Four:

Fore!: interjection Golf.

(used as a cry of warning to persons on a course who are in danger of being struck by the ball.)

As a golf wife, I know how these things play out: The tournament is coming

The date has been set

Location noted

Hole 7: Par 3: 109 yards. See that tree on the left? We were there!

It will be too expensive to travel to see it in person, whereupon the hour of the first gathering of golfers in the predestined location arrives, there will be internet/television/radio/iphone app coverage of every sort and the man of the house and two girl children will gather around a device (or many) and listen, watch and interact with the device in order to see and hear every movement of every golf club, blade of grass, drop of water and swish of pant.

Until Friday at 6pm hit us like a golf ball in the head and we got the call. Did we want 4 free tickets to the US Open, Saturday June 19?

Do fish swim? Do birds fly? Do people mark their calendars for new Apple item releases?

Hell yes, we'll take them!!

So we planned. Quickly. It all came together pretty quickly, once we got the room settled. All hotels and "overnight venues" were either booked solid or charging $300 per night for something that was usually going for $125 in high summer. We got a solid on a reservation at Asilomar but before we could call back and confirm they switched the phone to voice mail for the night. I did a little sleuthing, got a sweet gal on the phone and she booked us for two nights at $142 per night. We're on our way!

Frantically packing as well as reading the back of the ticket to discover most items illegal: bottles of water, phones, cameras, bags, backpacks, food...basically everything on our list, we nevertheless threw a gob of stuff in the car (and miraculously didn't forget anything we needed AND had enough diapers to cover us...er, baby's bum)

We traveled to Pebble Beach in the late night hours, big sister in the back on the "toooch" (this is what we now call the Ipod touch, as the baby knows the sound of the word "touch" and will jump for the glowing rectangle if she hears the word. What kind of parents are we??!). Baby sleeps well and soundly.

I would love to show you some great photos. The sand (all of it; bunkers and beach). The surf, the players, the course. And the people. Lo, the people. All kinds of people. Really and truly. We marched around that course, following a few different folks, catching them at different holes and seeing in person the beauty of golf.

Hole 6: Par 5: 523 yards. Incredible. We saw this from both ends and it was very amazing. Much more athletic than I'd ever imagined. Trying to get a little golf ball to travel a distance of over 4 football fields in less than 5 strokes? Good stuff.

As a leisure sport, I'd really given golf a pass. Not concerned so much with 3 irons and drivers and polyester looking plaid or pleated pants, I really didn't want to get involved. Though my dearest love is all about the golf, I just couldn't be bothered.

Until now. It really is a good game. We had the opportunity to see some very good players, up close and personal. We got to see how they do what they do on TV/internet/iphone and the process behind the screen. Outside, smelling that salt sea air and the sun on our faces, it was good.

I also appreciated the mounds of free food in the Media tent (thanks, Bob!) but that is a story for another day. We are happy to have gone and I dare say that we could do it again. Though perhaps with a bit more forethought.