It's Time to Move On

It's cliche to say that all good things must come to an end. I have a hard time looking back over the past ten months of my adventures and writing them off as simply "coming to an end." And though this will be my final blog post on this blog, this journal celebrating the trials and tribulations of my gap year, I cannot close with a sorrowful tone. Yes, the school year is over (congratulations to all of my friends who graduated last weekend), and yes, I am home from the third planned phase of my year off, but as I've raced around Williamstown the past week or so attempting to prepare for what lies ahead, I've experienced no feelings of letdown. My gap year may be over based on the calendar, but I don't feel as if anything has ended--I only feel more ready to move on to the next chapter.

Back home on Lake Champlain

Today, in a few hours, I will report to 126 Camp Dudley Road. I will walk through the main gates, give big hugs that say "I've missed you," and meander down to Williams Cabin, my home for Summer 2013. We'll all be busy. This stellar crew of leaders and staff gracing the Dudley campus today has ten days to prepare for the start of camp. I know we'll be ready when the campers arrive next Tuesday.

There will be time for reminiscing--time to collect all of our individual stories from the offseason and pool them together in joy of reconvened friendship. But sooner than I care to realize, my tales of adventure from my gap year will have to settle themselves in a small corner of my cabin. They will always be there for when I need them, but for now, they'll have to take a backseat to the new memories we'll create this summer. I do know, however, that I have a better place than a dark corner to keep my stories--I have this blog. 

And that's the cool part. How cool it's been that I got to live in Germany, tuning my soccer skills as I tuned my ears to the rough vernacular of a beautiful people. How cool it's been that I was able to visit Dudley friends at college campuses all over the east coast, rekindling the Dudley spirit far from the campus here on Lake Champlain. How cool it's been that I got to spend sunny spring days outside on the golf course--and get paid to do so! And how cool it's been that I woke up every morning and asked myself, "What do I want to do today?" 

Every day I think back to some segment of my year and remember something new. I've discovered so much for myself that as I look back, remembering forgotten instances is almost like seeing them for the first time. I'm always filled with excitement when I think about my adventures. I just attempted to sum up my year in four sentences, but I'm not concerned whether or not I hit on all of the right points. The coolest thing for me is knowing that in this blog, I have an encyclopedia of memories. Who knows what will come of these stories or what my gap year experiences will lead to, but I know that this year has changed me for the better. 

It's been exactly ten months since I boarded my plane to Germany. Start to finish, this year has been a little bit surreal for me. I was able to set off on my own and find success wherever I went. But I was never really alone. Before I say goodbye, I have to thank everyone who has helped my this year. Thank you to my wonderful hosts, the Jusdons and the Scobles, who in very different ways helped my to grow up. Thank you to my friends, new and old, who opened up their doors for a night so that I could stop and see somewhere new before continuing on my journey. Thank you to my grandparents, Mommom and Babo and Mimi and Papa, for providing so much love and support, and always caring whether I was thousands of miles away or staying with them for a week. And thank you to my family. Thank you for all of the emails, phone calls, bits of advice, and words of wisdom as I set off into the unknown, promising to return safely. Thank you for trusting me, and thank you for knowing that my favorite place will always be at home with the five of us together. I love you all. 

A Memorial Day To Remember

As a dedicated soccer player, Memorial Day weekend always meant one thing to me: the Needham Soccer Tournament. Every year, I've made the trip east with my club, Berkshire Ajax, for lots of soccer, guaranteed stops at Boloco, and cookouts at the home of Kerry and Lou Collins. We've gotten to know the Collins family well through the Foehls, and as the years have gone by, the size of the cookout has only increased. 

When I was home for Dylan's book party, I found myself lamenting that this year would be the first time in a long while that I would miss out on the Memorial Day festivities. I returned to Hamden praying for the off chance that some part of my long weekend would open up. Sure enough, I found my Sunday evening restaurant shift switched to Saturday, and with the fifty degree weather, we had no need for caddies at the country club. I went to be Saturday night with no commitments for the next day, except a drive to Wellesley to enjoy my day off the way I had hoped. 

