Category Archives: Mike Time

Suing Greg Dobbs

Posted on by

Greg Dobbs launching another assault attempt

Gregory Stuart Dobbs, former Philadelphia Phillies and current Miami Marlin should keep an eye on his mailbox over the next couple of weeks.  He will undoubtedly find an unpleasant surprise awaiting him.  But before I get into that …

I am proud to announce the end of a personal drought that has run for roughly 48 years!  It began when I was about 8.  (Might have been 6.  It was a LONG time ago …)  That’s when I attended my first Philadelphia Phillies game at venerable Connie Mack Stadium!  In all those years, I had NEVER caught a batted ball during game play … or during batting practice … or even as a casual flip by a player into the stands.

You get my drift.  Never the chance to smell the processed leather scent of a new ball, to feel the slightly raised stitches or the slick whiteness of the MLB sphere.  There was a hole in life … a small hole, but nonetheless …

Connie Mack Stadium: Where it all began

It’s one of those silly things guys who like their sports, who adore the Game of Baseball, are driven to “accomplish”.  Just one of those experiences you want to check off the Minor Bucket List.  Most of us pursue our quarry willy-nilly on those occasions when we go to a ballgame and get the chance to sit in The Good Seats … in just the right place in the stadium where the fouls balls will most assuredly fall like manna from the heavens throughout the entire game.  Those of us who cherish this quest will deliberately study potential ball flight paths, homeplate proximity, and immediately calculate the odds of a catch as soon as we get to our seats.

Yes, we are a sorry breed.

My personal drought ended on a Saturday evening, June 23, 2012 in the fourth inning of a game  at Citizens Bank Park between the hometown Phils and the Tampa Bay Rays.

The Catch will forever go down in Family Lore as a diving, one-hand snag of a screaming line drive into the seats.  At least that will be the story I plan to pass down to every one of my grandchildren … eventually.  I will have to redefine the meaning of “catch” to include “gaining possession of an object that’s barely moving”.  And I might throw in a small child or grandmother saved from a possible cataclysmic head injury.

Me and my elusive quarry, finally captured

But today will be the only time the true story will be told.  But first back to my potential lawsuit against Greg Dobbs …

Since the World Championship season of 2008, we have held good ball-potential seats.  Section 135 at Citizens Bank Park, just behind third base, halfway down the left field line, 21 rows from the field.  We’ve had our share of close calls, including one in 2009 off the bat of the soon-to-be-lighter-in-the-wallet Gregory Stuart Dobbs.

In a game which has faded from memory, Mr. Dobbs assaulted us in our Section 135 seats.  His weapon was a screaming line drive foul ball.  And as soon as I saw it off the bat, I said to no one in particular, “Uh oh!”  (not one of my more eloquent observations)  The round missile was traveling at roughly the speed of sound and right at my bride’s delicate noggin.

To this day, she insists she would have caught it, had I not stuck my mitt-less mitt in front of her face.  But by my calculation, she would still be in a head cast, sipping dinner through a straw.  So I did the gentlemanly thing and knocked her out-of-the-way - gently … kinda – and bravely stuck my hand out to protect my woman … and to see if I could grab that elusive sphere, of course.  When the dust settled, the ball was in the possession of a regular Section 135 resident who sits right behind us; I had a knot the size of Placido Polanco’s head growing on my thumb; and the spousal unit was in a tiff because I ruined HER CHANCE to catch one in the teeth!

For years I have lived with the humiliation of missing that Impossible Catch, the shame of ruining Carol’s “big chance” at a Grade III concussion, and the taunts of a coworker who sits a row ahead of us on the same 17-game ticket plan.

That all ended Saturday night!

Future Hall-of-Fame shortstop, Elliot Johnson (OK, so he’s off to a slow start.) swung at a Kyle Kendrick offering as I sat next to Carol and sipped my chosen adult beverage, a Flying Fish Extra Pale Ale.  As the ball arced tightly toward the population of Section 135, I received a mental text message from that compartment of the brain in charge of Semi-Athletic Endeavors … PUT THE BEER DOWN.  As I complied, I thought “Why am I bothering?  That ball’s not getting here.”

Sure enough the ball hits three rows ahead of us and about 6 seats to our right.  I had stood up just before the ball hit flailing flesh, keenly abiding the next two intra-brain text messages … STAND UP, STUPID and LOOK FOR A REBOUND … Several people lunged for the possession prized by so many, though it means so little.  The ball got through outstretched arms and struck the back of a seat a row or two in front of us, still off to our right.

As I searched for a ricochet, I was stunned to see the ball bounding down our row; seat-back high, clanking off grabbing hands, bouncing off cowering women folk.  It struck someone or something and plopped into a seat a row in front and just to the right of my Android-distracted spousal unit.  (Later, she would insist she would have had the ball had she not been playing with her phone.  Well, at least this time she wouldn’t have needed all that dental work.)

Since I was obediently standing up already, I was in the perfect position to plunge down and grab the valueless trinket.  Yet for some reason, I waited for the next rather frantic, emotion-filled brain text that screamed GET IT, YA DOPE!!!

As I swooped down (dismiss all pre-existing concepts of what “swooping” looks like), another gentleman equidistant from the seat on the other side of Carol also lunged down and flailed at the elusive prize.  My cat-like movements (consisting of me clawing at the still bouncing ball like a large, slow-moving cat) simply knocked the ball around the seat some more, as I and my competition continued to swat and grab.  Finally, I cornered the ball and plucked it from the seat!

