Championship in Havre de Grace, Maryland and I will be there for a significant portion of it. On Monday I will take in the Pro-Am competition and Wednesday I will be there for the practice round, as I was last year - as faithful readers will recall. Weather permitting, I'll be around for a round or three through Sunday.

In the meantime, there are two Dave Matthews Band shows at our little amphitheater in Camden on Tuesday and Wednesday, so I'll be moving rather quickly for a couple of days at least. The good news is I'll have plenty of blog material for the week, and a good number of golfer-chick photos to share.

The bad news is that I'll have precious little sleep in between, but at least I won't be watching anyone beating anybody senseless. So, I have that going for me.

Make up your own headline

Finally ... a headline I can get excited about ...

Women Prefer Men Who Look Like Dad

Now, I can start getting those 20-year old's to start looking at me. I'm your daddy.

Meanwhile, some guys are at Oakmont playing a golf tournament. Something called the U.S. Open, or so I hear. The girls are taking the week off, so I might tune in. This story on Yahoo News talks about the autograph seekers waiting in the hot sun for players to sign stuff.

By Wednesday afternoon, some autograph seekers were already posting their goods online. Several white U.S. Open flags, featuring Oakmont's squirrel logo, were selling on eBay with as many as 50 autographs on them. Bids on most started around $199.

Pikers. That hat I had autographed at Bulle Rock last week ... you'll pry it from my cold, dead hands. And Paula's pink golf ball -- I might be buried with that baby.

On reflection, it was as great a week as I have had watching any sport, and as long as none of them beats up John Daly, they have a fan for life. Even though, I'll bet Annika or Suzann could take him. You'll forgive me for going on and on about it, but no one I know really cares much for the ladies golf, so this is my only outlet. They're playing the ADT Championship in West Palm Beach, Florida in November. Methinks that would make a Hell of a vacation.

It appears that reports of President Bush's wristwatch being stolen were greatly exaggerated. Shucks. However, stealing is running rampant at your local Wal-Mart:

NEW YORK (AP) - Shoppers at Wal-Mart stores across America are loading carts with merchandise - maybe a flat-screen TV, a few DVDs and a six-pack of beer - and strolling out without paying. Employees also are helping themselves to goods they haven't paid for.

Maybe if they paid people a decent wage, or didn't convince us that we cannot live without the crap they are stealing, or figured out a way to increase the standard of living for people at the low end of the economic food chain they wouldn't feel the need to resort to stealing. Merchants like Wal-Mart are victims of their own marketing. Tell us we need junk and don't pay us enough to actually buy it, so the evil shopper takes over and, lacking usable credit or the will to find it, steals. It's pretty simple, really.

About 47 percent of the dollars lost came from employee theft, while shoplifting accounted for about 32 percent, according to the National Retail Federation report. Administrative errors account for 14 percent, while supplier fraud accounts for 4 percent. The remaining 3 percent is unaccounted for.

Unaccounted for. The perfect crime and imperfect grammar. Is that which is unaccounted.

Eduardo Castro-Wright, president and CEO of Wal-Mart's U.S. store division, briefly acknowledged the theft problem in a mid-May conference call with analysts. He cited shrinkage as well as increased markdowns and higher inventory for dragging down first-quarter profit margins. "We are concerned about shrinkage and are investigating the cause and are taking steps to correct it," Castro-Wright said.

Eduardo, my friend ... we are all concerned about shrinkage.

We so really are.

My Final Round

There aren't too many people that I would (a) Drive 60 miles to see (b) walk for 4 hours through the hot sun for and (c) walk 6,596 yards for 4 hours through the hot sun after driving 60 miles to hang with. One of them was playing golf at Bulle Rock today, and even though Paula Creamer couldn't find her putter, it was still a great day for golf.

It started early. I watched a few of the Plus three's tee off - Michelle Wie, Lorie Kane and Brittany Lang, then I headed for the best spot on the golf course; the hill that overlooks the 4th hole, 5th tee, 6th green, 7th and 8th holes. It's a great spot that fills up quickly. I sat up there in one of the few shady spots on the course for about 3 hours, until Christie Kerr's group came by, and I followed them back to the ninth hole. Paula Creamer was set to tee off at 2:22.

