Today marked the final day of my men’s association’s year. At the banquet this evening, I was unanimously voted as club president. There are no term limits for this position so I’ll be “Mr. President” for a fifth consecutive year.
Being club president means a bunch of labor intensive work (score keeping and handicaps, tournaments). It also means listening to many players whine about why they didn’t win last week or why their handicap “went down” (yeah, lame). But it also means I get to continue reaping the benefit of complimentary golf for me and my family. It doesn’t suck to be able to play “free” (relatively) golf and even take my boy out for a few holes before dark. For the number of rounds I play on this course in a year, that would amount to thousands of bucks. Glad to be doing it again this year.
I prefer to refer to you as “Supreme Commander,” or in lighter moments, “The Big Stick.”