This guy, "Cubby", has like 9 million aces under his belt ...but what is under the disc??! Look at his site and you'll see that he always poses the same. Or is he a cardboard cutout?�
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
What's under that disc?
This guy, "Cubby", has like 9 million aces under his belt ...but what is under the disc??! Look at his site and you'll see that he always poses the same. Or is he a cardboard cutout?�
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
natural in stinks
Well if your disc goes far off to the left at hole 4 you should be prepared.
As I approached to look for my disc, I realized that a guy was on the hill above the trail that goes up to 11th street. He had just stood up from his makeshift bed and was still working on pulling up his britches.
Having seen much more than I needed to see, I asked if he's noticed my disc landing in the vicinity?
"I didn't see it, but I felt it. It almost hit me!"
He pointed in the wrong direction, but it ended up being found no more than 5 feet from his makeshift pillow. Yeah. Needless to say my second shot was a bit hurried and not so great.
Turns out if you are sleeping in the Gulch and are almost maimed by a flying disc, the instinctual reaction is to drop your drawers and stand up.
Who knew?
As I approached to look for my disc, I realized that a guy was on the hill above the trail that goes up to 11th street. He had just stood up from his makeshift bed and was still working on pulling up his britches.
Having seen much more than I needed to see, I asked if he's noticed my disc landing in the vicinity?
"I didn't see it, but I felt it. It almost hit me!"
He pointed in the wrong direction, but it ended up being found no more than 5 feet from his makeshift pillow. Yeah. Needless to say my second shot was a bit hurried and not so great.
Turns out if you are sleeping in the Gulch and are almost maimed by a flying disc, the instinctual reaction is to drop your drawers and stand up.
Who knew?
Friday, May 18, 2007
Got grass?
A hearty thanks out to the lawnmowers. Keepin' the greens crispy and fairways friendly. Cooper Discourse smiles on the volunteers that maintain the course. Join them if you're feeling generous.
Good luck to all the Godesses in this weekend's Games.
Monday, May 14, 2007
The Recyclers
It's not uncommon to see people sifting through the trash cans at the Coop pulling out recyclables. More power to you folks, I say. Get a few bucks to make it through, and help out our wonderful world at the same time. I talked to one guy who comes through frequently in the evenings with his wife. They are the older than average Cooper couple who seem to be enjoying the job and wearing surgical gloves.
They are always very courteous about disturbing golfers on the tee. I once asked (assuming the guy was homeless or broke) how much he makes recycling. He told me that he has a day job and it isn't about the money. They just like to get out for a walk and help clean up.
Remember: When you assume, you make an asshole out of you and me. Or something like that.
One more thing: Folks, please use the trash cans!!! Don't litter the Gulch and give golfers a bad name. Better yet, pick up one piece of litter each time you smoke a bowl. Soon the place will be pristine. Let it be so.
Peace. -the pizza guy
They are always very courteous about disturbing golfers on the tee. I once asked (assuming the guy was homeless or broke) how much he makes recycling. He told me that he has a day job and it isn't about the money. They just like to get out for a walk and help clean up.
Remember: When you assume, you make an asshole out of you and me. Or something like that.
One more thing: Folks, please use the trash cans!!! Don't litter the Gulch and give golfers a bad name. Better yet, pick up one piece of litter each time you smoke a bowl. Soon the place will be pristine. Let it be so.
Peace. -the pizza guy
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Family Picnic @ hole 9
Although we all respect a peaceful family picnic, the fairway of hole 9 is probably not your best bet. We courteously warned the little family of this fact. However they did not choose to move. We skipped the last hole of our round. Hope that all worked out okay for them.
How'd you get that red stripe on your forehead?
Rumor has it that sleeping in the bushes of a disc golf course may result in the occasional Innova Roc to the face. That's a firm disc, as you may know.
Cooper Discourse acknowlegdes the many hazards of bush-dwelling, as did the bearded victim, apparently.
Cooper Discourse acknowlegdes the many hazards of bush-dwelling, as did the bearded victim, apparently.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Cooper Folk
I wanted to share a couple stories about fun and interesting people I've met at Cooper. There are many, many unique personalities that frequent the park, so I've singled out some of the more memorable here...