It isn't a lot of fun watching the low end of the leaderboard play through. It reminded me of those NASCAR races where cars that crash early come out of the garage with 75 laps to go and run around collecting points while the leaders whiz by. Maybe they should do another cut-down on Saturday? Although, I have to admit to an evil gratification as I watched the standard bearer with WIE 8 walking by. Before she was out of hill-view range, it was WIE 11, and she finished the day 14 over par. Tee hee. She attracted a huge crowd, following her like puppies. I can only imagine that people are fascinated by bad golf. My guess is that she will withdraw from the tournament before Sunday's play begins.

I followed Paula through the course again, and once again encountered her mom, Karen, who amazingly called me by name when she saw me on the second green. Paula was having trouble with the putter, and missed several easy birdie putts. She finished the day 4 under, but could just as easily been 7 under. She also lost a club cover on the 6th tee. It was returned to her on the 15th tee, and she looked like she found a lost puppy. It was a teddy bear that was dressed up like an English Bobby. Colin, her caddy, is British, and she said that he is allowed to have "one thing from England on the bag," and that was it. She patted it on it's furry head and said, "Welcome back." It was the only time she smiled all day. She finished the day tied for 13th, 6 shots off the lead.

The day's booty came at the end of the round. Paula was finishing up while Annika Sorenstam and Morgan Pressel were signing their scorecards. There is an area outside the scorer's trailer that is designated for players to sign autographs after their round. With Annika hanging around, I couldn't resist. All I had with me was my souvenir McDonald's Championship golf ball, which, as you can see, now bears her signature.

Paula's tee time on Sunday is 1:22, but she may be going without me on the cartpath. I'm a little burned out - literally and figuratively. Even with the sunscreen, I'm not sure if my calves can take another day in the sun, my feet hurt and I'm a little tired of driving a groove between here and Havre de Grace. Sunday night's traffic going north toward home might be enough to keep me here. It was balls of fun, though, and I'll go back next year for sure.
I picked up a lot of interesting things about the tour and what an interesting game golf is, especially to see it in person. It is difficult, though, to decide whether to watch one player or one hole. It's interesting to see how different players play the same hole, but also interesting to watch one player through a round and see how she adjusts to the game. I suppose if one doesn't have a favorite player, it doesn't matter, but I couldn't stay at one hole while Paula played through.

If you watched the TV coverage, I'm on it a bunch of times. I'm the little white speck on those aerial shots, standing along the fairway, the tee or the green waiting for Paula Creamer to hit a shot. You probably need hi-def to sort out the details.

There are still a couple of interesting sidelights that I may decide to post, but they can wait until my sunburn heals.

When the going gets tough, they always scream for Mom

One of the principles that America's founding fathers had in mind when they drew up the Constitution was that we would be a nation of laws and not a nation of men. Of course, this stems from the country from which they came. Royalty places itself over the commoners and as such, they get preferential treatment in adjudicating cases. As it is with so many other issues, the principles set forth in 1776 become irrelevant when placed in current society. You would have to be naïve to think that we are all treated equally in life, but sometimes the issue is so outrageous that even the most hardened and cynical among us have to scratch our heads and wonder, WTF?

Paris Hilton was taken from a courtroom screaming and crying Friday, seconds after a judge ordered her returned to jail to serve out her entire 45-day sentence for a parole violation in a reckless driving case.

"It's not right!" shouted the weeping Hilton. "Mom!" she called out to her mother in the audience. Hilton, who was brought to court in handcuffs in a sheriff's car, came into the courtroom disheveled and weeping. Her hair was askew and she wore a gray fuzzy sweatshirt over slacks. She wore no makeup and she cried throughout the hearing.

Well, Paris, it is right. Going to court "disheveled" sounds like a scam to me. Michael Jackson at least had the decency to wear pajamas to court. Get it together, kid. By the way, if that job of holding the umbrella for MJ ever opens up, I'm your man.
This Hilton story has way too many angles and way too much nonsense to get involved with it. I'm not even that excited about blogging on it, but the thing that gets to me is that supposedly, she is under some mental hardship over this 45-day jail sentence. 45 days? I guess the pampered bitch can't live without her eye makeup for a month and a half.
Explain to me again; what exactly does she do for a living?

