US OPEN

While we were in San Diego for the US Open last week, Jeremy heard a guy on the radio talking about the golf tournament, explaining that he had actually heard this on the course the day before: Husband to wife -- "Hey honey, see that guy in the red shirt? That's Tiger Woods." If you are that wife, you might not want to read on; you would probably be bored to death.

Anyway, here is a rundown of our trip. We arrived in San Diego the Sunday before and stayed at a house Jeremy's grandpa owns; thanks a million, grandpa Gene! On Monday we woke up at 4:30 am and drove to Qualcomm stadium to hop on one of 220 buses that took us to Torrey Pines golf course. (Monday through Wednesday were practice rounds.) As we were walking to hole #1 we saw a small crowd gathered around and mentioned that it must be someone big. Sure enough, Tiger Woods was just getting ready to tee off. The best part was that there were probably only about 20 people standing there so we got to follow him around with no crowds for half the morning. The next day we followed Phil Mickelson's group around the whole day and got his autograph; we also got autographs from Jim Furyk, Sergio Garcia, and Vijay Singh. It was a lot of fun being there for the practice rounds as we could get a lot closer than with the crowds that were to come. I also had my moment of fame when I was all over the Golf Channel that night, whenever they showed a shot of Phil putting.

Here was our Thursday, the first real day of the tournament. We got up at 3:30 am, got to buses by 4:30 am, we were the first people in line and were interviewed by 2 local news stations. Jer was on TV somewhere in San Diego but we never saw it. The buses started running at 5:30 and when we got to the course at 6:00 am, Jer said he'd run ahead and meet me at Tee #1. We wanted to make sure we got a spot in the grandstand at Tee #1 to see Tiger and Phil tee off in the same group. But as soon as I got through the gate and scanned my ticket, I didn't see Jeremy anywhere. I thought to myself, man, he's fast, he must've been sprinting. So I started jogging and jogged the 2 miles to the first tee (it's a very LONG course). When I finally arrived at the bleachers, covered in sweat from the run, Jeremy informed me that as soon as he went through the gate he got a ride on an NBC golf cart all the way to Tee 1. He saw me running the whole time and was trying to yell, "Don't run!", but I of course didn't see him. Oh well, at least I was warm and got my exercise in for the day. As if walking all day around a 7500 yard course wasn't enough exercise. At least it wasn't hot, though, actually a lot cooler than I expected.

Ok, so this is getting a little long. I'll wrap it up. We had so much fun at the course each day, seeing all the golfers, walking around, watching from the grandstands. Especially seeing Tiger make the final putt on Sunday to send it to a playoff. We had sat in the grandstand from 6:00 am that morning until Tiger came through in the last group about 5:30 pm. I can't believe I'm saying this but it was so worth the 12 hour wait. Jeremy likes to make fun of my reenactment of Tiger's double fist pump. What was not so fun was the line of 50,000 people all waiting to board buses afterwards. We felt like we were in a cattle prod. The next day we made sure we ran to the buses as soon as Tiger finally won on hole #7, after playing a full 18 holes with Rocco.

We didn't do a whole lot in San Diego besides the tournament. We did go to the beach several times, ate at some great restaurants (The Fish Market, Old Town Mexican Cafe, The Green Flash, Rubio's), golfed a little, and laughed at the crazy people in California. The classic one was an old guy heading home on his skateboard with a 24-pack of beer in each hand.

I leave you with the quote of the week. One day while sitting in the grandstand on hole #13, we were looking behind to hole #11. We were on the top row so we could see both holes, but people below us in the bleachers couldn't see the other hole behind us. Some of them would crouch down and peer through the bleachers, and a guy yelled out totally innocently: "All I can see is ankles and balls!"