Up early (what else is new), ready to play nine at Chastain before sunrise, with the hint of cool Fall weather calling me out to shoot the early morning, back nine course record at my neighborhood golf course. If things go well this morning, I was thinking of slipping over to East Lake, the home course of the legendary Atlanta golfer Bobby Jones, this afternoon and without great fanfare becoming the 31st golfer in the prestigious Tour Championship, which wraps up today and is preparing to dish out a cool $10 million, I kid you not, to the winner of the season long Fedex Cup.
Though it might be a little awkward being player 31 when everyone is paired up in twosomes, I figured I might go undetected, put a nice 62 or 63 on the Board, and before the officials could figure out what was going on, they might have my name on one of those inflated, oversized checks they sometimes hand out on TV. I’d quickly run it into my local Suntrust, perhaps one in a Publix’s supermarket open on Sunday, where I could quietly meld in with all the Moms buying next week’s groceries and I have this huge cardboard check containing a one and seven beautiful zeros under my arm or over my head, pass quietly through the automatic doors, grab a grocery cart and get that young bank teller who used to work at UBS London (rogue banker story in the news this week) who now works Sunday’s at Suntrust, to fork over the 10 million and stack in my cart like cases of Bud Light.
On the way out, I’d buy groceries for the whole store, give the Publix attendant a huge tip even though no tipping is allowed to help me get the cash in my trunk where it would sit next to my still grass-stained golf clubs, and I’d hightail it back to my house just in time to watch the Falcons kick some butt in Tampa Bay at 4pm.
So at 6:35am, that is my plan for the day. What are you up to?
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