Byron Nelson Round One: “There Will Be Blood Booze.”
We don’t know who Anthony Pulido is. But a couple weeks ago, out of the blue, the guy sent Eric a hysterically profane e-mail, demanding that we let him cover the EDS Byron Nelson Championship — by which he meant the newly energized Pavilion — for FrontBurner. Who are we to stand in the way of citizen journalism? So we armed Anthony with press credentials, and cover it he did. He titled his round one report “There Will Be Blood Booze.” Before you jump, a warning: adult language ahead!
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There Will Be Blood Booze!
This year’s biggest attraction of round one at the EDS Byron Nelson was not a top-20 golfer or a recent Masters Champion. It was 12-ounce cans of alcohol being sold all over the course. The first bloody mary was poured right around 9 a.m. yesterday, and by 2:30 p.m. besottedness had begun to take hold of the Nelson Championship. As I made my way down the 17th green, back toward the Pavilion you could see such sights as 4-packs of beer being sold from every concession stand. Sample exchange between a man and a woman:
“F*ck the Lemon Chills, baby. They got beer and canned mojitos!”
“Ooooh! Them mo-jee-tos look good, babe. Get me one!”
This same couple could be seen staggering their way into the Pavilion hours later, only to begin relentlessly shaking it to light rock covers of the ’70s that were being strummed by a bearded man with a muffled voice that carried no farther than 20 feet. “I think those are the chords to ‘Hotel California,’ but I can’t really say that I can make out the words, bro,” one man said to his IT consultant buddies in their mid-30s. The suburban techies then proceeded to debate the “gayness” and “machismo” of one another based on the shows they watched. “F*ck off. You’re gay for watching American Idol.” “No, no. YOU are gay for watching The Bachelor.” I guarantee these same men will all be reading Arthur Goes to Camp to their 4-year-old sons and daughters in Plano by 9 p.m.
Another man in his late 40s, wearing a red tank top and jean shorts, confessed to me in a strong and slurred Southern accent: “Hey, man, I gonna be real honest witcha, brother. I don’t give two sh*ts about golf. I came here to scope out the wool.” Then he said: “Like I told my wife: baby, it don’t matter where I get my appetite, as long as I eat at home!”
To further intensify the besottedness, there is a VIP section of the Pavilion this year, where there is an open bar that serves — well, whatever you want. Most guys where drinking double scotch and double whiskeys, while cougars and gold-diggers in 4-inch heels chugged frozen margaritas they could barely hold onto after their 9th one. Then the coup de grace occurred when a 300-pound man, who had finally bought enough booze for two girls a third of his age, began dancing with said girls to “Margaritaville.”
As I made my way out of the Championship grounds late in the evening, I guarantee that 60 percent of the drivers could not pass a field sobriety test. I heard one muscle-laden fellow in a $90 shirt shout: “Never mind my swaying balance, a*shole! Where are my keys? Let’s go to a f*ckin’ titty bar!” I watched which way he and his friends turned, and I zoomed as fast as I could in the other direction.
Ryan Moore, Mathew Goggin, and Eric Axley all shot 3-under 67s and were the leaders in the clubhouse. – Anthony Pulido
38 Comments to “Byron Nelson Round One: “There Will Be Blood Booze.””
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A man in a red tank and jorts is a man after my own heart.
“F*ck the Lemon Chills, baby. They got beer and canned mojitos!”
I want that quote on a t-shirt.
Aside from the last sentence and the “Mojito in a can”, this seems like an accurate description for the past 8 years +/- a comment on the humidity and heat.
….I remeber when the Byron was more of a “214 boutique” event, now it has become the “Big Box Store” equivalent of golf event ahh…. those were the days.
I’ll wait for the Colonial.
Byron Nelson would be so proud.
Sounds like a great place for a sobriety checkpoint, eh Trey?
That, my friends, is journalistic gold.
Ironically, Scope out the Wool opened for Jimmy Buffet at Nokia last summer.
