My flights back to Spain went okay. I actually slept quite a bit on the transatlantic leg from Philadelphia to Paris. Here are some of the photos I took. The first picture requires a little introduction. In Spain, the largest glass of beer you can order at a bar is a half-pint. Assuming your wait staff is relatively competent and not overloaded, serving half-pints is superior to serving larger sizes for two main reasons: 1) Your beer is always fresher, colder, and more carbonated, and 2) It's easier to go out with a few friends and have everyone buy a round.
I had 45 minutes to kill at the Philadelphia airport before my flight to North Carolina, so I sat down at a bar in the airport. The waitress came over and I ordered a Yuengling, by far the best value for money when it comes to American domestic beer. She asked if I wanted a small, medium, or large. I had 45 minutes, and I was pretty thirsty, so I said I'd have a large.
This thing was massive. It had to be at least two pints and was much easier to lift with two hands. It took me about 35 minutes to down all $12.50 of it. It was a good reminder of American values.
My foursome on the Thursday practice round: Scott, Jeff, Paul, and Erik.
The bag loader guy insisted on getting a vertical shot to show our feet.
Inside the TPC clubhouse, we saw Tom Watson's locker.
I love this shot. Jeff's got a pretty good position at address.
Whack! He's playing it right to left.
Scott hits his on a lower trajectory.
Mike and Paul relax outside the condo on Thursday evening.
Thursday night was the only time that I left the Legends Golf Resort. We went to a seafood buffet in North Myrtle Beach.
Jeff ate several crabs.
The 2007 trophies on display in my condo.
My condo also came with a free bongo drummer.
The Monkey's Uncle and Tiger Woods Pre-Nike Contract Bobble-Head Doll trophies.
The trophies shined in all their plastic glory.
Before beginning the first round of the tournament, many of us had a sip of Danny's peach brandy to warm us up.
My father gave me a dozen golf balls with
Erik Rasmussen Kingdom of Fife Champion
printed on them.
Jeff takes a free drop from the cart path.
I found this battered electrical box amusing.
One one hole, Jeff's ball ended up perched on top of some wooden boards.
Jeff poses with his rare lie.
He contemplates a shot.
He consults with The Committee.
Jeff crushes a drive.
Al lets one rip.
I caught them in a rather compromising position.
Scary! I hear Dennis and Phil go fishing together out in Montana a few times a year.
Dining at the local Ailsa Pub.
Some of the golf holes around the Legends Resort were absolutely stunning.
Many of us couldn't resist taking lots of pictures.
Jeff and Erik.
Dennis is always the Master of Ceremonies for all the awards.
Jeff is content. Beer, bongo, and friends.
Phil and Keith.
Scott, Mike, Ryan, Jacob, and Steve.
Mike, last year's winner of the Monkey's Uncle storytelling trophy, ceremoniously returns it to initiate the competition.
Jeff makes a speech in honor of The Committee.
And it's back to the pub for dinner. That's Ryan, Jacob, Erik, Al, John, Dennis, Jeff, Paul, Mike, Steve, and Mark.
Mike is pleased with his Tiger Woods Pre-Nike Contract Bobble-Head Doll trophy for showing the most improvement.
Dennis goes over to chat with a women's version of our group.
He meets the female Committee, the blond in the black hat.
Phil blasts one over a waste area.
At last, all the golf is over and it's time to load up the car. Phil's Tahoe is pretty filthy.
I love this picture. Beer, The Committee tallying scores, and the trophies to be awarded.
Jeff shares a beer with The Committee.
Each winner also received a sleeve of balls.
From Myrtle Beach, I headed to visit my grandmother in Buies Creek, North Carolina.
As previously mentioned, my grandmother and mother were very pleased to see me off looking so business-like.
My mother was still in her pajamas.
At work, I met my coworker's adorable little Jack Russell pup, Maggie.
She spent most of her time in this little travel box.
Her tail would go "wap, wap, wap" against the side of the box whenever anyone approached.
My coworker, Alan, has a pretty nice set-up of four monitors side-by-side.
Alan wasn't really sure about how to wear his new headphones.
When my grandmother dropped me off at the airport on Saturday, and I was checking in my luggage, the lady behind the counter told me that I was missing my ticket for the first leg of my trip to Philadelphia. The person that had torn out my ticket from Philly to Raleigh must have torn out two of them. Luckily, I still had my ticket from Philly to Raleigh, so the woman decided to "just pretend" that it was the right one and issue me my boarding pass anyway. It was clear that I had bought the entire itinerary together and that I really had been in possession of the missing ticket. Still, though, it was a lucky break. If she'd been having a bad day, I might never have gotten to leave.