The United States is a nation of laws: badly written and randomly enforced.
- Frank Zappa US musician, singer & songwriter (1940 - 1993)

You're right Frank, as usual.

I know what you're thinking: No golf today? Nope. After my nearly 10,000 yard walk yesterday and "excessive heat" warnings today, I decided that valor was not the only thing that discretion is the better part of. In other words, why lean into a punch? I'll go on Saturday, when the temperatures will be more like 80 to 85. I watched it on TV today and the players were complaining about the heat. When they complain, you know it's hot.
The ironic thing is that everything I like to do involves being outdoors in the summer - biking, photography and sports - and I have tremendous problems in the heat. Even Thursday, when the temperatures were in the low 80s and a nice breeze was blowing, I suffered. Plus, I burn, so I have to wear gallons of sunscreen if I'm outside for more than 20 minutes. Seriously.

I'll be up at the crack of dawn again Saturday, headed for Maryland. Paula is in striking distance of the lead, but Suzann Pettersen and Karrie Webb will be tough to beat.

Oh ... that was about golf, wasn't it?

Brushes with the friends and relatives of greatness.

Day two at Bulle Rock was Seniors Day, where anyone 50 years of age or older was admitted free. Thankfully, I still have to pay. The joint was full of geezers.

I caught the shuttle from Ripken Stadium and got there at 7:30, and true to my word, I would be there to walk the course with Paula, and as an added bonus, Karrie Webb, another great player on the tour and In-Kyung Kim when they teed off at 8:32. Among the interesting sites would be Karrie's opening drive into a shallow stream on the first hole, where she would remove her shoes to play her second shot. I got to hold the rope over her head while she walked to the stream to find her ball. I got an Aussie "thank you" for my efforts. Sorry I had to do it, Karrie.

The round would go in rather uneventful fashion, with Paula hovering around even par (bogey one - birdie one), Karrie playing slightly under and In-Kyung struggling to recover from the first three disastrous holes. By the time we got to the eighth hole, things started getting interesting.

A spectator overheard me saying that In-Kyung was a pretty good player after recovering to 2-over par after 8 from a 4-over start. The spectator was a friend of hers, who was housing her for the tournament. Her parents could not afford to come here from Korea to see her play, so she depended on her friend from Maryland to give her a place to stay for the week. We talked about her game and career - she is just 18 and a medalist at the LPGA qualifying tournament which earned her exempt status. She's a good player and impressed a lot of people today.

Later in the day, someone pointed out a couple of people who had been walking the course with Paula. One of them looked amazingly like Paula, and was even dressed similarly in pink skirt and white top. The other, in blue Capri pants, I was told, was her mother. By the time we got to the 15th hole, she was by herself, so I decided to approach her and find out if my sources were correct.

"Excuse me, but I understand that you are Paula's mother," I wondered.

"Yes, I am. My name is Karen," she replied.

I introduced myself and told her that Paula "is my favorite professional athlete." She looked back with a smile and said, "Really? All athletes?" by which she meant, baseball, football and such.

"Yep. I'm a good judge of character, and I like everything about Paula. She was very nice to me yesterday." By now I realize that I'm talking to her mom, and just as we finish our little chit-chat, Paula hit a terrible shot on 15 which went into the rough to the right. "That's a little right," I said.

"Oh ... it's worse than that," Karen replied.

"Well, I'm just trying to be nice because you're here," I told her. As it turned out, it wasn't as bad as it seemed, but you know mothers. I won't bore you with minuate (unless you want me to), but we had a nice chat through a couple of holes and it is obvious that the apple did not fall far from the tree.

After Paula had finished her round, I found a concession stand and was in dire need of something besides the 80 ounces of water I had drank over the past 5 hours. A cheeseburger and ... Powerade for lunch. There was a nearly empty table with a lone woman sitting there. I wondered if she would mind some company.

