Foooooouuuur! (200th new thing).
November 11, 2011 § Leave a comment
On Day Two Hundred I volunteered with Ahimsa House at the East Lake golf course for the PGA Tour Championship. Or playoffs. I’m not really sure what it was, just that a lot of famous golfers were playing the game, a game which I had never before seen professionally played, especially not live.
I parked at Turner Field and caught the free volunteer shuttle to the course, signed-in and walked over to the Ahimsa House concessions where about fifteen other people had also congregated to help out. We were introduced to our tasks for the day by a concessions employee who explained each position. There would be people in charge of grabbing the beverages out of the cooler, pouring beer, making the hot dogs and hamburgers, and a pair of bodies on each register, one who would ring up the order, and the other called a runner who would gather all of the items ordered. When we were asked which station we wanted to be at, I quickly moved to the registers. I would do anything, but preferred not to be the one touching hot dogs and hamburgers. I figured my people skills could be put to use.
I walked to the front of the house section and met Kat, another person on her own avoiding the food-preparation table. We decided we could partner up and she would run and I would ring. We worked well together and served the line of people as the day progressed quite quickly. We even collected a good amount of tips for the Ahimsa House and had one guy inquire into donating his Hilton Head timeshare. We also saw a ton of golf attire. I have to admit, I grew to love some seersucker.
Once the crowd thinned out in the early afternoon we took a break to watch a little golf. The concession stand was situated between the ninth and tenth holes, so we meandered down with a thin crowd of people to some action at the tenth. We saw a pair of golfers and their caddies making their way to where we sat just off the putting green. I was amazed at how the crowd of spectators lined up along the fairway, moving down with the professionals. It all seemed a bit boring to me, but maybe this was in part because I had no clue who anyone was.
We watched the first pair of players finish the hole and then waited a little longer for the next two. One was Phil Mickelson, whose name I recognized from lazy weekends where my dad dozed on the recliner as the golf played quietly through the TV. I was going to call him up and see if he was watching, but PGA spectator rules are incredibly strict. You can only use your cellphone in designated areas and photography is forbidden, or at least strictly frowned upon. I didn’t take any pictures; I didn’t want to risk being kicked out of a volunteer gig.
After Mickelson and his golfing partner headed to the next hole Kat and I went back to our posts behind the concession tent. Before I knew it, it was time to head back home. I wish I had gotten to see more of the golf, but I had a great time. Maybe slinging hotdogs and beer was more exciting than the game.
Although seersucker could look good on me. Maybe.