Daytona Finish Line

The drive from Winter Haven to Daytona Beach is usually a straightforward 2-hour ride, but the torrential rains on that particular Monday made it very difficult. Wednesday was a busy day for me. I was asked to be in a photo shoot with 3 other girls. One of the photo shoot sites was the Daytona International Speedway where the Daytona 500 takes place. We got to stand on the finish line with our drivers—it was very cool! Afterward, those of us who had signed up ahead of time got to ride with a driver who took each of us around the track going 130 mph. I was most surprised at the steep incline of the turns of the track. I knew there was some degree of incline, but the real thing looks completely different. I think the inclines of the 2 turns are 21 and 31 degrees. Also, the finish line has a lot of signatures and notes that the drivers write before the race. They aren’t visible on TV, but it was filled with writings. After what felt like a rollercoaster ride, I headed to the golf course for a Pro-Am. Unfortunately, we only got 9 holes in before we were called off the course for another storm. It was no ordinary storm; there were gale-force winds, and the course was flooded after about 1 hour of rain. Thursday was no better. The rain was relentless, and it was difficult to even drive down local roads. Thankfully the weather cleared for the weekend and we had a beautiful 3 days of golf. Besides wind and a saturated golf course, there were no problems. I struggled with my alignment during the weekend and it caused some issues on my tee and approach shots. I shot 74-74-72 to tie for 34^th place. There was, however, no time to reflect on the weekend, because I had to leave immediately after my last round back to the West Palm area where I flew out the next morning at 6:30am for our next tournament.

It’s really depressing when you have to set your alarm for 3:45am, but what made it all worth it was a week in Mexico. I made it to Puerto Vallarta without a hitch, and the clubs didn’t get lost! The first thing to do was to head to the beach bar for a cerveza—I love my job. Tuesday was the usual practice round and Pro-Am party that evening. The Pro-Am party was on an outside patio overlooking the beach. It was beautiful. As I mingled in the crowd, what seemed like a giant raindrop landed on the top of my head. As I looked up to see where it came from, I saw a bird sitting on a tree branch. The last thing you want to see, when you look up perplexed by a foreign substance landing on your head, is a bird. A friend helped get, what was now identified as bird poo, out of my hair. I had a wave of emotions—first complete disgust, and then one of anger that out of all of these heads at the party it had to land on mine! I am not an inherently lucky person, or if we spin this in a slightly more positive way, I only seem to defy the odds when it’s something you DON’T want. For instance, I was 1 in 100 who became a Mexican bird’s port-a-potty. Another example that comes to mind is when I got my wisdom teeth removed. Not only did I wake up in the middle of surgery with a drill in my mouth (the doctor clearly underestimated the tenacity of my liver), but I also ended up with 2 dry sockets. As the doctor had described to me before the surgery, dry sockets are a complication of pulling wisdom teeth in which the holes do not close and heal properly. The doctor told me not to worry because only 10% of people get 1 dry socket. Ya, that’s right. By my high school math that means I’m in a special class of the 1% that get 2 dry sockets. I had won the lottery that pays out in pain. My little avian friend was not a good omen for the rest of the week. I had a frustrating few rounds of 73-74-77. I lost my very nice sunglasses somewhere on the beach, that some immoral tourist never returned, and I had a tequila sampler gift for my parents confiscated from Mexican airport security. I hope you enjoyed the tequila, Juan! I sound like a Debbie Downer; I must state that I was in good spirits all week. Although, if it wasn’t for the pool, beach, and sun, I’m sure my unfortunate events would have stung a little more. Even though there were a few hiccups during the trip, it was still a trip to a beautiful Mexican resort and I had a lot of fun while I was there. It was good to have this week off and work on a few minor things to get ready for San Antonio.

Happy Easter!

What I did not expect was to fight a lingering cough the entire week. My diet for the week consisted of Benadryl, cough syrup, and Sucrets. Constantly coughing surprisingly takes a lot of hard work. I actually became sore from coughing, and while I may expect 6-pack abs by the end of it, I found myself growing tired easily. However, this could not stop the busy scheduling that we must adhere to for the week. This included a “Meet the Pros” dinner party held by the title sponsor, Florida’s Natural Orange Juice. Each Tuesday we have a dinner party where people participating in the pro-ams for the week can mingle with the pros and LPGA Futures Tour staff. This week it was held at the Florida’s Natural Grove where we were able to see the orange groves firsthand.

Wednesday morning was my designated pro-am. The pro-ams are set up as 4 amateurs and 1 professional playing scramble format. Although it is a scramble format, it tends to take at least 5 hours to play. I spent Thursday practicing for a few hours and mainly relaxing before the tournament. Friday was the first day and I had an early tee time to start the season. Every group has one designated volunteer cart driver. Players are allowed to place their golf bags on the cart if they do not have a caddy and do not want to carry their bag. As I walked up to the 10^th tee (my starting hole), I noticed that my other two playing partners had beaten me to the cart. I was about

Donna on the bag

to throw my bag in the front seat, when my 5 foot nothing mom said softly, “I can carry your bag if you want.” I was in a state of shock because my mom had watched me in many tournaments and she had never caddied before. The reasons were mainly because her knowledge of golf is limited and also because my golf bag is roughly the same size as she is. I turned around and asked, “Do you think you can make it?” Without hesitation, Donna assured me it was no problem and she would be fine. I was confident in her abilities until the next question was, “How do I put the bag on?” After giving an introductory course on the double-strapped golf bag and throwing a caddy bib on Donna—which turned out to be a caddy dress on her—it was time to tee off. I hit 8 greens with 3 birdies and no bogeys on my first 9 holes. I had a lackluster back 9 and ended up with a 2-under 70. Donna did a great job carrying the bag, and her speed walking finally came to good use.

I figured Donna being a rookie caddy would be sore from her hard day’s work and probably wouldn’t be able to caddy the next day. However, she was more limber than ever. She carried that bag like a true professional. Although she sometimes forgot where the next hole was, there was always a fresh bottle of water on hand, and occasionally, she had my driver out and ready for me to grab on the tee. I putted well the second day, but a few bad approach shots and my inability to get up and down a few times left me with a 72 even par.

Donna surprised me again when she was able to caddy for the third day straight. Sunday was a frustrating day. I went from hitting 8 greens in 9 holes to 8 greens in 18 holes. Not only was I struggling with the approach shots, but my putting did not gel like it did the last two days. While scores were higher due to the windy conditions, I dropped back with a 75 and ended in 35^th place. Although it was an aggravating round, I couldn’t help but smile seeing Donna carrying my golf bag like an 8^th grader with an overstuffed backpack chasing the bus.

I may not have played as well as I would have liked, but I did a lot of good things on the course. And it is encouraging that if I work out a few kinks, I will be in contention soon. The best part of the week was having Donna caddy. It brought a whole new experience and connection between my golf and my mom. She will definitely have to keep her day job; it pays a lot better than my thank yous and hugs, but it won’t be the last time professional caddy Donna Curtis wrestles the golf bag.