"Not at all, sit down," she told me. Then she asked, "Who are you following?" To which, the obvious answer would come from me.

"Well, that's OK, but if you need someone else to root for, you should root for my niece - Christie Kerr," she said. She was wearing the telltale "GUEST" pass that tells people she didn't pay to get in, regardless of her age.

"I like Christie," I said, without fear of being uncovered as a fibber. How can you not like Christie? She hates to lose, gets assed-up over stuff and shows her feelings on the course. Besides, I had already decided to find her on the course and follow the rest of her round after I finished my lunch, so I would see her later whether she knew it or not (and I did).

She went on to tell me some interesting details about Christie's life as a pro golfer. For example, she got $250,000 as an appearance fee to play a tournament in Korea rather than play the Ginn Tribute and how the money they make as "earnings" on the tour is a fraction of what they really earn. Money from Mutual of Omaha (plastered on her bag and hat), shoe contracts, club contracts and even make-up contracts - where she is paid for wearing Estee Lauder make-up, as though we would care. This, in addition to a swing coach and a putting coach. Not to forget the caddies, who get a salary plus 10% of the golfer's earnings. Christie pays her coaches' expenses if they have to travel to find her and help. It's a bit of a racket, but as long as nobody is holding a gun to another's head, I say - go for it.

Christie wasn't playing very well on Thursday, and wobbled between 1 over and 3 over for the time I followed her. She missed an eagle putt on 8 (she started on 10), birdied it, then bogeyed 9 to finish at 3 over par, eight shots off the lead and was last seen heading for the driving range after her round.

Through all that, I walked a little over 9,000 yards (18 holes with Paula and 6 with Christie), met 3 relatives and friends of three great players, had a nice nap on the grass behind the first tee and saw some great and not so great golf. There is a severe heat warning in the forecast for Friday, with high temperatures in the mid 90s and high humidity. I will skip the second round in lieu of TV coverage and heat stroke and return on Saturday for the third round and hopefully, more stunning revelations from the good people who populate the LPGA tour. These Girls Rock is not just an advertising slogan. They really do. They so really do.

Upon boarding the bus back to Ripken Stadium, I asked the man in front of me what time it was.

"Six thirty-five," he replied.

"Holy cow! Really?" I said, as though he would lie to me.

"Yep."

"Wow. I completely lost track of time." I told him.

"You must have had a good time." he wondered.

"Yes ... I did."

I so really did.

Just me and the girls, hanging out at the CC

"I expect some good practice round pictures at least..."
- Sparky Duck, June 5, 2007.

Well, Sparks old buddy ... I hope the above snapshot qualifies as a good picture! That's me and Paula Creamer after her practice round today. After missing a couple of opportunities to grab the photo, it looked like Paula was heading back to the clubhouse to call it a day, so I quickly commandeered an unsuspecting spectator and gave her my camera and called to Paula, who politely agreed. The poor kid.

The day began early. I got to the course at around 9:00am after a little more than an hour drive and shuttle bus. I figured I would walk the course with someone and take in the sights and sounds of my first live golf tournament. What I didn't realize was how accessible the players would be. Once that became obvious, I abandoned my walking idea and spent most of the day hanging at the practice green (between the first tee and the clubhouse) and watching the players wander around and tee off on their practice round.
By the time I got there, Paula and Nancy Lopez were already on the course, and as she wandered out of the clubhouse to play another round, I asked her to autograph my hat, which by this time already had some significant signatures, and would wind up with a lot more.

The hat contains the signatures of Se Ri Pak, Sherri Steinhauer, Morgan Pressel, Christina Kim, Nancy Lopez (blue), Paula Creamer (pink), Pat Hurst, Mi Hyun Kim, Michelle McGann, Patricia Meunier-Lebouc, Reilly Rankin, Brittany Lincicome, Lorie Kane, Stephanie Louden, Kim Hall ...
and Annika Sorenstam.