First was the cookie guy. Ran into him at hole 4 one day. He had a tupperware container full of cookies and offered one to my buddy and I, yum. Turns out that they were special cookies. About two hours after I ate the delicious treat I was in a semi-coma on my couch, unable to even form a response to my wife's questions when she came home from a hard day at work. Luckily, I came out of it a couple hours later with little permanent damage. Don't take cookies from strangers, kids!
Next was Radio. While we were preparing to drive on hole 4, this guy walked up with a small handheld radio and 2/3 of a disc. After a drive that I have to admit being impressed with, considering he was disc challenged, he explained to us that we have to walk up to the disc break a stick, put it where the disc landed, do a little dance, and then take your next shot. Whatever, guy. We told him where the next tee was and sent him on his way. Guess who was still there when we got there!
Not sure what happened, but his radio was now on the tee, baterries spilled out, as if it had been thrown to the ground. Judging by the short, creekside spot where he was looking for his disc, I'm guessing that the 2/3 disc didn't go as far as he'd wanted. So what happens next? My buddy steps up and nails an ace! BAM! How ya' like me now? Goin' on feelin' strong...
Last we saw of Radio, he was carrying nasty, Cooper sludge covered logs up the fareway on hole 6 and disappearing into the woods. Maybe looking for that other 1/3 fo his disc.
Lastly, I'll tell you about the lovely wood nymph we ran into at (you guessed it!) hole 4. She was lying under the big tree, while a small boy played nearby. We yelled up to them that we were going to be throwing our discs in there general direction and they might want to move slightly to one side. "Ah, whatever..." she replied. Luckily the pin was in the B position, so we could just play through without too much worry. As we were all walking up to our drives the wood nymph turned into a tootless, drunk old hag and yelled out, "Hey, you're a fucking faggot arncha!" What could I do, but agree and keep walking. She spat out a few more lovely greeting, took one last swig of her high gravity beer and through the can at my buddy. What a nice old lady! Sure wish I could have had that kind of home life growing up.
Now that I've finally added something to this blog, I'm hoping that the drought of Cooper Folk, spanning my last few outings, will end. I miss all the freaky people!
First was the cookie guy. Ran into him at hole 4 one day. He had a tupperware container full of cookies and offered one to my buddy and I, yum. Turns out that they were special cookies. About two hours after I ate the delicious treat I was in a semi-coma on my couch, unable to even form a response to my wife's questions when she came home from a hard day at work. Luckily, I came out of it a couple hours later with little permanent damage. Don't take cookies from strangers, kids!
Next was Radio. While we were preparing to drive on hole 4, this guy walked up with a small handheld radio and 2/3 of a disc. After a drive that I have to admit being impressed with, considering he was disc challenged, he explained to us that we have to walk up to the disc break a stick, put it where the disc landed, do a little dance, and then take your next shot. Whatever, guy. We told him where the next tee was and sent him on his way. Guess who was still there when we got there!
Not sure what happened, but his radio was now on the tee, baterries spilled out, as if it had been thrown to the ground. Judging by the short, creekside spot where he was looking for his disc, I'm guessing that the 2/3 disc didn't go as far as he'd wanted. So what happens next? My buddy steps up and nails an ace! BAM! How ya' like me now? Goin' on feelin' strong...
Last we saw of Radio, he was carrying nasty, Cooper sludge covered logs up the fareway on hole 6 and disappearing into the woods. Maybe looking for that other 1/3 fo his disc.
Lastly, I'll tell you about the lovely wood nymph we ran into at (you guessed it!) hole 4. She was lying under the big tree, while a small boy played nearby. We yelled up to them that we were going to be throwing our discs in there general direction and they might want to move slightly to one side. "Ah, whatever..." she replied. Luckily the pin was in the B position, so we could just play through without too much worry. As we were all walking up to our drives the wood nymph turned into a tootless, drunk old hag and yelled out, "Hey, you're a fucking faggot arncha!" What could I do, but agree and keep walking. She spat out a few more lovely greeting, took one last swig of her high gravity beer and through the can at my buddy. What a nice old lady! Sure wish I could have had that kind of home life growing up.
Now that I've finally added something to this blog, I'm hoping that the drought of Cooper Folk, spanning my last few outings, will end. I miss all the freaky people!
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