We loaded up our clubs and luggage into 4 vehicles after dinner and headed south for Myrtle Beach.  The ride from Northern Virginia was going to take about 6 hours and we were all pumped to be heading towards what my buddies called Las Vegas East.  They called Myrtle Beach Las Vegas East because like Vegas, what happened in Myrtle Beach would stay in Myrtle Beach.

They spent the majority of the ride down talking about golf with a good chunk of time dedicated to the guys making fun of my Knight clubs, golf swing and blisters.  They were all sharing old golf stories, the just missed hole in ones, the impossible shots they pulled off, etc and I just listened as I had nothing to contribute.  They all had great passion for the game and remember feeling out of place since I was really going there for the night life.  The more they talked about golf, the more excited and nervous I got about it.  These guys were all pretty decent golfers and I was lucky if I could hit a ball in the air 30 yards, I thought to myself this is going to be a long trip.

The conversations had waned until we reached South Of The Border.  For those of you that have never seen it, SOTB is a Mexican themed nirvana for those who like cheesy neon lights and stores.  The place is lit up and filled with touristy shops, restaurants and fireworks.  It also meant that Myrtle Beach was close, really close.   We got to our condo's, unpacked, had a few beers and went to sleep.  We had a 7:30 am tee time and a full nights worth of activities planned.  I didn't sleep much that night, worried that I'd make a fool of myself on the course.

The next morning we went to breakfast and I was really considering not playing but the guys were supportive and convinced me to give it a try.  I thought to myself, who knows, maybe I'll be a natural.  I'll never forget standing at that first tee, I was part of the first group out and the rest of the guys were all hanging out, joking around and having fun.  I had never hit my driver during my two range sessions so I was very nervous.  I put the tee in the ground and could barely get the ball to stay on the tee.   I addressed the ball, took a big backswing, started my downswing (I'm pretty certain my eyes were closed) and whiffed.  "Strike One" followed by laughter was shouted out along with some advice.  Even more nervously I swung a second time, "Strike Two", more laughter and advice.  Let's just say if I was playing baseball I'd have struck out twice on that first tee.  I was told to just pick up my ball and drop it near one of the other guys, which I did with great relief.

My golf performance throughout the rest of the trip didn't improve much from that first tee box.  I hit a few good iron shots and putts but needless to say I spent most of my time carrying my ball from one location on the course to the next.   We had a blast after golf which helped me forget how poorly I played and the guys were patient no matter how bad I played.  I laughed at the all jokes they made about my golfing ability and clubs, because I knew they were right, I sucked at a sport I'd made fun of all my life

South of The Border at night, neon nirvana.