Diary of a Hacker (Part Two)

1 12 2014


One of my pet hates in life is reality TV shows, which I absolutely refuse to watch on the grounds that they are often demeaning to the contestants and an insult to viewers’ intelligence. Even so, I know enough about ‘Big Brother’ to see parallels between it and life for the seven of us in our rental house here in sunny Maricopa. Sleeping arrangements have been the first bone of contention. It’s fine for me, having picked the ace in our draw for pick of the bedrooms – I’m the only one who has his own room, with en suite bathroom to boot. Everyone else is having to share, and to judge by the mutual recriminations fired at each other by, say, Glennie and Donny, things are not always going well in the bedroom. I’ve slept with Glennie on several occasions (insert your own unsavoury comment here) and he could certainly snore for Canada. This morning, however, I was somewhat surprised to learn that he attempted to smother Donny Mac with a pillow last night because Donny was keeping him awake. Strong words were had over breakfast this morning.

Davey F-Bomb has been sleeping in a bedroom closet up to now and keeps reminding me that he’s coming out of the closet (so to speak) tomorrow, when he gets the master suite and I shall have to drag my mattress off into some quiet corner. I’d like to think that lack of sleep is the cause of a couple of mental aberrations on my part in the past 48 hours, during which time I have lost my fleece (found later in the trunk of a car I hadn’t travelled in) and lost my shoes (also in a car trunk, although in this case I suspect foul play on the part of one or more of my golfing partners). At least I didn’t clean my teeth with A535 rub, like Kenny V. He says his headache is gone. I wonder if it cures toothache too?

And so to golf. We played The Duke at Rancho el Dorado today and after a one hour frost delay (seriously) the temperatures soared into the high seventies. Most of our scores soared into the nineties, with one notable exception: Mighty Tim shot a superb 80 (net 60!) and surely earned the undisputed title of Sandbagger of the Week. Due to the ‘rolling handicap’ system we’ve adopted his handicap has gone down from 20 to 14. In other words, he’s pretty much screwed for tomorrow. Great round, though, Tim!


And screwed he certainly was. Tim’s 80 yesterday turned into an even 100 at Superstition Springs today, and several others in our group fared even worse. I actually played OK, shooting 83, and was the big money winner, which makes up for losing every single day up until now. Of course my handicap has now been cut while everybody else is creeping up into the 20’s and even 30’s, so tomorrow could be problematic. In addition, my win today attracted some unwelcome attention from Tug Boat Bob, who has now nicknamed me ‘Overseas Dave’ to differentiate me from F-Bomb Dave.

I’m surprised to discover that I actually quite like riding in a golf cart. I’ve always considered them a blight upon the game of golf, used only by unfit lardy bloaters, but because the gap between greens and tees is so large on most courses they are a true necessity. Not only that, but when the weather’s in the 80’s (sorry, Comox Valley dwellers, I know it’s a bit chilly up there right now), the breeze in the golf cart as you zoom up the fairway is a welcome relief from the Arizona heat. I kind of feel like General Patton, driving around and mustering the troops. Well, it is a war zone out there, with balls – and profanities – flying in all directions.


I had to move out of the master bedroom yesterday and so last night was my first night in the closet. I actually slept really well, but that might be connected to the amount of alcohol I’d consumed. Anyway, I felt surprisingly chipper this morning.  We played at the Foothills golf course today. F-Bomb Dave had spent half an hour on the phone yesterday persuading some poor lady to give us seven $59 rounds for $39. The lady was from England originally and I think that Dave’s clinching argument was that she should help out a fellow Brit and give us a special deal. Anyway, it worked and maybe now Tug Boat Bob will be more appreciative of  having Overseas as a member of the group. Talking of Bob, he had the runaway low net score today, 69. Unfortunately for him, we were playing a team match (total net scores) and our team prevailed, mainly thanks to Donny’s outrageous handicap of 33 meaning he could shoot over 100 and still break net par.


Today it was off to the lush greens of Cimarron, home course of Gene Genie. Finally everybody matched or beat their net par, partially due to the course being a tad easier but mostly due to the fact that everybody’s handicap had gone up so much that we were pretty well bound to record better net scores. Mighty Tim and F-Bomb recorded net 62’s (boo!), but the wall of shame was reserved for Kenny V, who scored an amazing net 59. In a modest acceptance speech Ken explained his success as follows: “If you f*ck up five days in a row, at some point your handicap is going to be so high that you have to win”. Wise words indeed, as he and Gene tied for first place with Tim and F-Bomb. Net 62’s? Shameful.

We came home to burgers, beers and the hot tub. Good news that tomorrow is our final day – we’re all well and truly knackered.


And it showed. Our last round was back at Foothills and nobody broke 90. Even so, we all had a blast. Somehow Davey F-Bomb had persuaded the course to let us on for $30 which, as it happened, worked out at exactly $3 per shot for me. Bah!

If you look closely, you can see that all seven of us look just a little bit worse for wear. Seven successive days of golf ( not to mention the accompanying excessive eating an drinking, will do that to you.

As Shakespeare expressed it so eloquently  in Henry V, “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.”  Glennie put it thus: “We sad bunch of hackers!”

Final round over, it was back home to Maricopa. In the ‘Miracle on Baize’ Davey F-Bomb and I won the final pool tournament of the week and then I exited first in the finale of the poker competition and was relegated to drinks server for the rest of the evening. What a great week though! Davey F-Bomb is the undisputed God of golf trips.

Many thanks to Davey and Donny, Glenny and Kenny, Tug Boat and Tim, who all mercilessly took my money at the pool table, the poker table and even on the golf course. It was an absolute blast  and I thank you all for letting me be part of it.

All da best!

Overseas Dave.




4 responses

1 12 2014

Hi Dave it sure sounds like you and the lads had a great time. With your organizational skills me thinks you could find eight or twelve Glacier Greens boy’s that would like a Golf venture to Arizona for a week of golf.

1 12 2014
Bagger Dave

Glennie and I think that could be a great idea, Len, but Davey F-Bomb is the master organiser. We’d have to get him over from Crown Isle to get things properly sorted.

1 12 2014

Hey Dave! What a trip. I laughed so hard in parts while reading this. Great job, and thanks for letting us in on the events. Best wishes. Martin

1 12 2014
Bagger Dave

Thanks, Martin. I believe that Ben went on one of Dave’s golf trips, so now you’ve got the inside scoop.

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