Story Time: Drunk Golfing is the Best Golfing

Sometimes you just need a drink at 8am.  Sometimes that drink is at a golf course club house with your work acquaintances and a hot bartender who is going to feed you vodka like water all day.  Sometimes you’re a hot mess.

I’ve learned a lot of morals in my 25 years.  Things like; don’t swim after a fin in the ocean because you think it’s a dolphin that you want to name Cornelius and become friends with.  Or don’t go out on a rooftop in NY in January when you’re drunk and its covered in ice.  Or most importantly; don’t talk to someone dressed as a nun with no legs playing electronic ‘Wheel of Fortune’ games in a New York City hotel lobby.  I suppose those are stories for other times.  In this story the moral was……..well how about I just tell the story and then we can figure out the moral together.  It will be like a team building exercise.

The company I was working for had a golfing event in Rochester, NY which was about an hour or so from Syracuse where I was living.  I will use code names as to protect everyone’s identity.  I drove out with my co workers, Dom and Queen Beatrice.  Dom was the Dirty Old Man of the group, hence my name for him.  You know this guy, we all know this guy; the old guy who is the most helpful person you know, but also has the most dirty jokes.  We all love this guy.  And I don’t feel the need to explain Queen Beatrice, mainly because I’m not 100% sure where I got it from.  We were playing in foursomes and our fourth was already there.  We’ll call him Babaloo.

We were early for our 9am tee time and walked into the club.  The bartender was just walking in and Dom was the first to break the ice.  “Welp, it’s almost 9.  Get me a scotch.”  Once he had ordered I knew I had to represent for the non AARP card holding members of the group so I ordered myself a vodka tonic.  The bartender was young, hot and serving me vodka.  The only thing that can be assumed from this point on is that I was going to be in intoxicatingly intoxicated trouble.  Say that 5 times fast…while intoxicated.

We had a phenomenal time golfing.  I hit things, I drank, I tanned, I flirted with my boss; it was a superb day.  After the first 9 holes we were all getting loose.  And by loose, I mean me and Babaloo were pulling 360’s down hills in our golf cart.  Throughout the day we indulged from the lovely little man driving around the course with adult beverages and stopping back to the club house to see my shot serving boyfriend.  Then it happened.  The tipping point came.  If I drink all day at a steady pace; I’m an all star, no worries.  But all of that went out the window when I met my match: The Travel Mug.  Queen Beatrice had brought vodka and cranberry juice to make our own cocktails on the course because we’re classy bitches like that.  She had decided to call it a day, knowing she had to drive us home that night.  So she offered me what was left, saying it wasn’t much.  She handed me the travel mug.  I assumed it was the pre-mixed cocktail and figured I’d just slam what was left.  I was parched and didn’t want it to get warm, ok?  What happened next was a series of Darth Vader breaths mixed with squeaking and severe eye watering.  I had just gulped down roughly 3 shots of straight vodka.  Oops.

After Queen Beatrice picked her jaw off the fairway she told me that was straight vodka. I thanked her for warning me by tipping over and falling directly on my ass.  After the game wrapped up we headed to the club house for a complimentary buffet dinner where they had give aways and speeches…I think.  The dinner portion of the evening is a little foggy.  I do remember heading to the bar to see boy toy bartender and do shots with Dom.  As cute bartender poured more lemon drops for me and shots of Jameson for Dom, I could feel my balance, speech and chance of keeping my job after this weekend all slipping away.  But I hung in there.  I’m Princess Champion, damn it.  (By the way, I did end up keeping my job.  I think it’s my lovable charm that saved me once again.) With Dom being the oldest on the team in the state and me being the youngest; it only made sense that we were the group’s alcoholics.  Once they stopped eating “dinner” and I stopped eating ice cubes and limes at the bottom of my cocktails we had to head home.  My sexy drink retriever gave me his number and I left with Dom and Queen Beatrice.  It took me a solid 20 minutes to remember we were in Rochester and had a drive home ahead of us.  Then it also hit me that I live an hour away from bar boy.  Yelping, “What city are we in?!” was my subtle way of figuring this out.  Needless to say; bartender’s napkin phone number went out the window.  The drive home would prove to be my kryptonite.  There was far too much vodka swishing around in my tum tum with far too much nothing else.  Every time we hit a speed bump it sounded like a water jug when it bubbles after pouring yourself a cup.  I believe I made Queen Beatrice stop at one point for something…or something.  Then I also believe that I got rid of the only thing in my system; vodka.  I did this by throwing up in case you couldn’t figure that out.  It was basically like someone spitting up water after they’ve drowned.  I bet Queen Beatrice was pretty happy I opted for a liquid dinner at this point.  I’m not typically a ‘sicky’ when I drink.  So this came as a surprise to me.  So now when I drink on a golf course for 10 hours I tend to avoid long car rides immediately following.  I’m not stupid.