I rose triumphant and exhilarated!  Displaying my trophy for all The World to see, including that smart ass from work who predicted I would NEVER get my first in-game ball!  I was King of the World!

Then Kendrick threw another pitch, and I was just a middle-aged doofus making too much out of corralling a worthless, slightly used baseball.

And that leads me back to Gregory Stuart Dobbs.

I heard that Elizabeth Lloyd and her husband are suing an 11-year-old Little League player in Manchester Township, NJ for $300,000 after allegedly plunking her in the face with a baseball … that might have been traveling 10 miles an hour … while she sat completely oblivious to what was going on around her at a baseball game with pre-teens swinging metal bats and throwing rock hard objects.  I don’t really buy this - that you can hold an 11-year-old accountable for your own lack of attention - but it was inspiring on a much higher financial level!

Afterall, if Ms. Lloyd is successful, imagine what I could get from a grown man and well-paid ballplayer - Mr. Dobbs – who was ”engaging in inappropriate physical and/or sporting activity” in the presence of 45,000 people!!

In addition, I also lost the “services, society and consortium” of my wife.  This was the indisputable result of my thumb injury, which prevented me from completing my “move”, as I prefer The Pinch over The Swirl.  For weeks I was reduced to using The Knuckle.  It was HORRIBLE!  The loss was devastating, insufferable, humiliating, and completely fabricated.

But hey, get me a good lawyer, and I could make take me a fortune!

Greg Dobbs, the bell tolls for thee!

About these ads

It’s never too late to start a new career!

Posted on by

OK, maybe it is.  After you view the following YouTube versions of May’s Abington News & Views you might just end up begging me to stay where I am and leave the airwaves (cable waves?) to the obviously more photogenic and youthful.

I’m in one of those funks where writing and the ability to develop interesting subject matter has left me.  Usually I get brainstorms in the shower (Sorry for the imagery there.), but soap and warm water are not even working at this point.  Enthusiasm and inspriation usually returns eventually.  At times like this I refuse to force the issue just for the sake of writing something …

As I’m doing right now, so enjoy the peace and quiet!

That being said, if you are so inclined, take a view of my first foray into the cable TV political fisticuffs sans the fists and the cuffs.  I really enjoyed my baptism under fire, though nerves had me stammering a bit.  So far as I have heard, I have not dramatically affected the prospects of local Abington cable TV politics one way or the other, so it’s quite possible I may be invited back.

If that does happen, I endeavor to learn from my initial exposure and seek continuous improvement!

 .

Not sure why this was presented in four parts, but it makes selecting what you want to watch – or not watch – much easier.  If you do watch, I’d love to hear comments and criticisms.  Trust me I can take it … probably.

Part 1:  We discuss the qualifications of Presidential candidate Mitt Romney, the performance and prospects for re-election of President Obama, and Obamacare.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Jfwe8FhBLE&feature=youtu.be

Part 2:  Panelists address the Trayvon Martin – George Zimmerman case, and the Pennsylvania State House race in Abington’s 153rd District.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0YVTQ02Jds

Part 3:  We discuss Pennsylvania’s new Voter ID law and the love fest between the new Montgomery County Commissioners Josh Shapiro, Leslie Richards and Bruce Castor.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WEOlLMI7lzs

Part 4:  Panelists discuss Abington Township’s new law protecting LGBT rights and wrap ups with statements of individual interest.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J16hYslowlg

Joe Scarborough and Chris Matthews can rest easy!

Lights .. Camera .. Now what was I going to say?

Posted on by

The above title fairly summarizes the level of anxiety I was feeling as the lights came up and the lump in my throat refused my orders to “cease and desist” as I made my first foray into the world of taped-live political TV!  My brain refused to disengage from a memory bank containing several sweat-filled, bumbling presentations before live audiences during my school years or from time-to-time in my early work career.

Those conditions have gotten better over time and with real-life practice; yet it’s not easy to shake those nagging fears. 

Would I freeze in mid-sentence for what seemed like minutes as my speech faculty searched for a word I know I have used thousands of time before, but which is now playing hide-’n-seek with my panic-addled brain?  Would my facial expression betray a panicked state?  Would I mumble, stumble, take a tumble?

Well, it all panned out rather nicely on Tuesday night in a small, nondescript recording studio in Glenside, PA. 

The cast of characters … Hatboro Mike is second from right.

I think I avoided sounding like an incoherent babbling brook.  I did not spray spittle on camera.  I was able to keep it together.  Then again, I haven’t seen the tape yet …

You always … at least I do … look at your performance in these situations with a hyper-critical eye.  I think I was a bit too stiff; reluctant to “go for the throat” as one co-commentator did; maybe a little over-prepared … to many talking points, not enough free-thinking give ‘n take.

Oh well … This was my first exposure to this medium.  So we’ll chalk it up to a first-time experience and look to improve our stage presence!. 

Abington News and Views will air Off the Record (The title might be changed due to its use elsewhere.) Friday, May 11 at 7:00 PM EDT.

Blogger’s lament

Posted on by

Winter bleak, cold and dark;
Tho’ “Not so bad.”, Past Winters bark.
Still it saps this writer’s mood,
His efforts at sage interludes.

He sits and stares
At keyboard wanting,
Needing,
Waiting,
Anticipating.

Pressure builds.
Will readers stray?
Cannot you find
Something to say?

Hurry, the mind urges
Or they will wander
To some other place
To slake their hunger.

Resist!  No surrender
To that nagging command,
Temptation to toss them
Whatever’s at hand.

Just try something new,
That you want them to see.
Do it for you to
Dispell your ennui.

