Not to be too overdramatic here, but if you're enjoying the PGA Championship this weekend, you can thank Scott Bosetti and I. Because we single-handedly saved the tournament Friday evening -- we put out a fire.
OK, saying that we "saved" the tournament might be a bit of a stretch. It's not like it was a scene out of the movie "Backdraft" or anything like that. We were riding in a wooded area between the tees on No. 5 and the fairway on No. 3 when Bosetti perked up and asked me, "Do you smell smoke?" I took a whiff or two and replied, "You know what? I do smell smoke." So Bosetti wheeled the golf car around and we began to scour the area to find the source of the smell. Pretty soon, Bosetti blurted out, "There it is!" and pointed to a small area at the base of a tree.
When we walked out to that spot, sure enough, there was a small fire smoldering in the mix of dust and pine needles that make up the floor of this wooded area, probably started by an errant cigarette butt. We kicked at it, trying to stomp out the embers -- fire, I now know, is hot -- before Bosetti went off to fill a few empty bottles with water, which eventually finished the job.
Not quite sure what I'm going to do for an encore today, but we'll see what the new day brings.
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