Well, not only did I make it to Wellesley, but I also found myself with front row seats for a slightly more meaningful sporting event than a U12 soccer game. Let me explain. 

I arrived in plenty of time to see Toby Foehl's 11:30 match, coached by my dad and Brooks Foehl. With my brother Sam and the rest of the Foehl boys in attendance, we watched the Willamstown squad beat up on its competition. As soon as the final whistle blew, the eight of us piled in the van. Soon, we were on the Mass Pike heading east towards downtown Boston. We listened to the Red Sox pre-game show on the radio, and as we jumped out of the car, the first pitch was about to be thrown. 

I remember Red Sox games when I was younger where my dad and I bought cheap bleacher or standing-room-only seats and then moved closer and closer as the game went along. It was always my favorite way to watch the game, because jumping around from seat to seat was a game in itself. Well, that was our plan, except we had a crew of eight plus Nick Fogel, who saved us a spot in the SRO ticket line. 

Our plan was set; though our execution was spotty, if you consider that we had everyone inside the ballpark with a ticket by the bottom of the second inning, then we did just about as well as we could've hoped. Soon our conglomerate was broken up into twos and threes, but we all managed to find free seats on the first base side of park somewhere near Sections 16 and 17. For $20, it wasn't a bad deal.

First it was this...

Though the Sox were putting on a lackluster performance at best, and though various members of our crew were forced to relocate from time to time, we all seemed to be enjoying the chilly Sunday afternoon game to its fullest. That was, until I discovered that two of my Greylock classmates--Eric Leitch and Alex Majetich--were also in the ballpark, sitting below us in the first row. I told Eric to turn around and look at us, and after successfully making the connection, Eric sent me a message that would drastically change my viewing experience. He told me there were two free seats next to him in the front row that hadn't been occupied yet. It was the fifth inning. I was willing to take the risk. So, between innings, Jake Foehl and I pulled some stealth moves to sneak by the ticket-checkers, and just like that, we were in the first row. As we gawked at how close we were to the field and fiddled with the TV fixed on the facade in front of us, the Indians tacked on another run to make it 4-1. It was cool to be just yards from the Sox players as they took practice swings, but it wasn't so cool when they proceeded to ground out weakly to second. 

And then this. Not bad, considering I had a $20 standing-room-only ticket in my pocket.

Soon it was the ninth. The thrill of being in the front row (and making appearances on TV from time to time) hadn't worn off, but our time was running out. It was 5-2, and the Sox were three outs away from falling to Terry's new team. Then Pedroia walked. Papi blasted one over the center fielder's head. Soon we were only down by one run. Then again, there were two outs. It was the end of the batting order--newer members of the Red Sox like Johnny Gomes, Stephen Drew, and Jose Iglesias--that got the two out rally going. Don't forget, I'm still sitting in the first row. Standing and cheering is the better description, because the bases were now loaded for Jacobe Ellsbury. 

I'm surprised the camera was able to capture me at a moment when I wasn't cheering.

Moments later, Ellsbury took a fastball out to centerfield that hit the Monster on the bounce. Fenway went berserk. Two runs scored with ease, and the Sox walked off with the win. I don't make it to Fenway often, so watching a walk-off ninth inning from the front row was one of the most exhilarating things I've witnessed at a live sporting event.  We gathered our crew together as the fans finally began to exit the stadium. We were lucky to get into the park, lucky to find decent seats, and lucky to celebrate a come-from-behind Red Sox victory. 

It was a phenomenal afternoon at the ballpark. Back in Wellesley, our cookout at the Collins's was bigger and better than ever, complete with Corn Hole and Kan-Jam in the yard and a big fire that was the perfect thing for the chilly evening. Around that fire, sitting next to old friends and others I'd just met, it was the perfect time to share stories and reminisce. I've gotten good at telling my Germany story, but with all of my other adventures since the new year, I have even more to share. And I can compare my discoveries, too. Like girls in Germany versus girls in the South (I think we all know which ones I prefer). It was great to see the Collins's and participate in another eventful Memorial Day weekend, even though I wasn't out on the soccer pitch. I know this one will be hard to forget.

