Author: Tim Andersen

The Nerve Of Those Guys

The Nerve Of Those Guys
By Chip-Free

I was recently approached by a potential publisher interested in my newest book, “The Last of the Truck Driving Poets”, who wanted to know what was my target audience?  Target audience please!  I have a single-digit readership, most of which is due to poor internet navigation, and he wants to know who I aim  at.  I stared him down with my best ‘Swingin’ Mr. Stevens no blinking 20 foot birdie putt look, no miss, no mess, and asked him from which planet he hailed from. In the words of the great Bugs Bunny, “What a Maroon”.

My ten-year Mr. Magoo-like laser focus has always been on the characters and and events of the Poplar Creek Men’s Club, except when it didn’t. These soulless tie wearing corporate creeps, not an ascot in the bunch, care only about their market share and nothing of our journey.  They don’t care of Cabo Nick’s struggles, the Sons of Civil Servants  vitamin V deficiency or Scott R’s handicap. It matters to them in the slightest that I haven’t paid my attorney, Blue Moon Retainer, since the 2013 Match Play.

I asked J Prez (he is young enough for a hip nickname) about the column and the importance of free press.  “Chip, they will have demands on what you write, on who and what you say,  I am against censorship, but in your case, it might help”.  I quickly dismissed our president’s comments as the folly of youth and continued on.

We at Chip believe in the free press and right to twist the facts any way we want.  It is our responsibility to present the stories of this club in a largely factual manner  whenever possible and only change the facts whenever needed.  As Randy G. would say, “Free the Presses, and pass the Coronas”.

Preparing For The Majors

Preparing for the Majors
by Big League Chip

To be a contender in The Spring Handicap, the Club Championship and the Tournament of Champions, this is the holy trinity of my new year’s resolutions.

Can I?  A question I have asked myself many times.  I believe, hope and pray I can, but can I?  What holds me back?  It’s not my upbringing.  I am the product of good, strong and right, but still I have doubts. Nature or nurture, neither defines me.  Who is the man within, confident or not?  So many unanswered questions, so few answers.

I believe, so I think, I can,  When my mind is set, I do, I can.  What limits me? Is it perception, expectations, or believing I’m not “that” good?  

Eliminate the doubt.  I can and dare to excel.  Can I reach those lofty heights I seek?  Yes, but  do I trust myself to believe I can? This is the real question.  I can!

Next month will mark the ten year anniversary of Chip on the Web.  Watch this site for all the gala activities to follow.  There’s a rumor the seventh hole will  have either a plaque placed or a beer cart parked permanently on the tee to commemorate this achievement. The book, tentatively titled, “The Brightest Bulb in a Box of Crayolas” should be out in April or May.  Remember the names have not been changed to protect the innocent (as we haven’t any).  Financial considerations are encouraged to ensure your name will be redacted.  Big Al will enforce, or should I say conduct this part of the operation (PCGC  has asked that everyone wear a mask when reading this book).

 Let The Year of Chip begin!!

There Is No Covid In The Chimney

There Is No Covid In The Chimney
By Chip Cringle

I was summoned by several senior reindeers to meet Santa at an undisclosed location.  Although I am a personal friend of the Big Fella, and have twice appeared on the Nice List (1970, 2008).  I was still subjected to a search, a blindfold, and a mid-level vodka tonic.  Security was tight.  Rudy, his top deer, explained the reasons for all the added precautions.  “These politically correct groups are bogging us down in a mountain of red tape.  One group of Amazons wants to rename the Christmas season to something called The Peak Package Experience.  Others say Santa’s beloved suit is offensive to anorexics and color blind people.

“We can’t win, Chip”, said an exhausted Rudy.  Red entered the room, ranting and raving, looking gaunt and a far cry from jolly.  He ask me to sit. Using my good judgement, I chose the high back red leather club as I suspected, correctly, that his lap and my wish list were not open today.  Sorry supermodels.  “Chip”, he said, “California has a curfew, hunters have doubled in Montana and that whack job in North Korea has nukes.  Protestors are in front of the toy shop, something to do with non sustainable lumber and sweat shops in Belize. Do I even go to Belize? RUDY!”

“Easy food giant”, I said. (I knew this would get his attention).  “You have to focus on the big picture.  Children worldwide, especially those at PCGC, have always believed in you and your good work.   Cabo Nick is adamant that all of his girlfriends, foreign or domestic, wear Santa hats year round.  This kind of devotion is felt throughout the club.  You remember ’that’ Christmas party at the Sand Bar, don’t you?”

“Chubs, you’re more essential now the ever before, get yourself together man.  First thing, upgrade your vodka.”  A belly laugh erupted that shook the walls of his hideout.  He  laughed so hard and loud, the Elf Elite, his security force, rushed into the room with their mini Uzis at the ready,  only to find a jolly fat man full of life.  

“This is going to be a great Christmas men”, Santa exclaimed, sipping on an upgraded V&T.

Merry Chipmas

Q-Tip Please

Q-TIP PLEASE
By Chip By A Nose

Championship week. The fine line between drinking champaign in a tux sipping from a slipper to waking up drunk in a dark back alley.  Putts drop, or they don’t.  Is it fate, karma, dumb luck or the golf gods rolling dice in the clouds.  Yo, no sevens.  Luck be a three on 18.

What is it that makes a champion?  Is it practice, grit, a new girlfriend, or more likely, something between our ears.  Q-Tip please.  Why does the magic from the range go south is such a hurry?  Is it cosmic energy, or a comic enema in a two part play, front and back? (If I knew, I would sell my books, instead of giving them away)  

Thirty six opportunities to show this course who is boss, bring it to its knees  and rise up  triumphantly with fist in air, nodding to the craps players, I hit my number.  Sky Masterson. Jimmy The Greek, Damon Runyon and all the other prognosticators of chance have charted the horses.  Will the bookies foretell the right man in the saddle? It won’t be determined until the first notes of “The Call To Post” and  only after the photo finish. This is Championship week, so boys, ride your games hard. 

Good Luck!