In the previous post about the 2016 RCK Salt Lake City Amateur tournament, I mention briefly a sock scripting malfunction. I thought the story deserved it’s own golf blog post so here it is.
In the 2nd round of the tournament Sunday I had some other problems in the shoe/sock department. I can laugh now but at the time I was not laughing.
Foot Injuries
I walked some 20+ miles in some new shoes early in the week and as a result got a bad blister on my left heel, along with some kind of injury on my right arch. So I had some pain in both feet, which makes walking 12 miles in the tournament a little difficult.
I taped the hell out of my ankle and changed shoes on the 2nd day. That helped a lot. The new old shoes did not rub or make the blister worse thank the golf gods.
Sock Scripting Malfunction
It was about 7 a.m. and my bedroom was still dark Sunday morning, the day of the second round. As to not wake up the lovely sleeping beauty bride, I quietly grabbed a pair of white Kentwool Tour socks from my drawer and tip toed out of the bedroom and headed to the tournament. In the parking lot of the course when I attempted to put the socks on I found they were about 8 sizes too small. They were my 3-year-old son’s Kentwools, accidentally located in my sock drawer! Complete and utter sock scripting #fail.
I had no choice. I stretched them and put them on. Surprisingly I could stretch them enough to cover my feet and ankle. My playing partners/buddies told me “just buy some damn socks in the pro-shop!” I told them, “I’m not going to buy a crappy pair of cotton socks. I’d rather wear my 3-year-old’s Kentwools than adult size crap socks.” They thought I was nuts. Then again, they don’t wear Kentwools so they can’t possibly understand.
A few holes in my toes were being crushed together and the stretched fabric was not giving me enough padding. I knew if I continued on I’d do even more damage to my feet. On the 3rd hole I called lovely bride and asked her to bring me new socks.
On the 8th fairway a cart from the pro-shop came down with a grocery sack for me. Special delivery from the wife. Inside was a pair of white Kentwools. Thank you thank you. On the 9th tee I started to put the socks on and realized something. The socks were my wife’s socks, not mine! Too small again! Dammit to hell! I looked in the sack and fortunately she brought an extra pair of Masters green Kentwools, which were my size. What a relief.
Below are all the socks involved in this event, after I wore them all. The smaller sizes are a bit stretched out now.
I finished the hot round in 95 degrees with comfy feet and no further issues. Ironically I played better in my 3-year-old’s socks than ones that were my size.
The stats don’t lie. I guess I’ll be wearing my 3-year-old’s socks from this point on. Kentwools only, of course.