I can't fail to mention my lunch the next day. We always make a point to hit Bolocco--that's been a tradition for years--but we've discovered another favorite spot: Pinkberry. Frozen yogurt is the new ice cream, and Pinkberry does FroYo right. If only we could get one in Williamstown...

Celebrating An Extra-Special Book Release

Longtime Friend and Newly Published Author Dylan Dethier's 18 in America

I could've asked for a sneak peak. Many times this spring I considered inquiring about getting my hands on an early edition. Just for one day. I even held a copy as I watched college hoops at the Foehl's house while the author himself sat in the room. It would've been fun to be one of the select few to preview the book. 

Something inside, though, held me back. As much as I wanted to devour the stories from my friend Dylan Dethier's epic adventure--like I did while he was blogging about his trip four years ago--I also wanted to respect Dylan's incredible effort to create this product. 18 in America is certainly not about me; it's about the Williamstown native who was crazy enough to hatch this plan and brave enough to follow through with it. So I decided to wait like everyone else. I wanted to congratulate Dylan first before enjoying the book the right way. 

Last Thursday, I was home from Connecticut to do just that. Thanks to the generosity of the Costleys and the effort of the Foehls and many others, we gathered high above Bulkley Street to celebrate the book release. The crowd began to roll in, and it was an hour before I got to see my friend Luke--home from his gap year out west--because he was busy shuttling people up the hill. As I greeted friends, many of whom I hadn't seen since Christmas or even last summer, I saw Dylan pulling stacks of books out of a cardboard box. It was real. Here in Williamstown, we had the chance to get our hands on the first copies of an incredible story that will find its way to coffee tables and bookshelves around the world. 

Soon Dylan was asked to read, and so it began. He shared the brief prologue, which in only a few pages captured everything that waited in the upcoming chapters. How an idea can take someone with a strong sense of adventure and a lot to learn from the peaceful solace of Williamstown to the dangers of Las Vegas. How being alone is all relative, until you're stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but your head and your hands to turn to. How the most diverse people from this diverse country all feel the need to help out an eighteen-year-old with a slightly crazy dream. And how golf is much more of a unifier than it's made out to be. 

My story is different than Dylan's. He inspired me, of course, and his book will inspire many more. Without Dylan, I doubt I would've had the courage to plan a four-month stay in Germany or set off for a road trip down to Florida and back. The only part of Dylan's journey that I set out to recreate was his sense of adventure--the willingness to throw oneself into something completely foreign and make it out with stories to tell. These stories are impossible to discover in Berkshire County, or even at a NESCAC college like Williams or Middlebury. 

I finished the book within twelve hours of receiving my signed copy. It wasn't the fact that Dylan was the author that kept me up until four in the morning. That would've kept me up until midnight, or one at the latest. To stay up till four meant that it went above and beyond. Dylan described the book on an NPR interview as "a collection of stories that just happens to have [himself] at the center." I think that fits the book well, because each story from Dylan's stops across America is enticing and memorable. In a way, this description also fits the writing I've been doing on this blog. I've had the opportunity of the last nine-and-a-half months to discover stories for myself and stockpile them here. It's not so much about what I've accomplished or how I've learned and changed, but rather the memories I've created by simply throwing myself out there. 

For now, Dylan has his book and I have my blog. I'm proud to call the author of 18 in America my friend, and even though it's still early, I can't help but see Dylan and his story go a long way. Who knows? It would make a pretty good movie. 

Hosting Family and Friends in Hamden

A slew of visitors making the trek south from Berkshire County (and Grafton, NY) hit Hamden last weekend--all excited to see what I’ve been doing this spring and all eager for some fun on the golf course, at the restaurant, and at the Scoble residence.

The Annual Golf Outing

First my family arrived, as well as my grandparents, Mimi and Papa. Among other things, Saturday was our third annual Scoble/Dils Family Golf Outing at New Haven. Two years ago, my dad, grandfather, and I joined Uncle Harry and Uncle Blair for the inaugural outing, and last year we reassembled the crew on the day before I left for Germany for a fun-filled sendoff. This time around, I was psyched to welcome my brother Sam into the group for his first round at the club. While the girls went out shopping, we grabbed lunch and proceeded to the first tee for our afternoon round.