And so it occurs on a day with no spark
An effort to purge those fears that harp,
That threaten with a mild depression
Over a blockage in written expression.

California Trippin’, Part Deux: Southbound on the Pacific Coast Highway

Posted on by

Prologue:  Carol and I traveled out to sunny southern California this past September to help my brother, Pat and his wife celebrate Pat’s retirement.  In Part 1 we traveled north to Monterey to enjoy the sights and spend two glorious days hitting the links at Pebble Beach and Spyglass Hill.  Part 2 deals with the trip south which we took along the Pacific Coast Highway (Rt. 1) heading back to the Los Angeles area.

As we left the Pebble Beach Resort property, Pat took us out along the beachfront drives of Carmel Way and San Antonio Avenue.  Here lies a tightly laid out neighborhood situated on the hills off the beach with spectacular views of both the Pebble Beach property and the Pacific Ocean.  There is ready access to the beaches here, where a stroll out the front door (or just down the street) brings you to a view worthy of the envy of any land-locked easterner.  I particularly enjoyed the “neighborhood feel” of this section of Carmel, even if the neighborhood has to be one of the priciest in which to live.

As we left Carmel and the Monterey Peninsula, we headed south along the Pacific Coast Highway, to our next stop in the town of Cambria.


Random impressions and second thoughts:

Hairpin turns hemmed with dizzying drop-offs … views of the Pacific from roadways ABOVE the ocean fog … not nearly enough guard rails for my peace-of-mind … sitting in the front passenger seat heading southbound not for the faint-of-heart … incredible landslide sites = huge reconstruction efforts = Shovel-Ready Projects …

Our first stop on our southbound journey was Ragged Point, appropriately named since it’s a ragged point of land jutting out into the Pacific.  We decided to stretch our legs a bit and took a walk all the way out to the tip of the point to see the view.  The views from there are majestic.  Unfortunately we left the cameras in the car and were too lazy to trek back and get them.

Coastal landscape from next to the Bixby Bridge at Big Sur

One thing our vacations with brother, Pat seem to revolve around is food.  But I do not blame him or L.  Let’s face it, vacation time is one of the allowable excuses – along with holidays and gym workouts – where loosening one’s caloric limitations and their belts is expected.  Good food at reasonable prices in pleasant settings is crucial to the best vacations.  And in this spirit I highly recommend the chocolate chip cookies at the Ragged Point espresso bar!  

Our next stop was Elephant Seal Beach, where the elephant seals come in large numbers and sizes …

.

.

.

.

.

…  to watch the people.

It was here that I had my first encounter with a German motorcycle gang!  Really just a tour-by-motorcycle trip organized by a Las Vegas travel company.  Motorcycle touring must be HUGE in Europe, as I had never seen such a large group of foreign moto-tourists before.  It looked very well-organized with chase vehicles and a support van that provided drinks and food.  Looks like a lot of fun, assuming you can get past the saddle sores and the possibility of severe road rash.  Now back to food … For several days we were treated to numerous verbal treatise on the origins, preparation and cult-like popularity of tri-tip beef  and its super-human powers when reduced in form to a well-prepared sandwich.  All this was intended to set up what our gracious hosts treated like a pilgrimage … a trip to the Main Street Grill in Cambria, CA.  The restaurant is not particularly impressive at first sight, like a McDonalds-on-steroids, but with ample TV placements that render the atmosphere favorable to watching weekend football with the guys.  Bar service is available.  The food is very good at reasonable prices.  The tri-tip sandwich was admittedly quite delicious, tender and worthy of encore.  The salads are HUGE and also very good, as are the pork ribs I had several days later when we made our mandatory farewell homage.

Guy on left works the counter at Main St. Grill!

Two things they really need there are some good Amoroso rolls, which any Philadelphian will tell you improves any sandwich, and perhaps a refresher course on customer service.  (Would you like addy-tude with those fries?)  Still a great place for a well-portioned, delicious meal that’s not too rough on the wallet.

Our carefully developed travel plans had us enjoying several days in Cambria, a small touristy town located along Rt 1 (PCH).  We stayed at the The Fogcatcher Inn with comfortable rooms and – of course – an excellent complimentary breakfast arrangement, including make-it-yourself waffles and excellent coffee!  The Fogcather is located in an area known as Moonstone Beach, whose beach is located just across Moonstone Beach Drive.  The beach area is accessible here; and there is a well-maintained boardwalk that traverses the beachside hills with scenic views in both directions.

Just a few things you will experience … Cute, mooching little brown squirrels … Silly, short-sighted humans feeding the critters POTATO CHIPS! … Native American remnants in the form of rock drillings (cup-shaped depressions in the rock) where grains and corn were ground into meal (These take some searching to find, but they are in plain sight.) … Playful otters “honeymooning” in the surf … (Those with children should be prepared with their tactful explanations of blatant otter porn.) … No cell phone reception except for a spot about 25 feet long by 3 feet wide (and quite a bit harder to pinpoint than evidence of Native American culture) … Technology-dependent humans shuffling back and forth across Moonbeach Drive in search of a signal …

View from Moonstone Beach, Cambria towards San Simeon

Have I mentioned the food?
Our second day in Cambria - which was filled with artsy, tourist activities - was dinner at the Moonstone Beach Bar & Grill.  The Moonstone is a family-owned establishment located across Moonstone Beach Drive from the ocean.  It offers both indoor and al fresco dining.  We chose to sit outdoors on a seasonable September evening; and it was the perfect choice.  The evening was a perfect combination of atmosphere, delightful food, great service and beautiful ocean scenery.  I enjoyed the sea scallops with citrus honey glaze, Carol the grilled salmon with salsa fresca.  The clam chowder was also a big hit.  Definitely the place for dinner in Cambria!

