But Trix got his glove on correctly, and that was about it. He crossed up the field and threw a little 82 at them. For the week, that was 76-78-82—236, just 31 shots off the pro pace. He couldn't get a break. At the 8th hole he hit a shot just off the green, on a little hill. No problem. But as we were walking to the green, the ball suddenly decided to roll back down the hill into an impossible bunker lie. His face got all purple, and I thought he might just bite the rake in half. At one point, as he was crouched behind me reading my putt, I said, "What do you think?"
"I am quitting the game," he said with teeth clenched. "Put that in your [expletive] article." I really felt miserable for him. He was trying so hard. The thing was, we still had a chance. I came within one foot of a hole in one on the 12th hole, and we were 14 under at the turn. We had guessed that if we could make five net birdies on the back nine, we would be at Pebble on Sunday. Posing. Shutters releasing. Autograph sessions.
Instead we played like diseased yaks. We not only failed to make four more net birdies, we hardly made any more net pars. Our tournament ended on the 14th hole at Spyglass, an easy par-5. We both had 100-yard wedges over a pond to an uphill green. Trix went first and spun it back into the pond. So, naturally, I skulled mine down a 40-foot ravine to the right. We both made seven. Two-Down pulled something out of the bag and showed it to me. The bottle of Brain Pep.
Trix never did make another birdie. However, on our 16th hole of the day, he missed a five-footer for birdie, walked over to a nearby pond and very calmly deposited his putter within. Good move. His putting improved. He made a nice four-footer with his driver on the last hole for par. We finished at 12 under, seven shots from making the cut, 15 shots behind Ma-gee's team, the pro-am leaders.
I never did make 10 pars in one day for my pro. I'm not sure my pro made 10 pars for my pro. We were so bad, we tied with Jack Lemmon. Make it 21 years in a row. More bad news: Schulz missed the cut by one lousy little shot. Good grief.
There would be no Sunday services at St. Pebble for Team Trix. Still, I want to mention that we defeated Joe Montana, Orel Hershiser, Johnny Bench and Bobby Rahal, every one of 'em a Hall of Famer. Why don't you media types write that?
Next time, I've got to have 18 shots.
And Trix needs at least six.