Watch Me Take The Bar
Watch Me Take The Bar
This blog, originally started as a chronicle of my taking the bar, is now a look into the mind of an attorney in solo practice in Port Clinton, Ohio.
Sunday, April 09, 2006

Michael Meditates on Mediate of the Masters

The next time you have a tough day at the office, I want you to just repeat, over and over, two words: Rocco Mediate.

Now, I've never heard of the fellow before in my life. But, apparently, he came into the final round of the Masters today one shot off the lead. And he was achieving some success -- and being followed earnestly by CBS -- until he hit the twelfth hole.

The twelfth hole is a par three, with a pond in front of the green. Rocco's first shot goes into the pond.

This is an occupational hazard of golf -- it's actually called a water hazard, come to think of it -- so Rocco stepped dutifully into the little circle of chalk so helpfully placed there as the "drop area" for those who have sunk one into the pond. You then hit from there, but add a penalty stroke.

The goal is to hit it onto the green and (one hopes) into the hole, but Rocco, for a second time, managed instead to submerge his ball in the water.

Now already two over par for the hole, Rocco decided to attack. He hit that ball HARD, and it went sailing right over the pond...and the green....and into the bunker.

This brings us to poor Rocco's fourth shot, which would have been counted as his sixth. It appears that Rocco managed to get out of the sand trap -- only to find himself back in the water.
I say "it appears" because CBS decided at that point to cut away from Rocco Mediate's Marathon Par Three out of pity (or an acknowledgment of the fact the guy was now several strokes over par for the match and had moved from might-be to has-been and finally on to definitely-never-will-be.) In fact, other than noticing that Rocco finally escaped Hole Twelve with a ten (!), they never so much as mentioned his name on the broadcast again.

So, the next time your boss comes up with some new innovation to keep you miserable, your copy machine shuts down, or your coworker can't stop blabbing on, just meditate on Mediate.

And Rocco, I don't know what became of you. I don't know if your clubs ended up in the same pond that so many of your golf balls did, but wherever you are now, good buddy, I hope you're surrounded by lots and lots and lots of empty beer bottles.

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