Sunset at Moonstone Bar & Grill

No foodie tour would be complete without recommendations for desert!  And although the Moonstone Beach B&G had some delightful offerings, I would be remiss if I did not plug Linn’s of Cambria.  Linn’s is also a family-owned enterprise that – from the number of locations in Cambria alone – is immensely popular with the local folk and visitors.  Our hosts insisted on taking us out to Linn’s Original Farmstore located in an isolated area of hills outside the town.  It was well worth the trip!

If you get the chance, check out the Linn’s story provided as a link on their website.  It’s an inspiring story of a couple’s relentless pursuit of their dream, living on a farm where financial challenges required an imaginative solution which eventually led to an extremely successful venture.  The Linn’s are credited with the development of the ollalieberry, a cross between blackberry and raspberry.

The store offers a wide variety of fruit products, jams, jellies, and their signature pies.  (An on-line catalogue is also available.)  I tried a personal-sized ollalieberry pie and enjoyed every bite!  Well worth the effort to seek out their back road locale.  Just watch out for that intrusive peacock!

That’s all for now.  I’m off to have the rest of these pants let out …

Some additional photos in no particular order:

Master of his domain

Note the paddle board surfers to either side of the middle rock outcropping (below).

Spyglass Hill: Pebble Beach’s better half?

Posted on by

When you get the chance to play golf at Pebble Beach, you play there for the incredible scenery, for the amazing golf holes, and for the historic golf moments that have occurred there.  But once you have played the headline course, another great golf opportunity awaits at Spyglass Hill (SGH)!

Pebble Beach, especially the first time you play it, can be ”golf overload” for many a golfer for the reasons cited above. (Trust me on that one!)  On the other hand, Spyglass Hill tends to be a more relaxing, golf-enjoyable day.  SGH offers a limited amount of the spectacular ocean scenery found at Pebble.  The visual background is nowhere near as dramatic; and once you get past the first five holes at SGH, you lose all view of the ocean.  Playing Spyglass is simply a more traditional, picture-perfect, immaculately manicured day of golf.

So the day after I almost choked over Pebble Beach, my brother and I set off for Round 2 at Spyglass Hill.  The weather started out very similar to the previous day at PB … cool, foggy, damp.  As we hit balls at the practice tee, the ocean layer fog and mist condensed on the trees overhead and dripped down like rain.  As the day progressed the fog eased.  Though there was little sun, the day was comfortable, dry, almost perfect.

We met our caddy, Doug on the first tee and were paired with two of the friendliest golfers, Pete and Tom; two gentlemen who maintained my perfect record of NEVER being paired with a jerk on a golf course!  Pete’s wife, Joanne, was our fifth and the groups’ unofficial photographer.  Yet another first … someone who walked through 18 holes of golf simply for the scenery and photo ops!

Your first impression of Spyglass Hill is how lush and wooded it is in contrast to the wide open ocean landscapes of its more famous neighbor.  The lushness of the course makes for better overall golf conditions.  At times Pebble suffers from the effects of too much sun and not enough rain.  When we played there, some Pebble Beach fairways had recently gone through hair-plug-type treatments to remedy “pattern baldness” caused by a hot, dry summer.  No such issues were found at Spyglass.

Fairway on par 5 #1 (Treasure Island) at SGH (Photo: J.Jarocewicz)

The first five holes at SGH are the most dramatic – scenery wise – on the circuit, with panoramic views of lush forest green against sandy waste areas and the ocean beyond.  After #5 the course moves inland and upwards into the Del Monte Forest.  It’s easy to see how Spyglass differs from Pebble in these first 5 holes.

Looking down #2 (Billy Bones) from the green.

#2 is a short (349 yards) uphill par 4 that requires precision to avoid trouble surrounding the fairway.  Once you get the green at #2, you get your first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean – Spyglass style, which is less dramatic than Pebble but just as beautiful.  The tee shot for the par 3 - 3rd hole (The Black Spot) is one of two Par 3s (#3 & #5) at Spyglass that play directly towards the ocean, although the Pacific is not in play on either hole.

Spyglass Hill was designed by Robert Trent Jones in the 1960s; and the 345-yard (from the whites) par-4 fourth hole (Blind Pew) is said to have been his favorite.  And it’s easy to see why.  The hole is neither long or treacherous; but the green is unique and requires precision to set up and execute the best approach.  The green is an estimated 20 feet wide on the back-end, and is as narrow as 8-10 feet on the front side.  But the green is also about 60-75 feet long!  The green quite literally snakes between several dunes and hillocks.  So not only is it an easy green to miss; if you hit it in the wrong spot, you could be looking at a meandering, incredibly long putt, assuming you even have line-of-sight to the hole.  This was easily my favorite hole as it played that day with the hole at the green’s narrowest spot – the front.  Caddy Doug made his first “stroke saving” contribution here by coaching me through a delicate and tricky chip shot that had to land well off the green to stay on the green!

The back – or “wide” – end of 4th green at Spyglass. Note the thinner lower end trails off to left. (Photo: J.Jarocewicz)

I hit one of my more memorable shots to the green at the par-3 #5 (Bird Rock) after chunking my tee shot into the sandy waste area short and left.  Caddy Doug, talked me into an almost effortless recovery shot that resulted in a much appreciated - in light of my tee shot –  bogey 4.

