Saturday, August 15th: Golf Etiquette (or lack thereof)

Our last full day in the Philippines was about one thing and one thing only: the golf showdown. We had been talking up our throwdown since before we got to the Philippines and the day had finally come to shut up and swing. Jamie and I reunited at noon, then promptly headed out for the links. Now, the Intramuros Golf Course, while not the greatest course ever, was undeniably cool, as it is situated smack dab in the middle of Manila and borders the outer wall of Intramuros, the walled inner city built by the Spanish several hundred years ago.

The drama started as soon as our taxi rolled up. We stepped out and were swarmed by 10 or so caddies (maybe) and other employees. Now, we knew we were taking a chance with our attire, as I had brought only t-shirts to the Philippines and the standard rule is collared shirts only. I just figured it was the Philippines, and they usually don't turn down tourist money, so I assumed I could bend the rules a bit. Now, as we moved to the equipment shed to choose some rental clubs, I heard the employees start yelling something about "zapatoes", which is Spanish for shoes and I looked around in confusion until I realized they were talking about Jamie, cuz he came in sandals. Face. Palm. Thankfully, they had some spare shoes and that crisis was averted. Bags and caddies at hand, we moved to the first tee. We quickly noticed that we were out of our element. Every other group was vacationers here in the Philippines solely for the golf. Every party was decked to the nines in gloves, hats, shirts, shoes, pants, clubs, and balls all from Callaway or some other golf company. As we waited for our turn, we cracked jokes and were loud and obnoxious folks on vacation, so we probably didn't make any friends. Our golf was nearly derailed again, as somebody from the front desk came over to inform me, after we had already paid, that I couldn't play in that attire. We told him that if we can't play, he better give us our money back, then we'll go. He quickly ran off to confer with somebody or something, but our caddies, who happened to be the coolest mother fuckers ever, just said to play. Let it commence. Both Jamie and I started off terribly. You wouldn't think that you could do badly on a course where it is impossible to hit the ball out of bounds on one side because of the 30-40 foot tall, hundred or so year old stone wall, but we managed. Jamie summoned up the luck of the Irish or something (I know he's British, just assumed the Brits stole that from the Irish too), as he hit balls on 2 holes that actually skipped out of the water hazards, like he was tossing a god damn stone. I was not so lucky. I hit practically every water spot. We eventually heated up well beyond our actual ability in golf, as I legitly managed an eagle on a par 5 (yeah, the course was a small one, but still) with a chip in from 100 or so yards out. I couldn't fucking believe it. Jamie pulled some more magic out of his ass as well, as we golfed well beyond our meager expectations. The golf course was something to be beheld. On one side of the course we had Manila, with a major highway and all its noise, pollution, peddlers along the fence trying to sell tees, water, cigs, etc, and on the other side we had this monstrous ancient wall, with cannons still in position in some places. Ohh, did I mention all the chickens. Yes, it wouldn't be the Philippines if there wasn't chickens somewhere. In this case they were just roaming the links, along with the cats. Yeah, there were cats too. The caddies, man, were they a blast. I assume they had more than enough of the stuffy, no fun, bitch at the caddie when they fuck up golfers, so they seemed very appreciative to be able to laugh and joke freely without repercussion. Hell, with the overall lack of etiquette and stupid shit we pulled, you would have to be a robot not to laugh at it. I mean, at one point, while the group ahead of us was walking towards the green of the short par 3 they were still playing, Jamie shot his tee shot. Thankfully, nobody was hit, but we did have a hell of a laugh when the other party got to the green and had no idea where the hell this other golf ball came from. Jesus. While waiting on the final tee, one caddy offered to hook us up with some ladies and show us how its done, which led to an explicit conversation of sex. This is how golf should be. Gentlemen's game? Fuck that.

In the end, Jamie Jackson won by 2 strokes. I had the lead by 2 with 3 holes to play, but there was water on the last few holes, so naturally I had to hit into all of them. My less than clutch performance continued past the golf course, as I didn't bring enough money to pay the caddie, so I had to catch a cab back to my hotel, grab more cash, then run back to the links. Thank god cabs are cheaper than water in the Philippines. Once I got back and paid, we caught the cab back to the hotel again, ate dinner and went to bed. The end. Bye Philippines. Hope I can come back soon, when you aren't having landslides and flooding that keeps me away from some of your best sights. Till then, don't change. Well, maybe you could improve on the poverty, and general well being of your residents, but otherwise, keep doing what you're doing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3BmwoRXl_-U

Pics: Album 2, Pictures 24-42