When we got to my apartment I had one last task I would be faced with.  I had to get my golf clubs up the stairs to my 2nd level apartment.  I convinced Queen Beatrice I’d be fine on my own.  I can be very persuasive, although also very wrong.  I got on the first step and immediately was dragged backwards by the clubs and fell, once again, directly on my ass.  Attempt two looked painfully similar.  This wasn’t going to work.  But I’m a thinker; an idea woman.  So, I took out each and every club and carried them upstairs separately and the bag also.  It took roughly 6 trips and 30 minutes but, ahoy!  I made it!  It was so exciting that I’m using the word ahoy!  It was still only about 10pm at this point and I was supposed to attend a surprise party.  I decided to take a quick power nap on the couch and then make someone come get my drunk ass and take me to the party.  This power nap of course turned in to me sleeping until around 2:30am and being woken up by my roommate when she got home from work.  I was confused, I was thirsty and I had 16 missed calls / texts, give or take, asking where I was.  I had to respond before drifting back off to dreamland and wasn’t really sure what to say.  But decided honesty was the best policy.  “Sorry I missed your party.  I was drunk golfing in Rochester for the past 10 hours and then passed out.  I understand if you want to find better friends.  Love, Amy.”

So I guess there are a few morals I could take away. I’ll tell you what my biggest moral take away was. I’ll also let you in on the real “kicker” of the night. Remember my struggle to get the golf clubs upstairs? My moral of the story is to always, always make sure you walk around the corner…………..

to the elevator.

I think I failed life.

WPS Champs Are The New Kids in Town

Yesterday’s final of Western New York Flash against Philadelphia Independence was one crazy ride for the championship in Women’s Professional Soccer. Each side battled right down to the very last of 5 penalty kicks they each had to go through. For those of you who didn’t watch or would like to revisit the match I will give an in depth rundown before getting to my point.

WNY Flash won.

Ok, now onto my point. Wait, I feel like I left some things out. Let me back track a little. The game was a hard fought battle in the mid field from beginning to end. I really can’t give enough praise to Brittany Bock. Each side’s midfield was playing a strong game, but she was just everywhere. She’s Notre Dame alumni and let me tell you, she is one of the ‘fighting Irish’ I would never want to fight. She was like a Fighting Irish ninja who drank too much Red Bull; she was everywhere! In a game with such huge goal scoring forwards such as Christine Sinclair, Alex Morgan, Marta, Amy Rodriguez and Tasha Kai it was surprisingly low scoring and battled in the midfield. Bock played a major part in their win and shined every second of that game. You take Bock and her superb work in the midfield out of that game and I see a very different result. I absolutely love a hard fought game in the midfield like this one was. After one goal a-piece in regulation they went into overtime where neither team was able to finish it up and they headed to penalty kicks. I can honestly say I don’t know how many more penalty kick finishes I can handle for one summer. The US Women’s National Team tortured us with 10 PK’s in the World Cup and now another 5 from this game. I don’t think these players realize what they’re doing to us. Forget about how difficult it is for them to go through it, that’s nothing! We’re the ones sitting here on our couches with a Corona on the edge of our seats losing our freaking minds. It’s tough. Now, I am a Boston Breakers fan at heart but WNY came in a close second for me this year so I was rooting for them all the way. Not only for some of my favorite players being on the team, but it’s also been great seeing a new team do so well. They went through all 5 penalty kicks making all of them on each side before Ashlyn Harris came up with an enormous save on Philly’s 5th shot. I mean enormous. Like Kirstie Alley before Jenny Craig enormous. It was phenomenal. How she didn’t make the World Cup roster, as a reserve behind Hope Solo I’m still unsure. So the new team to the league, WNY, walked away regular season champs and also with the cup for the final.

