Starting out at Estrella del Mar, the other six who came along did what I did. I must look like a really great golfer, which is good, but I really wish I was a great golfer, and not just have the appearance of one. I wanted to warm up for a long time, and then go play by myself. Both Eric and Curt chose not to go with me to play golf on this trip, so I selfishly hoped not to play with anyone this time.
We had one guy from Las Vegas. He said he shot an 86 (when we were back in the van ready to go back to the ship), which he also said was not good for him. We also had Bill, Brad, and Jason from Phoenix. Brad was Jason’s stepson, and Bill was Jason’s best friend. The other two were brothers who were from, get this...Durango, CO of all places. Or at least that’s where Rick was from. He is a plumber there. He owns or manages Ace Plumbing.
Small world, but not small enough. When I asked him if he knew Dale or Jess, he said no. He told me he was a member at the Hillcrest Golf Course, so I asked if he knew Greg (last name). No, he did not know him either. He's lived in Durango for thirty years now, but I was striking out. It wasn’t that I was trying really hard, but I was trying to make some conversation, and I thought it was amazing to find a guy who was playing golf at Estrella del Mar in Mazatlan who lived only forty minutes away from me. I forgot to ask him about the senior Edgertons, but we just met again at lunch at the Windjammer, and I introduced him to Eric, so I asked him then. He said he had heard of the Edgertons, so at least we got one.
My plan was to warm up a long time and then go play by myself. We had lots of time, about five hours and a little more. I thought the others would go off without a warm-up, but as I was getting set up at the range, they slowly began joining me. I stayed until the very end, but a guy from the course came over and said, “If you’re the guys from the cruise you better get going; the shuttle is coming back at 2:00.”
I went over to the putting green. Rick, his brother, and the guy from Vegas were teeing off. The other group was waiting at #1, so I went over to either join them or at least figure things out and make a plan. I ended up joining them, but they did their best to convince me not to. They said they were awful, and that one of them was blind. I said I didn’t care. I said I was just happy to play golf at a beautiful golf course. If I would have done it again, though, I would have taken off right away; I would not have even warmed up. That way, I would have had the whole golf course to myself. It wasn’t that I really minded playing with these guys; they were nice and funny, but after three holes, I was playing badly and they were really slow. They weren’t kidding. They were bad. One guy was blind, partially blind. They were scrambling, and that helped, but every time Jason, the partially blind guy, had a turn, his friend Bill would help him out. He would say things like, “Do you see that row of palm trees there? Do you see the tall ones and then that really short one? Aim at the tall one next to the short one."
This type of instruction happened on every hole and every shot, putts included. After hole #3, I decided to take off on my own as politely as I could. I said I was slowing them down as much as they were slowing me down. It was a good move. They started playing better (they told me later), and so did I. My great golf appearance must have made them nervous, but the way I was playing should have helped them relax.
More Estrella next time...
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