I’ve had the privilege of caddying for some neat people at New Haven this spring, and I especially enjoy touring the course for first-timers. There’s been nothing more pleasurable, however, than showing Sam around as my playing partner for our match. He controlled his draw well, and made plenty of fives-for-threes. He even dropped a twenty-foot putt for par on the thirteenth—one of the hardest holes on the course. Though I struggled on the back nine, it was still one of the most enjoyable rounds I’ve ever had.

Family Time

What's better than a round of golf with family and friends? A round of golf followed by a cookout, with even more family and friends. We arrived home to find the girls back from their afternoon of shopping and a very exited Oscar (the family beagle)--drooling from the smell of chicken kabobs on the grill. It's not often that we have big gatherings in Hamden, but when we do, we always have a ton of fun. I was glad that we weren't shouting our conversations over the noise of the restaurant. Relaxing at home is hard to beat. 

Everyone had to return home on Sunday, but we were able to make a short trip into New Haven first for some breakfast, a bit of browsing at the Yale Bookstore, and a quick stop at one of my favorite places downtown: Elm City Market. It’s one of those awesome co-op grocery stores where everything is just a little nicer than a typical Stop&Shop. We all like New Haven, and we definitely make the most of our visits.

*  *  *

Sunday evening was the busiest I’ve ever seen Park Central Tavern. Because of the Yale and Quinnipiac graduations, every seat in the restaurant was booked, and of course, everyone arrived in the span of about half-an-hour. Though our head chefs Tom and Nat yelled nonstop for two hours, we successfully catered to the nearly 150 people without any catastrophes. 

A Visit From Hank

I remember what it was like to be a senior at Mt. Greylock--how it seemed that as the spring raced onwards, there were more and more excuses not to be in class. Well, I provided my best friend Hank Barrett with another excuse this past Monday. After his senior class decided to sleep over at the high school on Sunday night, Hank used the skip day to visit me. We met up at the Yale Golf Course with two of my restaurant coworkers. Over the course of the next four hours, there were plenty of good shots and bad shots, a few swear words, lots of laughs, and one memorable round of golf. I experienced the obligatory three-putt from the bottom of the six-foot swale on the ninth green, but I did manage to roll in an eighty-five foot birdie putt on the thirteenth hole. I'm glad I got to show the Yale course to Hank, because it's as unique as you'll see in New England. 

After the round, I showed Hank many other pieces of my life here in Hamden. We toured the New Haven Country Club but didn't get to play because the course was closed. Fortunately, Hank won't be far away while at Wesleyan, so I'm sure we'll be able to get out on New Haven together soon. We stopped by State St. to see the eagles' nest, and even witnessed the mama eagle feeding her baby. And we sat outside on the patio at Park Central Tavern for a well-deserved dinner. 

My favorite moment of the visit, however, was watching the sunset on top of East Rock Park. There isn't much better than looking out over the city of New Haven and the hills and forests of Connecticut as the sun descends out of sight, and sharing this with an incredible friend is something I'll remember for a long time. Seeing Hank made me happy. For one day, I could forget about everything I have to do before the summer arrives and just appreciate the things that have made Hamden my home this spring. 

Lastly, I need to wish Hank a happy eighteenth birthday. Our friendship goes all the way back to Little Red Preschool when I first moved to Williamstown, and it's been only great memories since then. I remember hours of 1-on-1 hoops in my basement, Rookie League baseball on Water Street Grill, birthday parties ranging from skiing at Brodie Mountain to court-side seats at a Celtics game, and shenanigans in Mr. C's sixth grade classroom. In middle and high school we became golf partners--often competing over eighteen or more holes at Waubeeka, where we both ended up working. And I'm so glad I chose to stick with basketball, if only to spend time with Hank. There were countless postgame hottub sessions at the Barrett household, and more often than not I ended up sleeping over. Their guest room is more fondly known as "Tommy's Room." Now we're both heading off to college, at different schools, but both in the NESCAC. I'm playing at Wesleyan on October 26th, and I know Hank will be there to watch. So after all that, enjoy being eighteen and enjoy these last few weeks of being a Mountie. I'll be home to see you graduate.

