Dak Prescott’s Girlfriend Celebrates Her Birthday, Scottie Scheffler Vs. His Vest & Lane Kiffin Shows Up At Prom Photoshoot

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Save the date!

The 4th annual Put-In-Bay Invitational date has been set and you need to write a note and stick it on the fridge so you and your wife understand JULY 9 has been reserved and you’ll need the weekend off while you disappear to Middle Bass Island on Lake Erie (cell service is spotty, ladies!) to play in one of America’s great golfing events at one of America’s great island lake resorts.

Last year, my neighbor Sam and his buddy Tommy won the actual tournament at 2-UNDER, I think. Honestly, I can’t remember their exact score.

I know what you’re thinking: 2-UNDER? WHAT?

That’s right, this is a 9-hole challenge where you and a partner will use TWO clubs total. You’ll get a wood and an iron out of the huge bag of clubs I mule over to the island. I dump out the bag on the first tee box and you start fighting opponents for the best 40-year-old 7-iron and 3-wood you can find.

Then you fill your pockets with golf balls and the tournament begins.

I was asked this weekend about the course, course conditions, etc. Let’s just say you have to see the Put-In-Bay Country Club to understand it. Shoes and shirts are optional. Music is encouraged. Fun is mandatory.

At the end of the round, we’ll throw the Closest-To-The-Pin party on the 9th hole, which presents a 95-yard or so pitch shot for all the money. Sounds easy, right? Again, you’ve never seen the conditions presented by the PIB Country Club.

Last year, a Screencaps team out of New Jersey brought a ringer who left one inches from a hole-in-one and he took home the $325 or so pile of cash laying on the tee box.

So save the date. I’m going to limit this invitational to 36 players. Let me know if you’re in and I’ll reserve spots. I don’t need the money ($40) right now. I just need to know if you’re in so I can kick out some of the dead weight from previous trips.

Email: joekinsey@gmail.com

My random thoughts

  1. If Scottie Scheffler goes the Bernhard Langer route, the 2022 Masters champion will still be participating at Augusta National in 2062 or so. Let that sink in. I know, I really hammered out some quick math here and it’s absolutely fascinating to think of what winning a green jacket at 25 does for one’s life. That’s a whole bunch of Champions dinners for Scottie to look forward to.
  2. What do travel ball kids do with all the rings they win? Do they wear them out to fancy dinners? Keep them locked up for safe keeping?
  3. I shot a 93 Sunday morning (indoors) while playing the Myrtle Beach Tour. Now if only I can transfer that to the real course in the upcoming weeks.
  4. 9-foot indoor golf gimmes make golf so much fun.
  5. My wife had our entire family show up to a birthday party at an Urban Air park a day early. Needless to say, Saturday was thrown all out of whack and I (strongly) suggested she get some rest while I went off to watch the Masters at the neighbor’s house.
  6. That neighbor asked, “What if this mowing thing becomes your legacy and it’s written into your obit?”
  7. Let’s think about that one this week. What do you want written about you in that obit when it’s all over? I’m starting to think that “He ran a mowing league that was enjoyed by people across the country (and Canada)” wouldn’t be a bad way to go out.
  8. Imagine your family tree five generations down the line somehow digging up the history of this thing called the Thursday Night Mowing League. I’d pay right now to see their admiration for where it all began.

On stickers

I will continue to write on this subject in-depth this week, but I wanted to quickly let you know that Indy Daryl is driving around Indy with this on his car. This is big, folks. I never thought I’d see this day. We’re going to have TNML sightings all across this country and I cannot wait.

Indy Daryl writes:

Thank you sir for the stickers! Proud to display mine next to all the others !

On work streaks

Congratulations are in order for Toledo Mud Hens play-by-play guy Jim Weber who worked his 6,000th game Sunday afternoon. I spent a year as an intern for the Mud Hens back in the day, and the guy was an absolute treasure then and he hasn’t slowed down. Here’s the crazy part of this streak — Jim has sat through dozens of pitiful seasons, especially in the 1990s when Toledo’s old ballpark, Ned Skeldon Stadium, which was an old horse track, was in such bad shape that the Tigers would send their best prospects to Double-A Erie instead of Triple-A Toledo because the facility was such a dreadful mess. From 1998-2000, the Mud Hens didn’t win over 60 games. They were horrible.

Ned Skeldon Stadium was falling apart and the city was preparing to build a new downtown ballpark, but in the meantime, the show had to go on in the dump and it was quite a show, especially for an intern responsible for going to retrieve dinners for the media. The Big Js absolutely LOVED Applebee’s nights and they would set their schedules to get one of those meals. For some local Big Js, it was the best meal they had all week.

Inside the ballpark, there were so many great memories.