Quote:
Another man in his late 40s, wearing a red tank top and jean shorts, confessed to me in a strong and slurred Southern accent: “Hey, man, I gonna be real honest witcha, brother. I don’t give two sh*ts about golf. I came here to scope out the wool.” Then he said: “Like I told my wife: baby, it don’t matter where I get my appetite, as long as I eat at home!”
Holy cow, I think I know that man. And his name is Billy Coe.
If the golfers won’t play here, we might as well turn the Byron into Phoenix-in-April. Hell, it sounds like it’s 75% of the way there.
Ladies and gentlemen, the PGA train is now approaching the NASCAR station…
I, too, attended said “golfing event” yesterday. I apparently went for different reasons than 80% of the other patrons (read corporate automatons and gold-digging barbie doll replicas). I love golf. It’s just in my blood. I was truly excited to see how the course changes would affect the players, and I was really happy that there would only be play on the TPC course this year, instead of having to split time course-hopping to see all my favorite players.
I stood with my wife directly behind the driving range for more than a hour pointing out each golfer, what his history was, the strengths of his game and pondering what some of the sponsor stylists were thinking when they decided what their golfers would wear for the first round. For those of you keeping score at home, Ryan Moore has a really cool hat and John Daly’s clothing line will probably sell very well at Winn Dixies and Love’s Truck Stops all across the Southern United States.
We planned out our day like two sale-seeking women at 5 a.m. the day after Thanksgiving. Hang out by the driving range while my wife patiently listens to my mind-numbing golf talk, then on to the putting green to watch some of the best putters in the game go through their pre-round routines. After that, we would sit on the hill behind the first hole (you can see the second green from there as well) and watch the threesome of Sergio Garcia (who spoke to me on the driving range — okay, he asked me to please move out of his way and stop talking to his caddy, but he DID talk to me), Justin Leonard, and Adam Scott play holes 1 and 2. Then we could head to the Chairman’s Club to partake of some free food and beverages and stake out a reclining position on the hill behind the 17th green to watch the havoc being wreaked by the gusting winds on the signature par-3 hole.
And then it happened. A sudden punch in the gut from my good friend, Mr. Reality. Let me just say that I have never been more embarrassed to be from Dallas in all my life. I wish they would move this tournament to Abilene after some of the antics I saw play out yesterday. On countless occasions the golfers had to back off their putts or approach shots because the ****** close by were hooting and hollering too loud about some “hot piece of tail” that happen to walk by. (Side note: apparently it is comfortable to wear a strapless, 10-inch, above-the-knee, form-fitting stripper outfit with 4-inch heels to an outdoor golf event. Who knew?) It was all I could do to maintain my composure in several of these situations. If you want to grab-a** and tell embellished, over-the-top stories to your ***** co-workers who are just as drunk as you are, that’s what the Pavilion is for! But the course itself should be reserved for those who truly appreciate the game and its best players in action.
Needless to say, I enjoyed the opportunity to watch some of the game’s up and coming talents hit the ball with skill and precision in less than perfect conditions. My wife says she also had fun tuning me out, using the “nice” bathrooms in the Chairman’s Club area, getting some sun and marveling at the new lows women will stoop to just to be noticed by a group of ****** who are so drunk they think they get to keep a ball if it’s hit into the gallery (true story). I must add that the Men in Red Pants did a great job picking up after said ****** and the police presence did a good job of corralling the truly inebriated.
After my first experience at the new Byron event, I have a few humble suggestions (that should be put into effect immediately). Keep the new course changes. Keep the stadium seating around the 17th and 18th greens. Move the event date a few weeks back so it’s not right between the Masters and Player’s Championships. Get rid of the newly-implemented rule to sell alcohol all over the course. And, finally, mandate that all patrons must pass a general golfing rules and knowledge quiz before being able to attend.
Oh, and keep the above-mentioned stripper replica outfit. I might find some use for that in the future.
If I ever drink a canned mojito, I ask someone, anyone, to please toss me a grenade with pin pulled.