Getting Psyched For Dudley: A Day With Stich

Today is a Wednesday; grey skies here in Hamden are far from threatening but are just cool enough for second thoughts about only wearing a t-shirt. After a long Mother's Day weekend and plenty of hours logged at the restaurant, I've found this cozy day off to be a pleasant change of pace. Yesterday was exhausting, but for all the good reasons. It was a day I won't forget--a highlight of my time here in Connecticut. 

I rose early to watch the first rays of sun light fire in the clear morning sky. Donning my newly acquired New Haven CC shirt and Nike golf shoes, I set off from Fernwood Road--first a quick detour to Dunkin Donuts for a bagel and an iced coffee (always iced, no matter what time of year), and then onto the crowded Wilbur Cross parkway heading west. I was glad I got an early start, because despite the crawling traffic in Fairfield County, I found myself in Easton, CT with time to spare. There was no reason to be late for what lay ahead. I was meeting Rollie Stichweh, or "Stich," as we know him in the Storey family. Stich is one of my grandfather's closest pals, and their friendship dates all the way back to the summers they spent together as boys at Camp Dudley. My grandfather went to Williams to play soccer and basketball, and Stich became the quarterback at Army, competing against Navy's Roger Staubach. They have both done a tremendous amount for Dudley. As a Storey grandchild, I know that I'll be keeping an eye out for Stich's grandkids at camp this summer. 

I had no trouble finding the Stichweh's home in Easton, and I had the privilege of touring their beautiful place before we set off for our day of golf. Stich is a member at the Connecticut Golf Club, about which I'd heard plenty of good things. The club is slightly more exclusive than New Haven, for example, so with fewer rounds being played, the course is always in excellent condition. Stich made sure to explain how the the club was founded by the same man who helped to fund the Empire State Building. It began as a place for gentlemen to play golf, and remains true to this goal today. I noticed no frills, as it seemed all efforts went into maintaining a top-of-the-line golf course. 

Looking across the pond to the par-three eighth green carved out of the hillside 

As you can see from the photo, the course was constructed on a far from flat piece of property. I can only recall three holes without severe elevation change, and even those had fairways that tilted steeply from one side to the other. Every par three featured a downhill tee shot, with the fifth and tenth holes spilling over cliffs to reach the greens. There's something to be said for elevated tee boxes, for they certainly create exceptional views of the holes. And like Yale, as well as some of my other favorite golf courses, for most of the round there's not a house, telephone pole, or car in sight--just pure golf. Though it might not be my favorite layout ever, it was one of the best conditioned courses I've played, and for sheer fun value, playing the Connecticut Golf Club with Stich is hard to beat. 

While we were eating turkey club sandwiches and clam chowder in the clubhouse (one of the best chowders I've ever had, by the way), a member walked up to Stich to say hello and noticed the Camp Dudley logo on Stich's jacket. The member said his wife was looking into summer camp options for their eight and ten-year-old boys, and that Dudley had come up. Little did he know that he was talking to a former Camp Director and a current camp counselor who just happens to be the nephew of the Director. He was able to score a five-minute conversation about the joys of a summer at Dudley, and we also convinced him that visiting Westport while camp is in session is the best way to get a feel for the Dudley atmosphere.  

My crew from last summer out hiking in the Adirondacks

As I talked about camp, I realized that this summer can't come soon enough. I'm loving this spring in Hamden, but it's been nine months since I gave final goodbye hugs to my Dudley friends to embark on the greatest adventure of my life. I can't imagine myself now without everything I've learned and experienced in these nine months, but with only one month to go until I report to Westport, I absolutely cannot wait to be back at camp. 

What I've come to understand, however, is that every time I connect with a Dudleyite--from buddies over in Germany to longtime family friends like Stich--I keep camp alive. Right now, no campers are bunking in the cabins on the shore of Lake Champlain, but Dudley is alive all over the world. I was so fortunate to share this for a day with Stich, and hopefully we've found a new family to join the Dudley tradition. Thank you to Stich, I had a blast, and I hope to see you up in Westport this summer!

