Evian Blues

I've been pumped up for weeks, waiting for, anticipating The Evian, longing to be at Evian-les-Bains, dragging one of those snazzy green lawn chairs with the Evian logo embossed on it that spectators can purchase for a paltry 20 Euros at The Evian Shop behind me as followed Suzann Pettersen -- my secret girl-jock crush -- watching her roll putts, out-play the entire field, turn loose in Norwegian with a string of exhilarating profanity when her ball misbehaves, all the while nibbling delectable morsels from an oh-so-French picnic basket I purchased on my way through the gate to the tournament.  

Stop Peeking!

After all that pre-round fretting and worrying I managed to bogey the #2 hole at Stoney Point yesterday, even with a fairly limp 2nd shot.  If I'd kept my head down, I might have collected a par.  Truthfully, I was still fretting about the creek when I took that shot, and I admit that I peeked, just to have the pleasure of watching my ball fly up to its safe place, perfectly set up for a 3rd shot over the creek and onto the green with my trusty 8 iron.

I knew I shouldn't take the peek, but it was irresistible, and it was my downfall from a likely par to a slightly disappointing bogey.