Spyglass Hill #5 (Bird Rock)

Part of my enjoyment for our round at Spyglass Hill was the fact that I was playing very well from the tees with driver in hand.  Out of 14 holes requiring driver or 3-wood off the tee, I hit 12 fairways; and one of those was a technical near-miss.  With woods all around, you need to be straight off the tees or frustration will reign!  My brother, Pat struggled a bit with his golf demon – the snap hook; but for the most part he was able to keep up with me.  Caddy Doug kept our heads in the game – especially on the back nine – by constantly hustling to position himself as a mid-fairway lawn-jockey-type target.  I took some pride in almost plunking him several times as he had dared us to try!

Many approach shots (more my undoing than those off the tees) have one – if not more – challenging aspects, be they an overabundance of sand or sentry duty performed by perniciously placed ponds.  That being said, I lost but a single ball to “water envelopment”, which for me was a nice accomplishment!  The greens are not full of the crazy, sea-driven breaks and bends found at Pebble Beach; but they present enough of a challenge that investing in a caddy can make a difference.  With that in mind, I highly recommend the services of our caddy, Douglas Allen Miller (dmiller52@live.com) should you go to either Pebble or Spyglass.  Doug is a real hustler; a great source of course information; and works hard to keep your head in the game.  His only drawback is that he’s a stinkin’ Yankees fan!

The gallery on #13 grazes on Pat’s pitch-in birdie!

Other golf highlights of the day were my stiff approach to the flag on the number one handicap hole, the par-4 #8 (Signal Hill), though I missed the par putt.  And brother, Pat thrilled the gallery (left) with a pitch-in birdie on #13 (Tom Morgan).

The deer population is a cute diversion from the “pressures” of golf at Spyglass.  The wildlife is neither frightened or especially put off their feeding by the presence of humans with their long shiny golf weapons.  It is possible to get quite close to the deer; if you take it slow and easy.  They are wary, but obviously used to humans playing stupid games in their midst!  They’ll let you know when you get too close by simply moving away.

The last real drama of the day occurred at another par 3, the 15th (Jim Hawkins).  The shortest hole at Spyglass; it plays to just 98 yards and downhill at that.  (See Pat’s picture above for a look at the shot to #15.)  I was hitting fourth in recognition of my superb snowman on the previous hole.  One of our partners, Tom, preceded me and promptly stuck the ball two feet from the hole; spun it back directly over the hole; ending up about 8 feet below the flag.  I followed that near ace by chosing my trusty 9-iron and stuck my tee shot just two feet past Bill’s quite visible ball mark on the green; but my ball simply trickled down the slope towards the hole, ending up; 4 feet from the hole.  And of course, I missed the birdie putt!

From there on out, and aside from pars by both Pat and I at the 17th (Ben Gunn), our Pebble Beach and Spyglass Hill experiences were coming to an end.  All kidding aside, Patrick played better than me both times; posting a 97 at SGH that included two pars to go along with his stunning pitch-in birdie on #13. Overall, I loved playing both courses.  Who wouldn’t?!?  But the experience at each course is quite different from the other.  Pebble is a must-do for any golfer who prizes the ultra golf experiences that come only at the sport’s premiere venues.  Spyglass Hill however, is simply golf at its purest, without the thrills and chills of crazy, sea-cliff golf.  Play Pebble Beach because you must.  Play Spyglass Hill simply because you LOVE golf!

More pics from Spyglass Hill:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

California trippin’: Headin’ North

Posted on by

Prologue:  We started our first California excursion in 9 years with a flight from Philly to LA with a stop in Denver.  If you never had the experience of flying into Denver, you should try it once.  The turbulence on approach, caused by winds coming off the Rockies, will give you several opportunities to re-examine your religious faith and fire off a quick Act of Contrition (assuming you are Catholic)!  But other than losing in Scrabble to my better half on the plane and being constantly ridiculed for losing tiny plastic travel Scrabble letters due to fat-finger-itis, it was an uneventful flight.

The objective of our trip was to help my brother, Pat celebrate his retirement.  Pat’s spousal unit would be our hostess and co-guide throughout our excursions, which would include a jaunt up north to the Monterey Peninsula to play two rounds of golf at the Pebble Beach Resort, followed by a leisurely drive south along the Pacific Coast Highway.

Day One:  Sunday … Woke up in the Shirley Temple Room.  ’Twas a delightful repose!  But I can’t get used to rolling out of bed at the civilized of hour of 9:30 PDT (Suffering from reverse jet lag!) to find out I have only 30 minutes until the Eagles game comes on!  Sweet mother of Chuck Bednarik!  I barely get a toe-hold on my caffeine intake and I’m supposed to be pumped up for game time!?!  Who lives like this?!?

Day Two:  Monday … Up at oh-it’s-still-dark hundred hours (a repeating theme throughout the trip), but frankly you have to be up early to beat the LA morning rush-hour traffic, which was already extremely heavy going into the city at 6:30 as we headed out.  Can’t imagine what that looks like at 8:00!

As we head out of the city, the scenery begins to change.

Hills everywhere … houses perched on ridges, homes hanging from steep hillsides … hills in dry, brittle browns spotted with squat green trees … steep vertical slopes rising rapidly from winding roadways …

Quaint Danish architecture

We stop in a neat little village called Solvang, which touts itself as the Danish Capital of America.  Founded in 1911 by a group of Danish teachers looking to escape midwestern winters, the town sits in the Santa Ynez Valley and consists of shoppes, bakeries and restaurants, many in buildings of bright, colorful Danish design.