An Interview In Springfield & Dinner with Mom and Dad

Monday was an eventful day, even though it was a day off from work. I'd just finished caddying forty-five holes in two days as well as a busy Sunday night at Park Central. Though I didn't have any work commitments  I had a much more important appointment to prepare for. 

Last year I applied for the Valley Press Memorial Scholarship, but because I decided to take a gap year, I was told to wait a year and apply again when I was closer to my freshman year at Middlebury. I'm glad they made me wait. Though I resubmitted last year's application, I was able to update it with several more examples of my journalistic work in the form of blog posts. If I were on the scholarship committee, my ears would certainly perk up when I started reading about European travels, and for this reason, I'm glad I got to share my favorite blog posts with the committee. 

Apparently they were interested. I was invited as a "finalist" to interview in Springfield on Monday. Despite some car troubles, I made it to the Mercy Medical Center with time to spare. Before I could even sit down, I heard several comments from the committee of five women along the lines of "We can't wait to hear about your gap year!" I recognized that I've been talking and writing about my gap year for months now, and that the interview would be no different. When I was asked to say a little bit about myself, I was able to start with then end of my senior year of high school and go from there. I feel like the story of my gap year alone gives me a leg up on the typical contestant who goes to such-and-such high school, is the editor of his or her school newspaper, and will be graduating in a few weeks. At the very least, my story is fun. As I talked, I was able to tell stories. And at its core, that's what journalism is all about. I find out in two weeks or so whether I am selected as a scholarship recipient, but leaving the interview, I couldn't have felt better about my chances.

Though I needed no cheering up, stepping out of the meeting room to find my parents waiting put an even bigger smile on my face. We had agreed to meet for dinner, and they arrived just as I was finishing my interview. Even though they didn't have to cross any state borders, it was still a significantly longer drive from Williamstown than it was from Hamden. Soon we found ourselves out in the warm sun of downtown Springfield. It was nice enough to spend the rest of the evening outdoors, but Springfield isn't exactly the place for that. Fortunately, my dad had scoped out a nearby dinner spot--Theodore's BBQ. It was a restaurant with plenty of character, and as I began to read through my dinner options, I was glad to see a completely different lineup than what we offer at Park Central.

I've gone away three times this year; leaving has certainly become easier, but seeing family after a long stretch of separation has remained special each time we join together again. Of course, my parents meeting me for dinner in Springfield isn't quite the same as when they arrived in Germany for a week of adventures, but I appreciate any spending time with them--any time, any place. Dinner was fun. I shared thorough details about jobs at the restaurant and golf course and listened to stories from Williamstown, especially what it's been like welcoming Cindy into the Dils household. My favorite dish of the evening was the jalapeño corn fritter appetizer; my favorite moment was when my mom pulled a hard copy of the photo-book I'd created about my time in Germany with the Judsons. Earlier that day I'd sent a happy birthday email to Sebastian, who is now eight years old. I know that all of the Judson kids have grown so much since I left, but for now, I can only remember them as the nine, seven, four, and three-year-olds on the cover of the book.

The days are noticeably longer now, and as I drove back to Hamden in the setting sun, I realized how close I am to the end of my adventures. I'm so incredibly excited to return to Camp Dudley, but summers on the shore of Lake Champlain are something that I've known my entire life. This year, however, has been new to me, and because I've tried so many different things, it's remained new through to the end. It's only a week-and-a-half until I see my family again, this time with Sam and Miranda along for the ride, as everyone will visit Hamden next weekend. And after that, it's only another two weeks until I'm home for good--well, at least home long enough to pack up for Dudley and Middlebury. I think I'll have time for a few rounds at Taconic, too. 

A Few Quick Updates

Golf at Yale, A Visit From Mommom & Babo, and Caddying 45 Holes

It's been a good week. Despite a lot of work, there have been more than enough fun moments to keep me going. We're closing in on two straight weeks of blue skies and warm afternoons here in Hamden, and I can't remember a more glorious stretch of spring weather. I'm fortunate that many of my working hours are spent outside at the golf club, and as I tell the members when they ask how I'm doing that it's impossible to have a bad day when it's so nice outside. Here are details about a few of the best events from the past three days.

