I woke up this morning to the smell of bacon. The strong smell of almost burning bacon. Teddy was preparing his famous pancakes for the varsity golf team before sectionals today. I resisted the urge to get up and get involved. I left Teddy a note last night letting him know that if he needed my help, he should wake me up. He didn't wake me: frying pig fat did.
I strained to hear them, but I couldn't detect a voice or a clang or a sizzle. I tell you five guys have never made less noise. My plan was to come down in time to wish them all lots of luck and low scores, but I just missed them. They left a still standing house. The mostly clean kitchen was a bonus.
Usually they go out for breakfast before meets. It's their ritual, but this morning they were up before any establishment was open. These breakfasts are something I'm pretty sure Teddy looks forward to almost as much as the 18 holes that follow. I always imagine them sitting in a booth next to a foursome of gray haired golfers who meet every week before they play 9. These old guys reminisce about birdies and eagles, and geez they've known each other since they were teens, and they used to shoot 70s too.
This is going to be a tough contest for them today. It's a long shot that they'll make it to state, but it couldn't happen to a nicer group of guys if they do. Teddy was mentioned as a favorite to qualify individually. That would be wonderful, but even I've learned that golf is fickle and there are very few gimmes. If he plays well today, he'll advance. If not, he'll be at the course tonight working out kinks and fixing things. Either way...I'm proud.
I just hope he makes me his team-famous pancakes one day soon! I'll pass on the bacon.
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