Cyder Cup Ate - Day 1
For the Messengers, we have our very own Bostonian Swede, she's sweeter than a Swedish Fish, and spicier than Boston Clam Chowder, the incomparable Miss Carol
inflames47, along side the one and only, Canadia's own British transplant (because they were out of livers), Nigel
WutpaTheir worthy opponents hail from the Great States of United, for the Assassins, our very own favorite ass-men, Marcus
cobrachicken and Bing
mbuengerThose who remember our 6th Cyder Cup will recall how Tensions were high in the Santapaula-Lindbergh camp, when both were on the same team, and the team scores were very, very tight. The stage was set as Charlie was taking on Bing in singles play, and Carol was off her meds. To wit (excerpt from the actual report):
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From Cyder Cup VI
Scene: The Lindbergh-Santapaula sitting room.
Carol is furiously scrubbing mud stains from yellow taffeta, cursing the name of The Bank under her breath in language not suitable for this report.
"Charlie, if you don't take down that scrawny Striker Bing, I'm cutting you off, and this time you'd better believe I REALLY MEAN IT THIS TIME!"
"Carol, my precious flower, my devoted bride, my noodle cup, my butterscotch chip cookie, my..."
"DON'T YOU BUTTERSCOTCH COOKIE ME!!!! JUST GO OUT THERE AND DESTROY THAT LITTLE PUNK!!!"
"Yes, punkin'. As you wish..."
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As you can imagine, it didn't go well for Carol, as evidenced by this other excerpt, with the match coming down to the last hole.
>DEEP BREATH<
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Cyder Cup VI
Sure enough, Charlie went eagle-birdie on holes 15 and 16, which Mark could only card birdie-par. The Strikers' lead had vanished, along with any hopes of a miracle upset. The crowd began to disperse, and the train whistle died out.
From the press box, a sudden ear piercing cry: "@!$# YEAH, CHARLIE!!!! THAT'S THE WAY, MY SUGAR DADDY! NOW BRING THE WIN HOME TO MAMA!!!"
Charlie's zen unbroken, he proceeded to drop another routine bird on the 17th. "Yeah, I'm back, b%&es...". But Mark was unfazed, and matched Charlies birdie with one of his own. "Charlie, no matter what happens, this has been one for the ages. But win or lose, you have to go home with that..." and he nodded toward the press box. "Good luck, my friend."
Both golfers struck perfect tee shots from the box on 18. Being away, Mark laid his approach at the foot of the green and got a perfect roll, which barely lipped out. But it caught a bit of downslope, and rolled another 20 feet past the pin. Charlie worked his magic, played just enough backspin with the 9-iron, and landed a beauty of a shot within the 5 foot circle. "I think I've got this, mate," he said as he confidently strode past Mark.
Again, cacophony from the press box overcame the cheering of the crowd: "CHARLIE!!! IF YOU BLOW THIS, YOU CAN SAY GOOD-BYE TO THIS BOSTON TEA PARTY!!!" Everyone in attendance turned toward Carol's voice and saw that she had removed her top and was free-wheeling in the wind. A collective gasp filled the air.
Mark was wide eyed. Charlie just shook his head. Putting his arm around Mark's shoulders, he calmly and quietly muttered, "don't say I've never done anything for you, boy-o". He then lined up his easy birdie putt, and proceeded to jam the ball well off the mark, coming to a stop 30 feet from the hole.
"CHARLES LINDBERGH!!!! WHAT THE EVERLOVING @!$# WAS THAT??? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR @!$#ING MIND??? THAT'S AN AUTOMATIC BIRD FOR...."
Carol's tirade was suddenly cut off as two men in white jumpsuits wrapped her up tight in a straitjacket and stuffed an ether-soaked towel into her mouth. She quickly faded into oblivion as the crowd watched on in silence.
"You're welcome, Mark," said Charlie in a professional tone. "Now take that which is rightfully yours. You've earned the tie."
Dumbfounded, and in no condition to drop a 20 foot birdie putt, Mark decided to play it safe and make the best lag putt he could muster.
Just then, in his scrambling mind, Mark heard the voice of Jim Nance.
JN: "Nope. I've had enough. I'm out of here for real"
Then Jar Jar Binks
JJB: "Meesa really think yousa're goen to maken disa putt and win da hole thing, Beng!"
Then Jack Sparrow
JS: "If you please, mate, we have an accord for your victory putt, savvy?"
Then James Brown
JB: "OOWWWW!! TOO HOT IN THE HOT TUB!!!"
Mark shook his head furiously, took a deep breath, and let loose the putt.
30 feet away, at the elevated press box, Carol came to... "LET ME GO, YOU @!$#ING BASTARDS!!!"
