The Parkbury Cup was in reach...but I choked before I could drink from it.

So...John and Jeff Parker, along with myself created a year long tournament called the Parkbury Cup (Stansbury/Parker..get it? good). WWEEEEEELLLLLLLL. We played the first annual tourney in 07...Having only completed 3 rounds because Jeff...broke his freakin leg...so Of COURSE he couldn't play for like 6 months...Normally...this wouldn't be an issue, but you see, I was winning. After 3 rounds, I was beating John by 10 and Jeff by 3. So my game plan...play conservative, and take home the Cup. Yeah....not so much. What I didn't realize is that Jeff, while rehabbing that leg, must have been drinking that new Gatorade called Tiger...for Tiger Woods...and he must have been drinking lots. After not having a round less than 84 in the previous 3, Jeff decides to shoot a 2 over on the front nine. I shot 4 over. So going into the 10th hole...I am only one up. That is where, some may say, the proverbial wheels, fell right the hell off. After a bogey on 10, I come to the 11th tee. A 367 yard par 4, dog leg right, water way left and in front of the green. The play here is a solid 3 iron to around the 150 stake...but I grab driver...not to conservative. The only real trouble besides water left, out of bounds right and a fairway that is about 20 yards wide...is the fact that it was 6:45pm and the sun was directly in our eyes. So ... I proceed to try to hit a "high fade" and leave my self a small wedge into the green...that would have been nice. My fade turned into a draw and was lost in the sun. But by all accounts...those being John and Jeff, the ball was headed towards the large crater filled with water known as a lake, or pond...whatever. As I dropped my ball, I said to myself..."That's ok...drop here and hit a good solid shot and maybe make par." John turns to me and says. "You got about 165-170 from there." John is a very close friend and I consider him one of the smartest...so I figure he was on the money or close (Jeff claims it was he that gave me the yardage...I stick to my story)...little wind into me...I hit a perfect 6 iron...I mean it is tracking right on the stick...only problem was...it was about 25 yards long. So now I am just pissed. I hit the best shot of the day and I am still not close. I am in the rough, chipping up hill, to a green that slopes away. Oh..and the pin, which is about 30 yards away, is tucked in the back..so I have all of 2 yards to deal with. I of course leave my first flop attempt about a yard short. Now my shot is even more difficult...and at this point I hated the world and everything in it. Jeff was putting for birdie, and I am chippin for bogey. If I get this up and down..I make double...but I didn't. I blew it past the hole...and then three putted. I got an 8. Thats right an 8. On a par 4. From up one...to down 3. Back to back pars would get my confidence back...even though on both I missed pretty easy birdie attempts, but then after a double on a par 5 in which yet another one of my balls miraculously disappeared, I found myself down with 3 to play. It was now getting dark. We played the next hole, a par three in which you couldn't even see the flag because it was so dark. I parred it. A good shot...good putt...in the dark. I get an 8 on a short par four, but can play a par three over water blind to the green in the pitch black and put it on the lip for birdie. I suck in a weird way. We called it after 16 with Jeff up 4 with two to play. I tried to wine my way out of it, trying to make every excuse in the book to why the Cup should be mine...but I just plain choked. Like a dog on a bone. I guess theoritically I still have a chance. Down by four with two left...as soon as we continue, I just need to hope jeff can make an 8. He hasn't made over a double in four rounds and he has only made 3 of those. I guess I can start my quest for 08. There...got that off my chest.