So now, let’s get down to some real talk. That game was a clear indication of the level that we have in this country for women’s soccer. Between the Women’s World Cup this summer and the growing talent of this league, people are taking notice. I live in Los Angeles where we do not have a professional team and I am dying to have one. Before you get all smart with me, I was not here when the Los Angeles Sol was here before folding. How’s this for timing? I am from Syracuse, NY which is about an hour from Rochester. I moved to Los Angeles in January of this year. So I moved to the place which just lost a team, from a place which was about to get a team. I would say the irony doesn’t escape me, but that’s one of those situations where people call it irony when it’s really not, it’s actually just bad luck. It’s like that song “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette. None of those situations were ironic, they just sucked. So this also, is in fact not irony, it just sucks. Now I want to listen to that song though. Maybe I can find my cassette tape single of it. Then I would need to find a cassette player too though. Oh, maybe a walkman! I appear to be off track.

It’s time for some more expansion teams! There, if I just put it right out there before I get off track again I know I at least said it. This WNY expansion team flourished and the league is growing along with the interest across the country. We have Olympics next year so it is a great time to keep that momentum, as I know the league knows. I just hope there are enough funds somewhere to get a few more expansion teams out here on the west coast over the next couple of years. It would have to be a cluster of teams at once out here and it won’t happen overnight but I can be patient. Some West Coast 2013 or 2014 teams would be a beautiful thing. I mean, let’s be real here. It’s southern California. It’s basically Mexico. There are kids playing soccer in the streets everywhere. It is a soccer rich area. Don’t get me wrong, I would much rather see the teams play in stadiums, not in the lot off Santa Monica Blvd with the Mexican children. But hey, if it would get some teams out here I’ll help clear the lot of broken glass. Let’s go!

There is so much young talent in this country coming up the ranks from college and with the growing interest I can only hope that there is something in the works for more expansions soon. These women deserve great facilities, big sponsors, and lots of publicity. So my hope is that WPS can not only flourish along the east coast, but also come out to the west coast again soon too. And hey, let’s even include all those states in the middle of the country that no one really cares about. This is the best women’s league in the entire world, and there are only 6 teams. Imagine if there were 12 teams. It would be the best league in the world…but with 12 teams. So, twice as best. Wrap your head around that.

I think I’m done rambling for now. So congratulations to the WNY Flash and of course my favorites from the team (Imagine a cool music intro for this awesome shout out segment and picture me screaming their names and shrieking holding a sign with their names inside of hearts like I was on TRL back in the day. Damn, I keep going back to the 90’s. Damn! I’m off track again! Ok, music intro, GO!) Begin: shout out. Ashlyn Harris! Alex Morgan! Brittany Bock! Christine Sinclair! Caroline Seger! Ali Riley! Whitney Engen! Beverly Goebel! Kaley Fountain! Yael Averbuch! McCall Zerboni! And congrats to the whole WNY Flash team! (Shrieking noise only dogs can hear) End: shout out.

Thanks for an amazing season of the beautiful game. I am so excited for next season and to see Morgan, Bock and the whole WNY team tear it up again. I also cannot wait for the Olympics next year and am anxious to see if any different faces make the trip to London on the roster. (cough, cough, Brittany Bock cough, cough Ashlyn Harris) Now I’m off to find my Alanis Morisette cassette tape and hit up some garage sales and thrift stores to find a walkman!