From the Top of Clinch, I Can See into the Mystic

“When that foghorn blows, I will be coming home
Yeah when the foghorn blows, I want to hear.
I don’t have to fear it and...
I want to rock your gypsy soul, just like way back in the days of ole.
And magnificently we will flow into the mystic”
--Van Morrison “Into the Mystic”

This great little ditty was playing as I began writing and I figured I would remind you guys of this nice laid-back tune. There is just something about this song that sort of sets me adrift. I don’t know why.

The Derby came and went once again without me cashing a ticket. I had a $60 tri part wheel picked (three horses on top, 5 in the middle, and 7 on the bottom) that would have paid about $220 if I had only bet it. A buddy of mine from work, Tom, talked me into going halfers on a $120 tri part wheel (5 horses on top, 5 in the middle, and 8 on the bottom). After we picked out the horses, I went and placed the bet. When I returned, I told Tom, “You realize that we left the early line favorite out of the entire trifecta.” He looked at me and shrugged, noting his discontent with my notion. “We’re going for the big bucks, here,” he chuckled. We parted our ways after the seventh race with the promise to call the other when the ticket hit. There was no call.

Beth did hit the trifecta with a $36 dollar tri part wheel. I was super excited for her. I really didn’t care that I didn’t win. It was great race. My final pick, Hard Spun, ran second after setting a driving pace the entire race until the stretch and still rode out strong. Street Sense had me awestruck has he pounded down the stretch, passing Hard Spun. He looked good. He looked real good. This horse is as real as Barbaro, Smarty Jones, Afleet Alex and the like. You might just see a Triple Crown winner this year. You may or may not have heard it here first.

I got down to Tennessee for a little bit this past week. The bad news is that I didn’t get to make the first cast. Not for lack of want to, it just didn’t fit into 899’s schedule. You have to ask him what his schedule was. I did play a round of golf at one of my favorite courses, Clinchview Golf Course. It is near Bean Station, Tennessee lying in a valley under the watchful eye of Old Man Clinch Mountain. Great views.

We also rolled in 18 holes at Millstone Country Club outside of Morristown, TN. This course was something else…not in a good way. For a Tuesday afternoon, the course was packed. So, the round was pretty much hurry-up-and-wait-golf for the entire 18 holes. There were as many hackers there as can be found at The Rock (Meadows) in Clay City. There was housing development going on in the area. This brought a parade of dump trucks hauling dirt in 30-minute cycles. There was a set of train tracks on the backside of the course with trains running around every 25 minutes. On the other side of the train tracks was an airport. This airport was fairly busy. There were smaller prop planes coming in around every 5-10 minutes. I’m not sure what all that was about. In between the “fores”, trains, planes and dump trucks, there wasn’t much golf to be found. Sounds like a country song if I ever heard one.

I let the cat out of the bag on my grilling skills down in Tennessee. Some of my uncles were accusing me of this trip being my first down there since I had never “Bobby Flay’d” before. Don’t worry. I didn’t let their applause get to me. “I’m the most humble person I know.” Who said that for a dollar?

This past weekend was one of the funnest weekends I have had since I don’t know how long and it included at Morehead State Graduation. How can that be? It involves the fam and cooking out on Da Pond. I am going to throw a few words out there for you: barbecued chicken, baked beans, potato salad, oriental cole slaw, candy apple salad, grilled shrimp, pineapple casserole. Get the picture? If you were there you know it. If you weren’t there, then, you just missed it. Nuff said. Except for congratulations to my little sister, L-Beezy.

I just heard that Pat Patterson had signed with UK. My jury is still out on that cat. I watched him play three games this year and I wasn’t overly impressed. He played pretty well, but for his size playing against smaller teams, he just wasn’t that good. If he is that good, don’t fall in love with him. Plus, West Virginia guys don’t hang around Rupp Arena too long—each seems to have a different reason.

Killer, a.k.a., DK, a.k.a. David Kyle will be dancing across the commencement stage Friday night in Jackson. I’ll be there to give him a hearty handshake and an absurd congrats card, of course. I have to run for now. More later, hopefully.