The 5th Annual Idiot's Open, to benefit Kansas City Hospice, was a terrific success and a lot of fun for all on a mild, sunny Saturday morning. Thanks to the Idiot-in-Chief, Jim Flink, they raised about $25,000! Congratulations and thanks to everyone who came out, including Jana Corrie who reported for FirstNews weekend edition. As for me, I went to Smiley's Golf Complex early, for a couple reasons:

I tend to get lost driving to Smiley's in Lenexa. It's not their fault. It's mine. Smiley's was one of the first places my wife, Jessica, and I ever visited when we moved here some 20 years ago. It was a broiling hot summer day and I had the bright idea to hit a bucket of golf balls. We didn't have kids at the time and this kind of outing served as a date...sort of. Well, in my mind it was a date. I don't know if Jessica viewed it the same way. As time went by and kids came along, my golfing days, which were always pretty embarrassing, disappeared. For the last several years, I've played the Idiot's Open and that's about it. So, every February, I get in the car and drive to the general area of the golf course, always figuring I'd be able to get there once I got there...if you know what I mean. Last year, I took an extensive tour of the beautiful new neighborhoods in that part of town. The local police probably got several calls about a doofus, driving slowly through the streets at six in the morning.

"Well, ma'am, did he appear to be 'casing' the houses or looking for open garage doors?"

"No, officer, he just appeared to be...well...an idiot. A lost idiot."

"I'll bet it is that ridiculous weatherman searching for that golf tournament, again. Don't worry, ma'am. He's harmless and, if I may say so, not particularly good at golf or weather. There's more "FORE" in his golf game than in his FORE-cast."

So, I leave early.

The other reason I get there before anyone else is to take a practice swing or two...or 57. I know I'm not good at the game so I'm not there with any hope of really hitting the ball well or wisely. I just don't want my clubs to be laughed at. It happened last year. A fellow Idiot approached and, laughingly, said "Oh, those are funny but where are your real ones?" He laughed even harder when I said they were my real ones. I was given my current set of clubs by my wife quite some time ago. I don't have one of those drivers with a head the size of a '64 Rambler. I don't have anything that says "Graphite" on it. I just have a regular set of scuffed-up clubs. This year, however, even the clubs themselves seemed to be in on the joke. On the first green, I leaned on my putter as I bent over to get my golf ball out of the hole...where I had surreptitiously kicked it while Jim Flink was combing his hair. I can't do many things on the course that look professional but this move of leaning on the putter while retrieving the golf ball is one of the few times I don't look completely out of place. Until Saturday. As I leaned, the head of my putter snapped off. Quicker than you can say Lorena Bobbitt, I began to fall over. Now, I can use the shaft of the putter to point at things on the weather map and the head as a paper-weight...if I had any important papers to weigh down.

By the way, my clubs are old and broken down...as am I...but, at least I wasn't swinging clubs imprinted with word DIVA on them like Mr. Flink. That is not a lie...good, bad or otherwise. He claims he "accidentally" grabbed his wife's clubs. Okay. They sure seemed to fit him perfectly. Didn't matter. He beat me soundly. Score one for the Maria Callas of the fairways. (I'm more like the Charlie Callas of the fairways.)

Before the round officially started, the group was having a competition called Hit The Idiot. You'd pay for a small bucket of balls. Then, take aim at the idiot. If you hit the idiot, your name went in a drawing for some great prize. Now, they had a stuffed dummy sitting in a caged tractor about a hundred yards out from the driving range tee boxes. That was the idiot they were supposed to be hitting! That idiot! Not this one! Do you think I am overusing exclamation points!?! Well, have you ever had to run for your life while a bunch of guys fire golf balls your direction the minute they see you?!?! HUH!?!? They saw Hit The Idiot...saw me...put two and two and a Titleist together....

Well, it's another year until the next Idiot's Open. The swelling should go down by then.