Matt Bates

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Eagle-ish...

April 24, 2019 by Matt Bates

“Dude, no fucking way.” - Me.

We just stood there. I couldn't believe it. I have been playing this game on and off for five years and have never come this close. Could I have done it? My first hole in one?

Moments earlier my friend, Ryan, and I had been lining up our shots on the 5th. It's a beautiful day out in Southern California, but when is it not? It's sunny, mid-70's, with a few white, billowing clouds spotting the blue mid-morning sky. A cool breeze washed across my face as I approached my attempt to par this hole. I have played this course before and for some reason the 5th always destroys me. I can never seem to line it up right. I took a deep breath and let it rip.

Ry was watching the ball as I slowly brought my head up. I had no idea where it went so I turned to him and asked, "Where did it go, dude?" I pivoted to look towards the green and saw the flag on the pin give a little shake as if something had struck it. I thought to myself there was no way I just nailed it. There wasn't a chance. I turned back to Ry, handed him my phone, and told him to head down in front of me, I didn't want to see it yet. He looked back with astonishing awe, "Dude, you did it." He ran towards the green and I just stood there, 100 yards away reflecting on the shot.

I had pared the last three holes and was proud of that, there was no way I could have just sunk this in one shot. It just doesn't make sense, I am not good at golf. But, maybe it's just my lucky day. I trekked down towards my shot and Ry was jumping up and down screaming, "Dude, you nailed it! It popped in and out, I know it!" My ball, from a shot taken 100 yards away, had been lying on the lip of the hole. I stiff breeze or tremor could have toppled it in. I couldn't believe it. I finally did it, the eagle quest was over. I couldn't, and still can't, believe it.

Ryan tried to convince me that it was a hole in one, but we all know it wasn't. At most, my ball might have popped in and out of the hole, potentially, for just a moment, it was a hole in one. I will take the eagle. We must have stayed there for ten minutes celebrating and holding up everyone behind us trying to tee off. I didn't care. We took photos, videos, and I am pretty sure I text everyone I have ever played golf with to show them this accomplishment.

The most humbling thing about this experience was the very next hole I sliced it back into the tree line. There we go, that's the game I am used to. Maybe it was a bit of luck from the golf gods to let me have a moment in the sun, but they promptly put me back in my place on the 6th.

Damn you, golf gods. Why must you play with my emotions like this?

-YourFriendMatt

April 24, 2019 /Matt Bates
California, golf, humor, sunday, blog, love, passion, adventure, eagle, birdie, masters
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Dude, where's your putter?

April 10, 2019 by Matt Bates

"Welp. Shit." - Me.

It was a perfect day off. I was going to meet two of my friends for golf, the weather is beautiful. Our dryer is still broken so the pressure to accomplish all the laundry that is piling up fell out of sight and out of mind. I mean, I can't finish the laundry if I can't dry it, right? The sun is out, the warm morning breeze of summer is blowing through Santa Monica and I had nothing to do but hit the links with the boys. What else could I ask for?

Well, they both canceled on me last minute. I was pissed. This was supposed to be a beautiful mid-week break from work to hang and have some guy time, but no, one of them had to get food poisoning and the other had to go to the doctors, my friends are so inconsiderate. How dare they not consult me before making other plans to tend to their health? I decided to go anyway and play solo, it'll still be a great time.

I pulled into the public golf course and got ready to go. The bag was loaded up, sunblock on, and had a few snacks and beverages. Time to play. I teed off and was feeling great about the start to my day, who needs those guys anyway. I pulled up to the green and went looking for my putter. "Oh, shit, I knew I forgot something" I rambled to myself. As it turns out I had recently used my putter for a thrilling game of indoor-putter-return in my living room a few nights before. My putter now rests in the corner of my kitchen, nowhere near the first hole of this game. Shit.

What am I to do? Go back and rent a putter? Hell no. I can't admit I am a moron. I am going to figure this out and play this round the way the powers that be wanted me to, without a putter. Maybe it was a sign I should work on my chipping technique. Either way, I am not turning back now.

It wasn't my worst round ever, but definitely, one that I won't forget. I used my driver, my 3 and my 9 all as putters for the day. Other folks on the course occasionally looked over at me like I was out of my mind. Plus, I even managed to feed a squirrel. All in all, incredible day on the course. Any day out playing golf beats even your best day at work.

My new friend - Rancho Park Golf Course -Los Angeles, CA

My new friend - Rancho Park Golf Course -Los Angeles, CA

-YourFriendMatt

April 10, 2019 /Matt Bates
golf, Los Angeles, putter, caddyshack, humor, blog, sunday, delco
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Bachelor Party...

June 03, 2018 by Matt Bates

"Should we start a fight?" - My Dad.