Thursday

On Thursday I enjoyed my first full day off (no work at either the golf course or at the restaurant) in quite some time. It was too nice to sit around or even sleep in, and fortunately, I had a golf outing with family friend Bob Ciulla planned at The Course at Yale. Joining us for our 8:30 AM tee time were two of Mr. Ciulla's regular playing partners: Ken Mackenzie, a former pitcher for the New York Mets, and John Godley, a lifetime veteran of the Yale course and author of a book detailing it's history.

The famous "Biarritz" ninth at Yale--the swale in the middle of the green is six feet deep!

I've had the fortune of growing up playing Taconic, the Williams College golf course. In all of the rankings, Taconic always finishes second to Yale for best college courses. Now Taconic is my favorite place to play golf, and I knew that Yale would have to be special to outmatch Williams's golf track. After eighteen holes at Yale Thursday morning, many memorable shots, conversations with Mr. Godley about the history of the course and the philosophy of the design, and two jaw-dropping moments when seeing nine and eighteen for the first time, I understood why Yale tops the charts. Every hole is memorable, strategic, and exacting, and though the views aren't quite as nice as those at Taconic, the individual holes are some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. It's easily the best classic course I've ever played. Plus, sharing the four hours with a few old-timers who didn't hesitate to yell at me for leaving a birdie putt short made the morning pure fun. 

Since I was already close to downtown New Haven, I used my free afternoon to visit two of our favorite food stops: Claire's Corner Copia and Gourmet Heaven. Claire's is an all-vegetarian cafe with incredible baked goods and drinks, and Gourmet Heaven is a market and deli with an endless buffet line of all types of foods. I picked up some sushi and fruit salad for dinner, and enjoyed a fabulous meal after my evening workout. It was a good day off.

Friday

I wasn't finished with spending time with Mr. Ciulla, because on Friday, my grandparents visited from Williamstown to see their friends the Ciullas, and of course, me. I showed them my home at 64 Fernwood Rd and the New Haven Country Club before leading them to the Ciulla's home, which turned out to be only a few miles away. Then the five of us went on a sightseeing drive--up to East Rock Park to look out over the city of New Haven, over to Ridgewood Rd to show off my cousin Leeza and her fiance Ben's newly purchased house, and then to Liuzzi's Specialty Italian Market. My grandfather absolutely loves Italy (hence the name "Babo"), so that was a lot of fun. I'll have to visit Italy at some point, although experiencing it with Babo would be the ultimate adventure. 

Later that evening we all rendezvoused at Park Central Tavern for dinner. I really enjoyed showing my grandparents where I've been working, and we were certainly treated well. It's fun to know the menu so well that I can describe any dish and make suggestions, but I have a hard time picking a favorite entree because they're all so good. Spending an evening at PCT with Mommom and Babo and the Ciullas was a treat, and I'm so glad they came down for a visit.

The Weekend

Today I was awake at 5:30, dressing in my new NHCC gear and rushing through a quick bowl of cereal so that I could be at the club by six. I did see a wonderful sunrise, which was perhaps the only benefit of being up so early. By seven-fifteen, we had forty-five carts staged and arranged by tee time for the Spring Member-Member tournament. The first groups went off at 7:40, but my work was far from over. I was asked to caddy for Mr. Reed and Mr. Colbert and gladly accepted, but I knew I had a long twenty-seven holes ahead of me. The tournament is arranged so that each pair plays five nine-hole matches against the other five pairs in the flight. Three matches Saturday, two Sunday, and then the winners of each flight play in the finals. Though carrying two bags for three matches was a workout, I was helped by the fact that my players were winning. I can be competitive if asked to be, so I read each putt like it was to win the Masters. We closed out our first match on the ninth hole with a clutch par putt, then dominated the second matchup. The first few holes of the last match of the day were a struggle, but we fought back to one-down with one hole to play. Unfortunately, neither could muster a birdie on the ninth and we lost for the first time. I was exhausted but glad we played so well. There's still a lot of golf left to be played, and if tomorrow goes well, we might just be competing for the championship tomorrow afternoon.