Ate breakfast at Paula’s Pancake House.  Great coffee … Have the Danish pancakes, they are fantastic … the size of dinner plates but thin, light and delicious!
 
Did the touristy thing for a while, then climbed back into the car for the sprint up Rt 101 to Carmel.  Our plan was to hit the Monterey Peninsula quickly, and enjoy the coastal sights on the return trip south.

obligatory Danish windmill

 
And so we made our sprint northward  …
 
Vineyards … everywhere vineyards … signs labeling types of wine made from specific grapes … farm country … dry, barren hills give way to green cultivated fields set on valley floors …  fields of produce worked by bent figures and large machinery … trucks full of lettuce, a trailer filled with butternut squash … dust clouds rising from fallow fields being prepped for planting off in the distance …
 
The number of vineyards is perhaps the biggest change I noticed from our last visit almost a decade ago.  In addition to the acres and acres of vines, you must – of course – have hundreds of outlets for wines.  And so it appears that the state’s official past time is now Wine Tastings!   
 
As we approach  Carmel, an ominous sign … a thick ocean layer blocks out the sun along wide swaths of the nearby coast. 
 
We get into Carmel, which is situated just south of the Monterey Peninsula, at mid-afternoon and check in at the Mission Ranch Resort, which was preserved and renovated by Clint Eastwood – actor, director and Carmel’s former mayor.  The resort is absolutely gorgeous, ten buildings in rustic design with incredible views of Point Lobos, the Carmel River and the Pacific.  You can enjoy these views from the restaurant and expansive patio (great for late afternoon cocktails) that overlook a large meadow complete with its own herd of grazing, well-mannered sheep.  
 

View from near the Mission Ranch restaurant patio

 Dinner at the restaurant that night was excellent!  I wouldn’t necessarily recommend the duck, but everyone clearly enjoyed their meals.  The service was excellent; the drinks strong; the atmosphere cozy, relaxed and pleasant.
 
One very nice amenity at Mission Ranch is the complimentary breakfast, served in the tennis court clubhouse.  Nothing fancy, just good, basic continental breakfast fare.
 
Day Three:  A Tuesday …  Played Pebble Beach!  (Click the link for a detailed description of that golf experience!) What a day!  We were reprimanded for wearing our hats inside The Tap Room, the renown post-round watering hole that sits less than 100 yards from the 1st tee.  Although the ambiance is impressive, the food was not much better than your average 19th hole found anywhere.  I hear the chili is very good, but I’m not a chili guy.  

Carol (left) enjoying the atmosphere at Pebble Beach Lodge

 
Day Four:  Wednesday … Played Spyglass Hill … another amazing golf experience!  If you ever go, you HAVE to play Pebble Beach for the history, scenic beauty and extraordinary golf holes.  But the best golf course – condition wise, for playability, and for the average golfer – is Spyglass Hill!  (A later post will be dedicated to playing Spyglass. And will be linked here once available.)
 
Formal Carmel canine presentation to Lady Lorri Ellen
 
Meanwhile, the women folk spent the day shopping, having lunch and enjoying a splendid afternoon in Carmel, where they were greeted by from a local canine representative (right).
 
That evening we drove up to the town of Monterey (situated north of the peninsula) for dinner and general touristy activity.  Cannery Row is your typical tourist magnet, dollar sucking locale; but every travelers’ haven has one.  We ate at an unremarkable sports bar-type establishment after we had hit the Pebble Beach (discount) store, which is a great place to find PB clothing bargains once you have recovered from the sticker shock of shopping at the Pebble Beach pro shop.
 
Day Five:  You guessed it … Thursday!  Our Pebble Beach experience 
Pat’s too sexy for his car; Too sexy for his car; Too sexy by far …

was coming to a close … until the someone brought up the Lexus freebie!  Apparently, if you stay at the PBR, you get a free excursion in one of their available Lexus automobiles.  And since it was a cool,  50-degree overcast day along the windy peninsula coast we opted – of course – for the sporty Lexus convertible coupe! 

So we took a leisurely joyride around the most scenic parts of the 17-mile drive.  It becomes obvious pretty quickly that the Monterey Peninsula must have the highest golf course-per-capita rating in the U.S.!  But it’s the ocean scenery and dramatic sea cliff topography that makes the area truly unforgettable. 

 
Rocky, forbidding beachfront … roiling surf … waves crashing over partially submerged rock formations … placid tides choked with clumps of kelp … trees bent permanently landward by ocean winds … beautiful homes perched on open hillsides … others hidden by steep drops and dense woods … spectacular ocean landscapes framed by a softening fog …   
 

Rocky shoreline along 17-mile drive

It wasn’t the best day for amateur photog work, unless you like barren, rocky sea beauty cloaked in fog.  As you wander along the drive there are ample opportunities for picture-taking or just staring at the kind of scenes you do not have on the east coast south of New England.   

The iconic symbol of Pebble Beach

 
Eventually we came upon the iconic symbol of Pebble Beach, the Lone Cypress well-preserved on a treacherous-looking outcropping of rock jutting out into the forbidding sea.  It serves as the symbol of Pebble Beach Quality, so it says on the corporate-looking signs posted at the entrance to its viewing area.  The fact that the tree is basically held together with anchored cables and duct tape – you would think – might suggest they find another symbol of Quality.  Just sayin’ …
 
Once we were finished with that Lexus POS, it was time to hi-tail it off the peninsula and return to our mundane daily lives.  But along our meander down the Pacific Coast Highway, we would spend a few relaxing days in Cambria, which will be the subject of our next California post!  
 