It has been one week since my bachelor party. It is insane how fast time flies. I wait our entire lives for some moments, and in an instant, they are over. It has already been a week, and I wish I could go back to last weekend and relive the entire experience. Spending time with my family and friends is a luxury, and I often forget how special it can be.

We got off our red-eye flight from LAX to Philadelphia and immediately were reinvigorated. The sweet scent of the trash-filled air, the grit of the Philadelphia TSA, and the gray, overcast weather connected us right back to our roots; we are home. Someone pushed past us as we made our way through the terminal. They yelled something along the lines of, “Get the fuck out of my way, you pussies!” Philadelphia is a beautiful place.

A Wawa trip and a nap later and we were ready to get onto the festivities that were planned for us by friends and family. Every time Jamie and I head back to our home state of Pennsylvania; we immediately split up to see our different groups of friends and family. It is pretty incredible that I don’t see her until we meet back up at the airport days later at the end of the trip. We live together. I see here every day, but when we get back home to see our parents, we just wave goodbye and do our own thing.

I woke up from my nap on my mom’s couch and immediately had a beer. I am on vacation. It is my bachelor party weekend. I plan on being at least buzzed the entire time. Since I do not really drink anymore, I had to spend the week leading up to my bachelor party doing shots every night to rebuild my tolerance. I chatted with my mom for a while over a 10 am brew and decided to make my way over to my dad’s house. For those of you who have no idea who my father is, let me give you a quick rundown. He believes he is a 21-year-old and he also believes it is the year 1986. He usually is shirtless and wearing ripped jeans or something he found on the side of the road. He will drink you under the table and steal your woman. Motley Crue and Talking Heads are usually what is listening too. He loves to wander the neighborhood with his metal detector and can’t be caught without a beer in his had no matter what time it is. So, you can see why I would want to hang out with him immediately. 

We spent the afternoon looking through his raised vegetable garden, playing frisbee, and taking down two 6-packs. The level of relaxation that we achieved was nothing short of incredible. I put my phone down and forgot about it. When was the last time you did that? I was fully immersed in the relaxation aided by the help of cheap American, canned beers. 

I passed out for a long sleep sometime in the early night. We had to be up early for golf with the entire bachelor crew the next morning. Some of the bachelor party had never golfed a day in their lives. If you think my dad has golf, owns an acceptable pair of golf pants (or any pants for that matter), or knows the etiquette of golf, you’d be dead wrong. He showed up in his best-ripped jeans shorts and a case of Narragansett - safely stowed in a soft cooler of ice. We were ready to hit the links.

It is safe to say we finished all the beer and almost got in a fight on the 11th hole. By the time we reach the 11th, we were all a little drunk and taking our time aiming our shots. The foursome behind us yelled something along the lines of, “Hurry the fuck up, you drunk fucks!” None of us were having it. We were all in good moods and no one was going to stop us. All of us yelled back all the obscenities we could remember and were willing to start a fight in the middle of the course. I mean really, why would you start a fight with a group of drunk, blue collar, Philadelphia working men celebrating a bachelor party? “Fuck you, you mother fucking, fuck! I’ll shove this golf club down your throat if you say another god damn word! It’s my son’s bachelor party!” My father yelled. “Should we wait and beat the shit out of them? I got time.” My father asked all of us. I am not going to lie, there was a bit of a pause from all of us but we opted to keep the good vibes going and moved along, but not before we flipped them all of and threw shit at them for the remainder of the game. They never said another word and put up with our antics for the rest of the game.

Over the weekend, my family and friends all went golfing, drank, talked shit, and had a blast. All of my closest friends live across the country now. It was great to see those who had flown in to celebrate our upcoming wedding. For some of us, we hadn’t been home together in years, and we picked up right where we left off. These relationships are special. It is rare to find people that genuinely care about you and want to celebrate what you are doing. It is even harder to find someone who will care about you for decades to come. It is times like these where you learn who is in it for the long haul with you, and who was there for a few short bus stops.

-YourFriendMatt

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June 03, 2018 /Matt Bates
Family, humor, golf, bachelor party, philadelphia, los angeles, beer, funny, wawa, home, Philadelphia
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The Squash...

June 01, 2014 by Matt Bates in love, humor, california, los angeles, dalies, matt bates, comedy, family, lifestyle, yourfriendmatt, news, fun, nike, golf

"Man. Fuck this bitch." I said to myself getting cut off in line at the super market.

It's Friday and I am on my bike ride home from work. After a weeks worth of dealing with the American Public it's only right that I stop at the super market to grab some nice beer. An hour from now I will be sitting in the backyard staring at the raise garden I assembled basking in the sun as it turns to dusk. Perfect way to launch into the weekend if you ask me.