I’m sure Josh is very popular at parties…
For the first couple of graphs, I thought I was reading Hunter Thompson
Will - you have no idea. If I have a little lead time, sometimes I’ll bring my own projector and show Nicklaus’ 1986 Masters win over and over. Add that with my love of drinking canned mojitos and you, my friend, have got a kick-a** good time on your hands…
For Those Who Care: Josh is one of the funniest guys who works at D. He does something for our online group that I don’t understand. He is also so insanely, rabidly into golf that it’s a bit hard to believe.
In other words, Josh is popular at parties — as long as you don’t get him talking golf.
I think Josh has never been to the byron before. Times are still the same.
“I stood with my wife directly behind the driving range for more than a hour pointing out each golfer, what his history was, the strengths of his game . . . .”
That, Honey, was the last straw. Please expect a call from my divorce lawyer. I’m going with the canned mojito crowd.
In His Name,
Your Wife
I’ve never understood why pro golfers don’t use earplugs to prevent being disturbed or distracted when they are about to swing?
Isn’t it supposed to rain?
I guess you’re right Puddin’Tane. With the type of women that are attending the Byron Nelson this year, and Pacman Jones now in town as a Cowboy, it’s only a matter of time before he’s up to his usual antics.
If Josh wants to see “…those who truly appreciate the game and its best players in action” then why on earth did he go to The Byron?
I love the crowd-watching there. Love the tarted-up girls, the guys with red faces. So long as people take real sporting events, like the NFL draft, seriously, I have no problem with the shenanigans. (P.S.: This has very little to do with losing big to Josh in The Master office pool.)
LOVE Josh’s write-ups…
Tim, why are you using outsiders to write columns like these when you have talent like Josh sitting write under your nose? You guys should turn this dude loose a little bit. Love the write up.
sitting “right” under your nose?
SB, thanks for the vote of confidence, but the techie work pays the bills. Playing golf, thinking about golf, studying the game of golf, and writing about golf is just for fun.
The blog posters and people who contribute to FB and the “print product” are really in a league of their own. But again, thanks for the kind words.
Where have I been? When did we start calling it “The Byron” instead of “The Nelson”?
I guess if you are going to grab one of those Byron Mojito’s you could go have a nice B.M.
Leanne, perhaps you’ve been under someone in the Pavilion? It’s been The Byron for years.
nevermind the whores - where’s the blimp?
It’s called “The Nelson”. Never “The Byron.” I would be offended.
- The Fake Dead Byron Nelson
Drunken ********** and silicone skanks are the backbone of Dallas’ economy. God bless them.
(And good job, Mr Pulido.)
I wonder if golf-crazy Josh and pavilion-crazy Anthony went to this event together who would get on whose nerves more? My vote goes to Anthony punching Josh in the face after one to many green-in-regulation comments.
Pshyeah OH MY GOD! I just got back from tanning in addison and read this. I wear striped shirts everyday and live off of canned mojitos! Just kidding, that was hilarious! Can’t wait to read tomorrows acount of the TPC LOL OMG.
I’ve heard of this so called pavillion. It was described to me as a modern day “Sodom and Gomorrah”.
“Look at the rack on that one! Oops…that’s John Daly.”
Congratulations Tony on writing a published piece of literature. Please take me on your next trip… I want to be Benicio Del Toro.
PS Good Writing… and thanks for not inviting me to go look at the hot tail… Seriously they make a canned mojito now? That’s crazy, person must be a millionaire.
Good piece (no pun intended) my friend!
My first PGA tourney ever. Drove 2 hours to watch and brought 3 teens from a local high school golf team. I thought it was about golf, but obviously its a huge social event. It was humorous watching the mini-me corporate clones and the (i have to admit) extremely gorgeous yet somewhat akward and out of place women. I think maybe 20% of us watched the game while the other 80% watched each other. About 4pm Friday I told the youngsters to pack it up and leave as DFWs ‘best’ socialites were coming on strong and the alcohol was even stronger, and we left. I just watched the final play of Sunday as I typed this sentence. My view is better from my television believe it or not!
enjoyed the writing.