No. 3

Tiger Woods Not-a-Robot Case Exhibit 2.

That part with the plastic explosives really scares me.

No. 4

This outtake was so classic that they made it the actual commercial. In the original -which no one remembers- Tiger threw a golf ball at the guy. LAME.

Now I've read some criticisms of Tiger being a corporate robot (Jim Rome - "The golf course looks good, my golf swing feels good, I like my chances"). This is Exhibit I in his defense.

No. 5

She really does play golf...that commerical ain't lyin'.

What are the best non-golf commercials involving golf?

A thought I had the other day during my epic no-sleep session. What I mean is, commercials that aren't selling golf products yet reference golf or star golfers. That means no FootJoy sign boy, and no Nike Golf. What follows is a quick list.

I'm Still Awake

What the hell is "midnight oil" anyway, and when was the last time anyone actually burned any?

So it's almost 3:30 in the morning, and it feels like 4:30. Obviously, I'm still up. Sometimes when writing is your profession involves writing the itch to stay up all night can randomly strike. Hence, you reading this.

Despite my working at this late hour, I am not exempt from the random things that pop into your head at this time of the night. You know, brain droppings that would normally appear during REM sleep.

Case in point, the song "I Need More Allowance" by the fictional band The Beets from the Nickelodeon cartoon Doug is stuck in my head. I've listened to it at least 20 times in a row. Not lying.

I'm on my fourth cup of coffee, by the way. More later, probably maybe.

I Was Born in the BackSeat of a GreyHound Bus

Lord I was born a ramblin' man.

I wasn't able to live-blog my epic Huntsville-Fredericksburg-Austin-Fredericksburg via Sugar Land roadtrip for the Joe Black Texas Cup matches at Boot Ranch. To make it up, here is a running diary of what happened.

So I drove back from Huntsville straight to St. Laurence to catch the 11 a.m. mass, then back to my condo. There, I spent an hour and a half sorting through mail and packing before hitting I-10 West to Kerrville, where I was planning on spending the night at my grandparents before heading to the tournament in the morning.

All told, it was a good 6 hours of driving. Along the way I had a realization: there is no logic to the fluctuation of gas prices within the State of Texas. Here's an example, I saw a Shell station at $2.65 just off of 59 in Richmond. Despite being off of a major thoroughfare near a big city, pretty reasonable. Well, when I went a back way to I-10 so I could stop in and see my parents I saw that the price at an Eagle Lake Shell was $2.80. Eagle Lake is not exactly a bustling metropolis. Later that week I saw two Shell stations in Dripping Springs a block apart (not kidding) with a difference of 11 cents between them.

We are living in crazy times, folks.

By the way, there is a best gas station in Texas. It's the Buc-ee's in Luling. Anyone who has driven to San Antonio on I-10 knows what I'm talking about. Best restrooms, best fountain drinks, best selection of snacks...you can buy everything from a deer stand to a replica of the Texas Declaration of Independence. And it's a Shell, where I get a rebate. There's no comparision.

I always see signs for Jim's Restaurants. Have you ever eaten there? Me neither.

Going through Live Oak on I-10 I saw an ad for the "New and Improved" Northwest Herald, a local paper. There was a sample of the alleged improved publication, which proudly featured riveting stories such as "ASPCA Rescues Animals" (Really?) and "Area Students Prepare for SATs" (That's never happened before). You would think they would use the edition from a more exciting news day as an example.

In Kerrville I watched the Red Sox win their second title in three years. Think about this: 10 years from now, people my age won't remember the Red Sox as being a cursed franchise. Weird.

And now, the Cup matches. The Joe Black Texas Cup is an annual Ryder Cup-style competition between the PGA pros from North Texas and South Texas. The Cup is named for Black, a native Texan and former PGA of America president. He's the godfather of PGA pros, read more about him in the next edition.

We have a Brad Lardon sighting! Houston Links' friend and Miramont's Director of Golf was playing in his first Cup matches. He's been one of the best playing professionals in Texas for years, but his classification was either touring pro or assistant pro. Now that's he's a director of golf, it's on.

Houston Links has a feature on Boot Ranch, the tournament host, and interview with founder and architect Hal Sutton. Be sure it pick it up. Kenny Hand was telling me how spectacular the course was, and he was right. Here's a picture of No. 17, a par 3.

And here's two of the pros putting on the 10th green.

I talked to native Fredericksburgite (?) and tournament volunteer Bob Henke, who was just blown away by the luxury and the beauty of the course. Bob looks to be in his 70s, and talked about exploring this same land as a kid. He's a member at the other course in Fredericksburg, Lady Bird Johnson Golf Course. I've played it, it's quite nice. Bob's father was the mayor when they built the first nine holes at Lady Bird. He recalls that his dad wanted to build a second nine, but the city fathers objected to fronting the money to buy the land.

"They said, 'Goulf vill nev-are take auff in Fredericks-bourg,'" Bob said.

"Then LBJ became president, tourism went through the roof, and the same land they could've paid $1,300 an acre for ended up costing them $11,000 an acre."

Boot Ranch's whole theme is "Casual Elegance, Texas Style." They have Western art and Texas-style decorations everywhere. As you can see, they even have a statue of my Dad, Joe Blair, checking his e-mail.

More later.