But I would be negligent not to recommend that, on your way out of the Pebble Beach area, you should take a leisurely drive south along Carmel Way.  Unique homes in a neighborhood setting and beautiful ocean views are plentiful there.  It is a bit disingenuous to refer to most areas of Pebble Beach and the 17-mile drive as “neighborhoods”, but Carmel Way has a different, more homey feel to it even if you’re just drivin’ through.     
 
For now I’ll leave you with a few additional pictures.  
 

Sheeples with demonic eyes in the Mission Ranch meadow

More stark beauty from the Monterey Peninsula

 

More traditional California beauty (Happy Anniversary, Hon!!)

Brownie points! 
 

Teaser photo for a later post on playing Spyglass Hill

Choking down a day at Pebble Beach

Posted on by
Literally, I was choking down my Pebble Beach experience.  My big chance to play one of the iconic golf courses in the country and the sport, and an hour-and-a-half before our tee-time my Anxiety-O-Meter was shutting down my internal organs!  I had NEVER felt like this before playing a round of golf.  As much as I tried to relax; to take in the surroundings; to enjoy my Eggs Benedict, I was very, very close to a Critical Mass Event! 
 
There were several possible reasons.
  • We had left Mission Ranch, where we had stayed the night before with the woman folk, at 0-it’s-still-so-freakin’-dark hundred hours, so it felt like we were sneaking onto the most famous golf resort in America like a pair of illegals.  I half expected the immaculately uniformed attendants and valets to lay hands upon us and eject us from the premises! 
  • Everything about this place is intimidating when you allow the mystique of Pebble Beach and the potential heights of its golf experience to get a stranglehold on your emotions.
  • And of course, every golfer can appreciate the phenomena of First Tee Jitters.  Now just multiply that by several orders of magnitude and suddenly those Eggs Benedict are like trying to swallow a chunk of fairway turf.  My biggest fear was cleaving a foot-sized divot from the first tee and seeing my golf ball mocking me from its perch, untouched by my TaylorMade!

Yes, that would explain a lot!  But eventually it passed, though I’m not sure exactly when or how.  After a ride out to the range and a bucket of balls, it was time to face the legacy of Pebble Beach and those golf legends that had played there before us. 

Of course I had to make a few adjustments to my golf-playing expectations, given my surroundings, the difficulty of some of the holes we would play, and the fact that I was still battling the flight side of my fight-or-flight survival instincts.

  1. I knew – or at least expected – that unless I morphed into my Tiger Woods PGA Tour video game icon, the quality of my golf game was going to be a distant second to the overall aura of playing Pebble Beach. 
  2. I was going to enjoy the atmosphere, scenery and uniqueness of what could be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, regardless of how well or poorly I played. 
  3. I wasn’t about to permit the demons of my sporadic golf game to ruin such a monumental day!  But – may Johnny Miller forgive me - if I did chunk up a big piece of Pebble Beach fairway, it might just be ground-under-repair for a few months; because THAT hunk of turf would be heading back East with me if I had to wear it as a hair hat the rest of the trip! 

And then we were on the first tee!  I think that the overload of panic I felt earlier that morning somehow mitigated the horrendous crush of first-tee jitters I had anticipated.  The first tee area wasn’t nearly as crowded as I had anticipated for our 9:00 a.m. tee time, which I’m sure helped.  And all the ancillary distractions of meeting our caddy, Josh (another first for me!), our playing partners, and even the relatively tame layout of the first hole allowed me to swing my driver without hurting anyone.

Of course, that dreaded high fade didn’t help.  But I wasn’t the only one who needed to hit a provisional ball off the 1st tee.  The second drive was much better; and I played the first two holes pretty well, including a bogie on the par 5 #2 hole.  On Hole #3 you get your first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean.  It’s just a teaser for what’s to follow; but it’s enough to make your putter take notice!

First glimpse of ocean at #3

At #4 my dastardly fade cost me my first ball on the first true ocean hole.  (I would only lose 6-8 for the day, which was far better than I expected!)  Then the REAL FUN began.  #5 is a par 3 that runs along the ocean cliffs; and I didn’t play that hole too badly, given the difficulty of finding my pulled tee shot after it bounded down the cart path.  My brother, Pat, deposited his tee shot off a tree and into what was purportedly Charles Schwab’s backyard!

Little bro, Pat putting on #4

Holes #6, 7 and 8 are three of the most beautiful holes in golf.  And I would say that #8 is indeed one of the greatest holes I’ve ever played! 

The second shot up the hill to the second fairway and green of #6 is the first of those grip-grinding moments you face at Pebble, at least if you’re a short hitter like me and it looks like you have to clear a 8-story building to reach the upper portion of the fairway.  You have to marvel at those strong and brave enough to play right-to-left over the most dangerous portion of the sea cliff. 

The par 3 #7 was the setting for my closest encounter with Pebble Beach greatness!  #7 is not particularly long at 106 yards; but the backdrop gives you much pause.  Golf jail here is in the form of a high, steep ocean cliff surrounding the green.  No one in our foursome found the green most likely due to an overabundance of caution.  Once I travelled down to the putting surface, I found my tee shot in the green-side bunker left of the pin.  In a classic “ugly but effective” moment, my semi-crisp sandwedge barely cleared the lip; was slowed by the thick grass lining the top of the trap; and tracked right at the hole.  (My cinematographer has the video evidence!)  Despite shouts of encouragement (“It’s right at the hole!”), the ball struck the edge of the cup and rolled away.  Of course I missed the comeback putt, but that couldn’t diminish the thrill of almost holing out from the sand of #7!

