Fun but Risky

I’ve been in a lot of crowded places in my life: Times Square on New Year’s Eve, the Hong Kong Subway at rush hour, and a Wal-Mart at 5:00 a.m. the day after Thanksgiving. Each of these situations offers an opportunity to watch people and see them at their most primal. However, you haven’t really availed yourself of a truly great people-watching opportunity until you’ve mixed and jostled with the crowds at the FBR Open in Scottsdale, AZ.

As I was driving up to the golf course, my oldest son asked me what FBR stood for, and I had to tell him I wasn’t really sure. However, after no more than five minutes of being in just the parking area where a charter bus picks you up to take you over to the event, it’s obvious that FBR stands for Fake Breast Rendezvous – and I’m guessing that “Open” alludes to the plunging necklines. These women were wearing four-inch heels that certainly wouldn’t be allowed on any putting surface, and I’m fairly certain that if you asked what they thought of Aaron Baddelely’s or Rory Sabbatini’s chances in today’s field they would probably say “I’m more partial to Dolce & Gabana and Vera Wang, but I guess there’s always room for more on the runway.” There were plenty of women in attendance at today’s round, I’m sure, that could certainly take me to school on the golf course, but the ones that seemed to be in greater numbers were obviously not there to watch golf.

As many of you know, the 16^th Hole is famous for being “lively”. Imagine attending an Oakland Raiders football game where the gridiron has been replaced with a 162-yard par three. Since this is not an official NFL event, there don’t seem to be as many limitations on the amount of beer the spectators are allowed to drink. Sitting among the crowd on the 16^th, it was obvious that FBR stands for Full Beer Ruckus. While I was convinced that many of my fellow onlookers had started drinking at 9:00 a.m., my wife thought I was grossly underestimating them and said they probably started last night.

With the Super Bowl in town this weekend there was another group of persons in attendance at today’s round who were lost. They were wandering around aimlessly with a look on their faces that said, “This is the worst NFL Experience I have ever seen in my life!” Those who found their way into the bleachers on the 16^th hole were granted a small portion of solace, though.

Although I have never attended any other PGA events, I’m going to go out on a limb here and bet that there were three times as many Port-a-Potties at the FBR Open than at, say, the Masters. With as much beer flowing at this event, you have another possibility for the letters FBR: Full Bladder Release.