I firmly believe that 99.99% of the phone calls that we get early in the morning are ever good news. That was the case for me and my family yesterday morning. My dad was in the midst of having the round of his life at his local golf course, he had made 3 pars in a row, but started to feel a little a little weird. He likes to walk the course, so the foursome that was scheduled ahead of him let him play through. He said he got really nauseated, so he decided to lie down in the fairway. He felt a little better, so he went ahead and hit his ball, got another par, but couldn’t shake the uneasiness. He lay down again, but this time he didn’t get up. Luckily, the foursome didn’t take too long to catch up to him and called 911.
He was having a heart attack.
The local hospital realized that the Piedmont in Atlanta was better equipped for his needs, so he got to ride in a helicopter for the first time in his life. The good folks here got him just in time and did what they do best.
The Texas contingent got to Atlanta as quick as we could. Thank goodness there was good weather in our part of the world. When we finally got to see him, He was awake, lucid, and in good spirits. Amazingly, he will probably get to go home in a few days. When I first saw him, I told him “it must have been one hell of a shot!”
“I don’t remember a time when I hit it straighter.” Even in his massive amounts of pain, he did manage to put the flag back in the hole (mula!) before he went back down. He doesn't want to anger the golf gods.
So forgive me if I don’t use this space today to talk Gold Cup, the FMF’s admission that they make hasty decisions based on $$ instead of what’s best for its teams(I’m paraphrasing), or anything else footie related. I am going to spend the rest of the day with Pop.