OK, so I'm a geek. There, I said it. I haven't chased after autographs in years, and I wasn't expecting to do it today, either. The players were so close and it wasn't very crowded, so it was kind of easy. That, plus the fact that most of the girls are very nice and they make a point of stopping and signing things for people who ask politely. I had to buy another hat to wear, since the one I bought first is now a museum piece at MSM HQ.
Oh, and the pink ball. She uses pink balls on Sunday's. Well, I had that already, unsigned, and after Paula finished her practice round she was hanging around again - she does a lot of hanging around - so I decided that I might not have another opportunity to get it signed, even though I still maintain that an autographed golf ball is among the oddest things to get signed - but there it is. I took it with me thinking that it would be the only thing I would have signed, and it turned out to be almost an afterthought.

So, as it was, I only saw one hole of actual golf. Paula and Nancy took off on their second round, and I decided to stay at the practice green until they got to the 9th hole, then I would walk the rest of the course and take off for home. I caught up to them on the 8th green, watched them play the 9th - then they called it a day. The practice is interesting and a little strange. They hit at least 2 off both the men's and women's tees. play all the balls from the fairway and putt around the green for a while. The caddies throw out circular paper coasters to act as surrogate holes, and they putt at each of them to simulate the way the holes move during the tournament. They chip a few from the fringe, talk a lot and generally loaf around each hole.

Once they were done, I was getting pretty tired from standing in the sun for the past 5 hours, then someone said that Annika Sorenstam was due to emerge at 3pm. Sure enough, she came out to do some putting, and sign some autographs.

Even though Lorena Ochoa is number one (deservedly), Annika will always be the best player on the tour in my book. She's the one responsible for getting me interested to begin with, and her recent back problems have opened the door for Lorena and some others to slip in.

The photo is Annika on the practice green, where the sign specifically says "No Chipping". One of the spectators mentioned to me that she was in violation, and I replied, "Are you gonna tell her?" Something tells me that Annika can chip from the fringe of the practice green if she wants to.
By then, it was nearly 3:30. The hat was full, my neck was red from the sun and I was getting tired and thinking about my early day on Thursday, when it starts up and the girls put on their game faces.

I had some nice conversations with my fellow golf fans, bought some cool LPGA wearables (including another hat) and had a great time hanging out. It turned out to be a much bigger day than I had expected, and it served to reinforce my opinion about what great people the girls of the LPGA are.

Thursday's first round pairings are out, and if I want to see Paula on the first tee, I'll need to be there at 8:30. She's paired with Karrie Webb and In-Kyung Kim, one of the hundreds of "Kim's" playing this weekend - or at least until Friday. Check the Golf Channel for first round coverage, running from 12:30 to 3:30 EDT. I promise not to wave at the camera while Paula is putting.

Meanwhile, here are a few more for Sparky...

Morgan Pressel and Se Ri Pak enjoying something mildly amusing on the first tee.

Paula Creamer on the first tee.

Morgan Pressel and the creepy disembodied hand.

Is it Have-re or Harv?

There is something in my makeup that keeps me from getting all worked up over plans or things that I want to do, but in this case, the weird geek in me is jumping up and down - on the inside.

I don't know if the ad on the tournament web site is guilty of hyperbole or merely stating fact, but perhaps history is a bit overstated in this case. Nevertheless, I have purchased a grounds pass for the week of June 4th to roam the historic Bulle Rock golf course in Havre deGrace, Maryland to watch the best golfers in the world (no debates, please) compete in the McDonald's LPGA Championship. I'm getting hungry. By the way, I'd like to find Havre and smack him for naming a town whose name is so difficult to say.

A week's pass cost $55, and it allows me to go to the practice round on Wednesday and any of the four days of competition. I'll be blog-posting all week, so be prepared for LPGA overload, you lucky people.

Of course, I plan on following Paula Creamer for most of the tournament, as regular readers will no doubt suspect. The decision on how to best view the tournament will probably be more difficult, since I have been spoiled by TV. It may wind up being a game-time decision, and it will probably come down to whomever is leading or paired-up with Paula on the days I decide to go.

On the bright side, it's nice to have built-in blog posts for a whole week. Having [Havreing] said all that, it may rain for four days, rendering the week's pass useless, which is precisely why I do not get overly excited about things until they actually happen.