When my cousin Nathan planned our family golf tournament, he decided to call each team of 8 after some of my grandpa's most commonly used endearments: Corkers, Pips and Dandies. He would call those he loved most, enjoyed most, thought of most or cared for most by these names. Thankfully, I heard them often.
I was a Corker. And we rocked it.
Our tee time was at 7:30 which is extremely early for a crowd that is known to stay up very very late when we are all together. Somehow we all stumbled out of bed and onto the golf course on time just as all the carts were being pulled up for spin around the course.
My cousin Amy, who surprised us from California, showed up with a box of clubs. A box. With duct tape.
We like to keep it classy.
These were our fans. Technically they were every team's fans but I like to think they were rooting for us the most.
This was our course. It has been here for 400 years. Or something like that. It is literally located in the middle of the prairie.
And this is my team. My mom, my aunt Patricia, Anthony and Char, cousins Jenny and Charley, my uncle Mike, cousin Becky and yours truly.
Char didn't play...she just enjoyed the spectacle that was our family's tournament.
Jenny, Charley and Mike are assessing the green.
Mike as the lone ranger. Even though I know I carried our team, I do like to give him credit for a few good shots.
I mean, I like to give him credit for basically winning the tournament for us.
I get those confused sometimes.
Here is Mike teeing up to hit.
And here is yours truly trying not to miss and get a face full of prairie dirt.
Jenny and Charley with my mom and Patricia in the background.
Sometimes you run into obstacles on the course...like tractors. Wild tractors are native to this part of Oklahoma.
Sisters: Jenny and Becky. I grew up with these two and served as a bridesmaid in both of their weddings. I like them a lot.
Once again, it was time to assess the green.
Cart buddies. Beck can really drive a mean cart.
After all of the teams played nine holes (we played 12 just to show off), we headed to the club house for hamburgers and air conditioning. We were also eager to hear who won. Can't you tell that Grey is anxious to hear too?
And there you have it: victory for the Corkers! I accepted our trophy and thanked the Academy. We were 5 under par which is the lowest number I will ever have. EVER.
It was a fabulous morning in so many ways. My grandpa would have loved every minute of it. I even wore one of his golf polos, hoping some of his skill would rub off. Unfortunately it didn't. But his memory was everywhere we looked. We only wish we would have done this with him instead of for him.