I told my wife this and she said that I was overly optimistic.
“I think you should be up earlier.”
“Earlier than 5:30?”
“Yes,” she said firmly.
This was not surprising. She is a notorious early arriver at the airport, terrified of being late to the gate. In 1995, we were in New York when I ran the marathon, and after the Sunday race, we had a flight home on Monday afternoon. That morning, I said that we should see the World Trade Center on our way out of town, and she said we didn’t have time, and that we could see it the next time we were in town. Although she did let me stop and get some fresh bagels to take home, we missed our chance to see the WTC before it came down on 9/11. She has always felt a little bad about that (we were three hours early at LaGuardia), but her phobia persists.
So I was up at 5:00, and was safely at the gate by 7:00. She was probably right as usual.
The flight to Las Vegas was uneventful. I snoozed through most of it, having a breakfast of cinnamon graham crackers, onion crackers, and Diet Coke. Echhh.
Upon arrival, I reunited with the guys I played golf with last year - my law school buddy Scott, his neighbor Tony, and Tony’s friend Doug. They are all about my age and are all golf nuts.
We went directly from the airport to the first course - Coyote Springs, about 50 miles north of Vegas. A quick lunch, some range practice, and off we went.
The course was beautiful, a Jack Nicklaus designed layout with ultra fast greens. I was worried that my game was not going to be up to par (dad joke) but I hit the ball well, especially off the tee. I did not score well, but we had a lot of guy fun on the course. The highlight for me was holing a thirty foot putt in a competition for beers.
We finished at about 5:30, then checked into our casino hotel and watched the NCAA basketball championship game (I continued my sports betting losing streak by picking UConn over Michigan for $20), and then up to the rooms for a well-deserved good night’s sleep.
Tomorrow: More golf!
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