On Saturday, Chris and I went to Pebble Beach to watch the U.S. Open golf tournament. If you have been to a PGA event, the Open definitely takes it to the next level. If you haven’t, I’ll try to describe the spectacle. My first inkling of the scope of this event occurred on Friday night. After I eventually landed in San Francisco, I spent two hours to go sixty miles and finally clear San Jose. I had smooth sailing to Monterey from then on, but after turning off the 101 for Monterey, the opposite direction was a fifteen mile long traffic jam. It was all US Open traffic leaving Friday’s event.

On Saturday, we got up at dawn and left quickly. We forgot to bring sun screen and hats, but it was cold and cloudy in the morning. Do you know where this is going? You have to take busses into Pebble Beach, so we drove to Fort Ord and somehow ended up on the volunteer’s bus. Serendipity really, the volunteers were friendly and helpful and they had the best parking lot.

We arrived at the Open. It was early and everything was still not crowded. Chris got a ball cap, $35, and we got our picture taken in the Lexus booth. This particular car was dimpled like golf ball is, or like a car with heavy hail damage, take your pick. I should point out at this point that the USGA does not permit cell phones, cameras or guns on the course, unless you have a USGA permit. All of this is metal detector enforced. As a blogger, this was a bit of an impediment, but as you see I have overcome. Between the Lexus booth and PicApp, I have eye candy for this post.

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We toured the course first. It is not usually open to the public and it possesses some breathtaking scenery. While waiting for the next pair of golfers I saw hundreds of cormorants, sea otters frolicking in the kelp, kayakers and windsurfers, monster yachts and oh, golf too. I’m not much of a golf fan, but I did have a good time at the Open.

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Then there was Tiger. After marching around for five hours we were ready for some sit down time. All of the grandstands were full by then, but we found our own little grassy knoll. The fairways are decorated with patches of long uncut grass and this was one such patch that the previous days spectators had already matted down. It made for a soft bed. About this time the sun appeared. Can you see it now? We sat there for about an hour, waiting for Tiger to appear.

All of the other golfers were attended by a single cameraman. Tiger had over a dozen paparazzi. He also had five armed police officers escorting him. As he passed by us, a man behind me yelled out, “Tiger, you are my hero.” I don’t know if this guy was sincere, but it coincided with a change in Tigers fortunes for the day. Before this callout Tiger was sinking, afterwards his game was buoyant.  And yes that is me, once crispy critter.