The Boys Were Back
Amster scored tickets to the Tucson Conquistadores Classsic. It's a stop on the Champions Tour. The 13th tee is at the end of my street, Amster left her car in my driveway and we walked the half mile downhill to the golf course. There was no one taking tickets; it's a quiet cul de sac whose proximity to the festivities is a well kept secret. Not wanting to be scofflaws, we affixed our tickets to our wrists and stepped onto the paved pathway. We walked toward the tents, found snacks and shade, and made ourselves comfortable. We were there at 10am, well before the crowds. The kids were able to stand at the rope and see the rings on the golfers' fingers. We watched a few putts, saw a few drives sailing up up up and landing with a satisfying thunk, and then they had had enough. I had, too, and Amster had found a friend so I thought of you and the post I'd write. I tried to take a picture of the poster with the golfers' nam...