My "almost" sand shot position can be seen just pin high in the sand!

When we arrived on the tee of #8, Josh – our caddy for the day, warned us not to hit anything further than 200 yards off the tee.  His advice was timely given the amazing challenge awaiting us.  All four of us hit perfect tee shots to within 20 feet of the edge of the fairway, only to look down at one of the most awe-inspiring approach shots in golf.

The approach shot on the magnificent #8 at Pebble Beach

Two balls later, I had just missed clearing the yawning sea chasm.  My playing partners were more successful; but that was the kind of day it was for me.  Regardless, I was pumped at having played the kind of golf shot I might never see again!  The fascinating part of #8 is that there is no protection whatsoever – aside from politely placed signs warning of a steep drop – to keep an unsuspecting golfer (as difficult as that might be to imagine) from taking a slip ‘n slide dive into the most hazardous hazard known to the sport!   

The above photo and those following show the dramatic changes in fog conditions we encountered resulting from the cool ocean layer.  Shortly before playing #8 in bright, clear sunshine, this was the view down #6 (below).  The fairway lies just left of the bunkers.

The fog was a minor nuisance.  But it did curtail the number of dramatic photo-ops we encountered, especially on those holes along the cliffs and lower shoreline (#17 & 18). 

Infamous #18 along the beach from the green

 

 

 

 

This is what #18 looked like from the green down the fairway (left). You can make out the well-known seawall and sand trap that line the craggy shoreline that is death for any stray shots.  Off in the distance you can see the form of the two trees that mark the aiming point for drives off the tee.  My lone disappointment was not being able to appreciate the full incredible vista of #18 from the tee box. 

It was just that kind of day on the Monterey peninsula!

The rest of our round from #10 through #16 – though devoid of spectacular vistas – was full of excellent golf holes and mind-boggling putts.  My one recommendation for anyone looking to experience Pebble Beach (or Spyglass Hill which will be posted later) is to spend the extra cash and arrange for a caddy to accompany you.  You cannot ride a cart up to your ball at Pebble as carts are always restricted to the cart paths; so the caddy (hauling both our bags) is advisable for getting the most out of your round. 

In addition, the putts alone on some of the greens REQUIRE an experienced guide.  I could have easily 4 or 5-putted a number of greens without the assistance of Josh.  The first few times your caddy tries to give a read on some of the greens, your brain won’t allow you to follow his advice.  Your mind simply can’t overcome the difference between what the eye sees and what you’re being told to do.  After just one or two bad misses though, you learn to listen to your caddy and tell your brain to shut up, sit down, and enjoy the ride!  

On #14, which we were told is shaved like cue ball for tournaments, I faced what looked like a severe uphill 20-foot putt.  Not so fast, counseled Josh.  It’s actually a DOWN HILL putt!  (Putting so near the ocean turns everything upside down.  Downhill can be ”up”; and uphill “down” depending on your orientation to the sea.  The physics of which I cannot comprehend!)  Josh points to a spot barely 3-4 feet away from my ball and a good 8 feet - directionally – AWAY from the flag!  “Trust me.”, he says.  “Hit it here and gravity will do the rest!”  So I hit it where I’m told, then watch in disbelief as the putt breaks not once, not twice, but three times as the ball meanders UP the 8-inch slope.  The putt finishing just inches away from the hole!

Trust me, take a caddy! 

Quest for PERFECTION

Posted on by

Perhaps it’s the time of year, maybe it’s the time of man; but baby, there are times when I feel all of my age and then some!  Of course watching prime time TV does little to assuage my anguish.

ED-living-with-matching-bathtubs … High triglycerides?!?  Where’s my Lovasa? …  Are you feeling a bit Low-T there, fella?!?  …  High cholesterol?  …  Maybe you just need to color that hair!  

Reality dictates that it’s just a natural part of the process  …  That vague awareness that some physical tasks used to be easier to perform  …  The sometimes achy process of unfolding yourself from that a-little-too-comfy spot on the couch …  

Fahgettaboutit!, your Psyche says.  You’ll get over it.  You’ll rebound.  Just drop a few pounds; get back to the gym; remember how well you felt when you worked your program?  Of course I told you to keep working.  I told you not to take the easy way out.  I told you that summertime wasn’t a reason to skip the early morning gym sessions.  I told you not to …. 

Enough with the GUILT already!!  It’s already depressing to think that so much work has to go into wringing every possible ounce of utility out of this  aging machine.  Do I really need to be reminded of all the woulda, coulda, shouldas?!?

Certainly, having my younger brother around the last two weeks ain’t helping!  Only two years younger, he can crank a golf ball much, much farther than I with a ridiculous ability to coil and uncoil it makes my back hurt just watching.  And he claims he’s not coloring HIS hair … Pffttt … To top it off, HE retired this year!  Ugh …

Time to rededicate!  Recalibrate … Inculcate … Without so much as a whisper to remonstrate …

Only this time take it seriously!  Treat it like a life decision, not a life sentence!  Only of course it is a sentence without parole … For to stop, to let up, to take even a little time off …

Insidious is this sense of doom!!  This feeling of impinging gloom … How does anyone keep up the struggle, when all I want are naps to juggle?!?

Nattering nabobs of negativity; Cease betraying my need for alacrity!  Just get me over this imposing ridge!  Or geez, just get my eyes off the ‘fridge!