Louisville and The Travelers Assistant

Our flight to Louisville earlier in the week was a few hours late and we arrived at 3am on Wednesday. By the time we got to the hotel and dropped our bags off it was nearly 4am. We were starving and the only joint open was a "White Castle." WC is a fast food restaurant chain located primarily in the midwest. They are famous for their sliders. These are mini-hamburgers that come in 4-packs, 10-packs, and 20-packs "gut buster" sizes.

The four of us didn't think twice about heading out of the hotel to stroll the streets of downtown Lulvul (this is how the locals pronounce Looeyville) in the middle of the night.

The front desk gave us instructions to the nearest White Castle but we weren't paying attention and "wandered" outside when we were approached by a self-proclaimed "Travelers Assistant." Black guy, 4am, dressed in his street clothes, bad teeth...the works....you get the picture. I thought to myself, "Who of us is going to live to tell this story? Who will comfort the families?"

Wade was happy to engage the guy in conversation while Davey, Mike and I increased our footspeed and crossed the street hoping he would wander off but he was like a puppy and wouldn't leave Wade alone. He was going on and on about he was indeed a "Travelers Assistant" and liked to "Hep people find their away around downtown.....y'all looking for the strip clubs?" He also said that he was getting a late start today for whatever reason and just really hit the streets.

Wade said, "Hey man, it's 4am and you are just getting started?" Our new black friend stammered, "I know, I know....the wife...." There he goes, blamin' the little woman for his late start to extorting money from strangers through intimidation and spirited banter.

This guy was so full of shit but he smelled of danger so I had my head on a swivel. The other guys in our group? No so much. They needed me.

And then the "Travelers Assistant" had more questions...

"Where y'all staying?"

"What are you here for?"

I turned around, looked him in the eye and said, "FBI meeting."

"Oh..."

Mike pulled me over, and whispered in my ear, "Good one." You know, I do what I can do. It's hard always being the guy to come up with the clever lines but I somehow manage to do this. It's a gift.

Tyree followed us INTO the White Castle. Wade was STILL talking to him while Davey, Mike and I were peering around the corner while we fill up our soda's. Wade slapped him 5 bucks and said to get some food.

He said, "Man I need at least 15 bucks." Davey chipped in another 5. I had enough of this guy's bullshit and being tired, hungry, cranky, and now angry, I stiffed him as did Mike so he wandered off into the night with 10 dollars.

After he left a couple of guys wearing their hooded sweatshirts pulled over their heads showed up at the Castle and I had the feeling that they weren't as harmless as the guy who extorted the bucks out of my generous, but naive golf pals. We finished off the last of the burgers and onion rings (surely we would not sleep even if we tried) and plotted our run back to the hotel. Davey was in the lead, and Wade pulled up the rear. It's sort of like running from wild animals: All you have to do is run faster than the slowest guy. I have a good first step and am 100% confident that I would be Wade in a footrace on any surface. We exited a side door of the Castle and serpentined across the street and when the hotel was in sight, Davey was gone. The trail of pee barely visable.

Golf in Kentucky was great. Tall green trees, green hills, green fairways, ponds, streams, rivers, deer, hawks, and all sorts of other cool stuff. We walked A LOT.

We played two excellent courses; Hurstbourne CC on Wednesday, and legendary Valhalla for 36 on Thursday. Valhalla, to me anyway, is a better golf course than Pebble, Spyglass or Spanish Bay and is probably top 5 that I've played in terms of a pure golf experience (Torrey Pines, Firestone, PGA West and Olympic are all also excellent). Take away the ocean and the mansions, and Pebble Beach is a good course, not the Pebble Beach we know today. But that's like saying if the Queen had balls she'd be King. She doesn't and Pebble sits where Pebble sits....it's awesome.

Valhalla has a midwestern sensibility to it. No gimmicks. No blind shots. No Scandia-type putting greens. You get what you can see. Navigate the length, the rough, the traps, the trees, the water hazards, and you can shoot a decent score. Davey beat me by three shots on the gross but with the handicap adjustment my net score bested him by 6. He gets quiet when he doesn't score as well as he thinks he should. This concerns me.

Davey is a dear friend and I am fortunate to have an excellent business realtionship with him. We enjoy a wonderful, funny, competitive and spirited friendship - we do all sorts of impressions (verbal and physical AND both), we laugh at the same things, and act like we're 17 sometimes.... He's great at what he does, has a lovely and wickedly funny wife and beautiful family that includes 2 boys, 2 girls and a super nice dad. Here's the catch: If Davey shot better golf scores, it would probably mean he spends too much time away from the people that love him. I'd rather have him shoot the higher (but still great) scores, and know that his family sees alot of him too. It's called balance.

LOUISVILLE DINING TIP: Pat's Steak House is a gem of a restaurant that will take a GPS to locate. It's better than Morton's or Del Frisco's.....be sure to bring cash because that's all they take.

And try the frog legs too.....they are tasty.

It's true. Look it up.

Burp