Return to the Quadrangle

With amulets, holy water, crucifixes, silver bullets and wooden stakes in our golf bags and priests, rabbis, shaman and the National Guard standing by, we, the fearsome foursome of LJ, RTGFKAR, Woowoo Charly and Yers Truly reentered the zone of lost egos and disappearing golf balls known as The Boquete Quadrangle located in Valle Escondido. We were determined to challenge anew the evil that stalked the course.

We started by splitting into two teams; Woowoo Chuck and I on one, RTGFKAR and LJ on the other. It was clear on the very first hole that something was different about this day when Woowoo and I birdied it and Team Two parred. Only one ball, mine, found the water. Though we changed teammates twice more during the seven hours we thrashed about the valley, little evidence of the demon's existence appeared and the film crews from CNN, ESPN and The Discovery Channel all departed and declared the whole thing a hoax. There was the mysterious loss of my Top Flite on number eight when a well struck three wood landed a foot or so from the green and we watched as the ball caromed high into the air and far into the jungle and there was also an odd force of gravity that sucked down every attempt of RTGFKAR's to clear the pond on number Nine. Each of us for certain had a shot or two go weirdly awry but these anomilies were chalked up to natural causes by the media. We who have played there often know better, but yesterday we lacked solid proof. The demon was clearly biding its time, waiting for another day. Once we realized this was the case, we took advantage, fired up our games and posted three good rounds of scores. There was nary a one over 40 on this Par 30 nine. There were three team efforts, in fact, of 33. I don't ever recall our doing better.

We're not fooled though. We know IT is still out there growing hungrier for having put off its appetite on this mid-week day. You won't find us in the clubhouse shelling out big bucks for new Titlesists or Top Flites or any ball that costs more than a half a buck apiece and we won't brag where the course can hear. Noooo, we are the wise and the wary. We know about the evil. We know that it hides and waits.

For one day though, one shiny warm Boquete day, we had bested the beast. Now with the knowledge that it is possible to play without pain, we're psyched to wrestle with the devil again. So take note Demon. We'll be back.