Michael, Our New BFF

We skipped couple's therapy today. I was hesitant because it's once a month. Jimmy really wanted to go to the PGA Tour Championship practice round here in Atlanta. Jimmy tells me it's the last stop on the PGA Tour that matters. We just realized it's less than four miles from our house. So close. He's been mentioning it all week, AKA: he really wanted to go. But, he was going back and forth because of worries. Worries about parking. Needing suctioned. Pregnant girl walking. The heat. The rain. The vent alarm going off during a tee off. All kind of worries.

I just got the tickets.

But I realized it wasn't clear on the website where handicapped folks would park, etc. No parking at the golf club. They were shuttling people from Turner Field to the golf club (approx 6 miles away). I knew that most likely wouldn't work for us. Most "shuttles" aren't handicapped accessible. I made several calls inquiring about this. I asked Ticketmaster. They said, "someone at the venue would direct us where to go." A very cookie-cutter answer that didn't really apply in this situation. And also, they just wanted my money.

I called PGA Headquarters in Florida. A super nice lady said she would call me back. She did, but didn't have an answer for me. She gave me the number for the local PGA Tour office and told me she was having a hard time getting someone on the phone, they were pretty busy, and that I could try that number if I wanted.

I did. Someone answered on first try.

This lady was soooooo busy that she clearly didn't have time for my measly questions. Zero sympathy for the trouble I was trying to avoid; the trouble I knew was ahead of us. I felt like I was being scolded for calling. She told me the "shuttles" were equipped for handicapped accessible needs.

They weren't. 

They were charter buses.

When we arrived to Turner Field, they had -- one -- mini van, exactly like ours, with a side ramp running back and forth. One. And there was a gentleman already in it, with his brother on the way. There wasn't room for Jimmy, myself and our nurse.

We would have to wait.

30-40 minutes go by.  I'm very thankful that the Coca-Cola workers and volunteers gave us chairs and some of their shade while we waited. (No Coke though? Really? Just kidding.) One of the volunteers started to talk to Jimmy; asking him about his wedding band, when he got married, when the accident happened, our pregnancy, etc.

She went away and about 10 minutes later she came back and told us there was a guy with the tour who was going to help us.

He came over asked us a few questions, made a call, and then came back again. He said there's a lot next to the golf club that they are gonna let us use.

My thoughts: Oh, that's cool. 

Not only that, he was going to escort us to the golf club and show us exactly where to go.

My thoughts: Uhm... really?

We followed our new best friend Michael over and parked right there behind where the player's lot was. It was basically a bunch of BMW courtesy cars used to transport the guys to and fro.

We weren't professional golfers being transported by BMW courtesy cars but we were basically the next best thing.

I mean, bestie Michael even went so far as to ask the street cop if we could park on the street because the grass lot, which was a little wet, wouldn't be good for our van, nor the wheelchair. I DIDN'T EVEN TELL HIM ABOUT WET GRASS SUCKING FOR OUR SITUATION. HE JUST KNEW.

He walked us in and told us to have fun.

To that I said, "can I hug you?" He said yes. And I did. 

Michael very much reminded me of Charles. Charles was the guy who went way, way out of his way for us at the Steely Dan concert about a year ago. I wrote a blog called I Love Charles after that. Michael, you're up there with Charles. You two should have a beer together. But then you would argue over who would pay because you're both SO DAMN NICE.

Okay, so we get there and we see Matt Kuchar on the practice range! And he totes has his collar popped and cute, trendy shoes on. And Jason Day! My new fav. And then we walk down to a nearby hole and see Rickie Fowler (!) and Jordan Speith. I've only learned these people since I've started watching golf with Jimmy a few years ago, but now love watching some of them. Seeing these cute boys in person when you've only seen them on TV? Eeek. This is what it probably was like for my friends who I would bring by the news station.

While we were resting outside the golf club about to leave, we see a few golfers signing autographs and taking pictures with crowds. I left Jimmy and the nurse to get a picture of Jason Day, probably the only one aside from Adam Scott who could get me up from my comfy spot in the grass after all that walking.

All of a sudden, I see Jimmy in line to get his picture taken with J Day. I'm not saying Jimmy played the wheelchair card to his advantage, but I'll tell you that cute Jason Day and Justin Rose totally skipped over a few people to take pictures with my boy.

You don't understand. Jason Day talked all Australian to us. He might've even called Jimmy "mate."  I die. My husband and Jason Day in one picture. I die. I die. I die.

Way better than couples therapy. Sorry, doc.

Jason Day. I realize I talk a lot about him in this blog. And thee Jimmy Moore.
Justin Rose. He looked at every camera except ours.

Rickie Fowler!
Us at East Lake Golf Club, Atlanta, GA


  1. Omg. What an awesome day! So good to see that smile on his face and to hear of good people in this world! So glad you decided to go!


Post a Comment

Popular Posts