That's what it was, if you didn't get it from the page title, the big red lettering on top of the page, or the "Tournaments" section of my little chart up there.  (Or as Shel said, "In case you didn't hear me the first three times, I'm Key West's Jesse James")

Cam and Colorado Bob won the pro division, beating Scott and Tim in a playoff.  Yours truly and Todd pulled up the rear.  A bunch of sniveling wimps played in the am division, but who really cares about ams?

Oh, I do.  The women won the ams, Jo and Sara I think, by a whopping ten strokes, mainly due to a well intentioned but boneheaded handicapping system.  I suspect there will be revisions by next year.   In case you're paying attention, if you're intent on handicapping (I hate it, I love to see women play with the men but it should be because they think they can compete) might I suggest that an average round by the women should place them in the middle of the pack...

So we went down there Friday night and camped out, drank a keg of Bass that Chris was cool enough to bring, and watched several psychos spend all night loading the fire with half the rain forest in an effort to speed global warming.  I'm pretty sure they succeeded.  We looked at the stars, threw a bunch of putts through the fire, listened to some bongos, talked to lots of drunks, and generally had a pretty good time.  Somewhere in there I almost wished I'd brought my guitar.

I still have a powerful affection for fright flight at Wills with the backwards course and all, but this ant farm stuff is definitely the way to go.  Seeya next year, I guess.

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