I remember one night in particular where the Toledo PA announcer, an old-timer with a quick fuse, purposely started ripping Mud Hens manager Gene Roof over a live mic because of a last-minute lineup change or a wrong lineup card. It was one of those memory bank moments. Roof got on a phone into the press box and the PA announcer went at it with the manager. It was awesome.

I remember people in the neighborhood flipping out when extra innings games were followed by fireworks shows well after the typical time when minor league teams would shoot off fireworks. I remember calling in game updates to a score service based in New York City, which would then send out wire updates around the country. I would have to write down score updates and deliver them to Weber to read off to his listeners.

Another big memory from that year — yep, Weber was working — was the June evening when Bob Hamelin, the former A.L. Rookie of the Year, was playing for Toledo when he grounded out, turned to his right, headed straight for the locker room and quit baseball.

“For the game?” Roof asked.

“No, for good,” Hamelin told the manager.

He wasn’t lying. Bob’s Baseball Reference page tells the story. He never played another game.

That’s how torturous it was to play in Toledo in those days, and yet Weber just kept showing up to call games for shitty teams, in a really shitty facility with some nights attracting a couple of hundred fans. Good seats weren’t hard to find. And it wasn’t like many people were tuning in on AM radio across the Mud Hens’ network to hear yet another loss.

There are records that will never be broken and then there’s this Triple-A baseball streak. It’s going to be an absolute miracle for some young gun out there to break this one.

On the Masters

• Jeremy M., who likes to pen essays about the biggest events and biggest stories of our lives, writes:

Four days a year folks around the country have arm hair standing at the mention of azaleas in bloom.  In South Carolina where the mosquito bites are as plentiful as the boiled peanuts, this is THE golf tournament.  We knew the rain poured in on Wednesday.  We knew it was cold (by Southern standards) on Saturday.  As God intended it, we knew it was perfect on Sunday.

We soaked in the final round just like the sun on our back without a Salt Life t-shirt. 

Eldric made the cut, then limped through 72 to standing ovations.  

Scottie Scheffler has been playing like Tiger at the time we jammed out to Sean Kingston’s “Beautiful Girls”.

For a weekend, we appreciated a generational talent, while another displayed dominance on a canvas we dream of.

On mic’d up baseball

• Louie in Savannah writes:


What did you guys think of having umpires mic’d up to make replay calls like they are NFL refs calling penalties? I saw the ump in Toronto Friday night make a replay call and the Sky Dome crowd went nuts like the opposing team was just called for a 15-yard-penalty that resulted in a first down.

By the way, I have to say it’s awfully nice to see the Sky Dome packed for an Opening Day for the first time since 2019. Those of you who’ve been following my work for the last decade know that I’m a huge fan of Blue Jays fan content. Contrary to what people might think, Blue Jays fans are notorious for turning in content. After a two-year layoff, expect big things out of these people.

• Ryan M. writes:

Played 18 this morning in Southern Indiana! Christmas Lake Golf Course. Smooth 95 for the first time out. Came home. Checked the leaderboard. Mowed…weedeated. And then porch drinks. Masters birds are real. (Listen to the attachment) But probably overproduced…


I think that just settled the Masters birds real/fake debate. As you can tell from the video, Ryan’s a big ornithologist who wants you Masters bird deniers to know that it’s a big time of year for birds and you shouldn’t just claim that the birds are being pumped into the CBS mixing boards.

Thanks, Ryan.

On getting back into the mowing game

• Mike in Maryland writes:

Hopefully this makes it through to you since I’m attempting it on my phone. First cut of the year completed. 48″ bobcat walk behind with a Kohler engine. Haven’t mowed in about 4 years due to health circumstances but I’m back now. It was easier than riding a bike. I was back in my element and needed it after a week of my daughter having 2 dance classes, a swim class, and having to act as though I like people in my office. It’s great to have the engine running and blades spinning. Time for some garage beers.


What a feeling that must’ve been for Mike in Maryland to mow again. To feel the horsepower of that Kohler engine. To put those mowing shoes on again. I picture Mike walking out to his sidewalk after that mowing session to take it all in. To really stop and analyze his work.

What in the world is this thing?

• Mark writes:

Meanwhile, in Cincinnati, I have no idea what’s going on here.

And with that, let’s get after it today across this great country. That Easter bunny is warming up. Good Friday is near. Spring is now in the air even this far north in Ohio. I’ll have my eyes on the Thursday forecast as I prepare for my own Opening Day.

Take care.

Email: joekinsey@gmail.com

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Written by Joe Kinsey

I'm an Ohio guy, born in Dayton, who roots for Ohio State and can handle you guys destroying the Buckeyes, Urban Meyer and everything associated with Columbus.


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