Mark's putt rolled toward the cup, just like he planned. With perfect lag, the ball came to rest on the lip of the pin, leaving Mark with the tappiest of all tap-ins, which would secure the tie with Charlie, putting him in the books along side the greatest golf matches in history.
Suddenly, a tremendous crashing sound came from the direction of the press box. In her attempts to free herself from her captors, Carol manage to break free from guards, but in doing so, tumbled over the ledge of the opening, and fell 25 feet to the ground. This caused just enough of a vibration in the earth to make Mark's ball start to ever so slightly move from it's spot. As all present watched in stunned silence, the ball made one more quarter turn and fell into the cup with the most satisfying plunk ever heard by human ears. Bing had the birdie.
As the crowd erupted, storming the green to surround Mark, and hoist them upon their collective shoulders, Charlie just smiled wryly. Turning his back on the celebration, he strolled over to Carol, set her free from her bindings, covered her exposed body with a windbreaker, and said gently, "Come on, love of my life. Let's go home."
Carol gazed longingly into Charlie's eyes. "Did you win, sweetheart?" Charlie smiled sweetly in silence.
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Back to today, we revisit the same Swedish cottage, this time Carol on new meds, and having to play in a doubles match against, you guessed it, Bing.
(for sake of brevity, I will say that neither Carol nor Bing had an effect on the outcome, except for having carded the fateful bogey or par when birdie was needed*).
*which was not entirely true.
At any rate, this one was a back and forth affair until holes 3 and 4 when Carol, distracted by Marcus' lukewarm cup of Tim Horton's Tea, a favorite of Britadians, missed easy birdie putts, giving the Marcks a 2 hole lead. But Nigel sabotaged the next hole by putting a pink packet of artificial sweetener into Nigel's tea, and distracted Bing, who was hoping it was actually cocaine. The gambit worked as the Messengers pulled to within 1.
After halving the 6th, disaster struck as the Assassins struck to take two of the next 3 holes and restore the two hole lead at the turn.
Off the 9th green Charlie was waiting patiently for Carol and sweetly beckoned her over to him. He lovingly gazed deeply into her bloodshot eyes and quietly whispered... "you're off your meds again, aren't you?" "Oh, Charlie...," Carol sighed, "I never started them..." Charlie pulled her closer and drew a breath, then into her ear, he shouted, "Carol!!! IF YOU BLOW THIS, YOU CAN SAY GOOD-BYE TO THIS SWEDISH FISH!!!"
Carol was nonplussed. NIgel was slightly amused. Marcus was not listening. Bing was terrified. Charlie always scared him, knowing that he still owed Charlie a favor for causing their tie in TBC CC VI, as recounted above. Sweat stains were starting to form in his fluorescent yellow Fruit of the Looms.
Bing's perspiration disaster made him lose his nerve, his touch, his mojo and his wits, as the Messengers took 3 of the next 5 holes, en route to a one hole lead with 4 to play. Charlie blew Carol a silent kiss, and waved a Tim Horton's Tea bag in the direction of Nigel, knowing that soon, all would be right with the world.
Friends, what happened then will live in the annals (anals? annuls?) of Cyder Cup history, at least until CC IX. Down a hole, Bing quickly stripped down to his skivvies and rid himself of the sweaty briefs, bearing only a Disney Marathon commemorative running shirt and a smile. Nigel, who had once served in the Navy during "The Big One", often thought to be an international war, but was rather Subway's failed 3-foot long whole kielbasa and knockwurst sandwich, which had given Nigel the worst ED ever in his life, until very recently when he started dating Taylor Swift's lesser known older sister, Notso. Notso Swift.
Sentence fragments aside…
Nigel missed the tap in birdie on #15, giving the hole to the Assassins, knotting things up. Marcus held sway by parring out the last 3, as did Carol, but in the end, it was the fabulous Mr. Bing who birdied the final four holes in succession, to end the match.
Was Charlie disappointed? Oh, you bet he was. But he's Charles F'in Linbergh, and he's married to Carol, so in our book, he'll always be a winner. Plus, Carol gets that sweet, sweet Swedish Fish any time she wants it.
Back at the bar, Nigel met up with the Marcks. "Is Carol always that off base?" Bing said, "I'll field this one, since you're kind of new, Marcus. Yeah, Carol is a bit strange, but she cooks a mean rump roast, and she always tucks us in at night with a kiss on the forehead. And she always brings us homemade cookies, and sometimes we get to shower right after she's finished and we get to see..."
Charlie cut him off. "That'll do, Bing. That'll do. You got to see Carol's dirty pillows. I think we're even now."
Bing just smiled, knowing that they weren't even close to being even.
Assassins win 1 up