(SIDE-NOTE: I don't know if I will ever get use to being able to walk into any supermarket in California and be able to purchase beer, wine, or booze. It's like Christmas ever time I walk into a store. Like I forget and am surprised...again. This makes food shopping, preparing a dinner party, or entertaining so much easier without having to go to multiple locations or the "state store" to get alcohol. That's right my friends...in Pennsylvania we have to go to multiple locations to get booze, 6-packs, and cases...I know, I know...it's insanity.)

Perusing the beer garden at my local super market I see a ton of great deals and want to choose carefully. This is a big decision. As I am standing looking at the variety in front of me I hear a "Uhhhhh." Followed by a deep sarcastic valley girl sigh "Like, excuse me!" Followed by another scoff. A woman pushes me out of the way and grabs her bottle of wine. I couldn't believe how rude she was but I brush it off, pick up a 12 pack variety of local craft beer and make my way to the register. The line is out the door, which isn't a total surprise. "Who cares that the market decided to have one line open to ring out the entire city of Los Angeles?" I think to myself "Just relax, in a little bit you'll be home."

I feel a tap on my shoulder and it's Curtis. (What? You don't know your market employees by name?) "Hey man, good to see you, head to 3 I'm about to open it up." He whispers and scampers off. Man, I love this guy. I turn and make a run for his line as he hits the switch to the light up the 3 indicating he is open. This is great, one item, he'll ring me out in two seconds and I am on my way home. As I turn to greet Curtis ZOOM! A blonde haired, mid 40's, LA snob-devil-she-bitch cuts me off in sporty hiking gear...with a full cart. The same woman who pushed me earlier. Her stupid blonde ponytail poking out the back of her Nike golf hat she obviously took from her pitch-n-putt husband...he is probably a "producer." Ew. What makes it worst is that she knew, she knew what she was doing, she knew she cut me off. We locked eyes and the world froze as our surroundings dimmed black and for a second it was just her and I. She shot me the "FUCK YOU! I CUT YOU OFF AND YOU SUCK! BY THE WAY FUCK YOUR BEER!" look. We all know this look right? This isn't over yet.

The devil-monster places her gluten-free, California locally grown, organic-soy based, animal cruelty free or whatever the hell hippie products on the counter.  The last thing she puts down is a fresh Italian loaf of bread from the store's bakery. I haven't said anything yet and although this has been a tragic turn of events I know I'll get her somehow. Curtis shot me a look of concern. I nod in approval. One final shrug as he silently mouths "Sorry, bro!" and starts to ring up this devils order. As I see her cart full of items jolting towards Curtis on the conveyer belt every market has I take a glance at the fresh italian loaf a bread. Maybe she is making a pasta tonight? Maybe it'll be nice for her devil family...so cute. Welp. Too Bad. Does anyone remember what I am holding...oh yes, a 12 pack of beer. Then it hits me "Man. Fuck this bitches bread." As her last few items were being rung up I make my move. She didn't see it coming. I drop my case of brew on top of this fresh bakery bread flattening it to a fresh bakery pancake. What is she going to do now?

"Hey, my bread!" she yells. Curtis shoots me a look and shakes his head with a smirk. I pretend not to notice she is yelling in my general direction and grab one of the trash magazines the market strategically places in all the lines. "Wow. Curtis did you see Kim and Kanye's wedding photos?" I nonchalantly mention to Curtis paying no mind to the devil-monster yelling and flailing her arms in front of me. Did I mention I am also still wearing my bike helmet during all of this? "Lady! Your holding everyone up!" Someone screeches from the line that quickly formed behind me. "Ma'am would you like to get another one?" Curtis trails off. "I already rung it up and we do have a line." He finishes as I add "Yeah! We do have a line!" I could see the devil fire growing in her eyes and the sweat forming on her brow as she stood fist clenched. I add "Well?" In the most sarcastic-dickhead voice I could muster. "Lady! Move!" Someone else yells from behind me. Frozen for a second and fuming she reaches into her bag pulling out a credit card, swipes to pay and starts to bag her items.

Curtis rings up my only item, I peel the bread off my beer and squeeze my way past her while she is still bagging. "Night Curtis! Thanks man!" I say and exit.

Riding home with a 12 pack in your beach cruiser basket knowing you have nothing but brews and gardening in front of you makes forgetting about that devil-monster-she-bitch all the easier. When out in public...please use your manners. And remember if you are going to be awful...someone might drop a 12 pack on your bread. 

I hope you all have a fantastically relaxing weekend!

 

YourFriendMatt

June 01, 2014 /Matt Bates
matt bates, love, los angles, memorial day, work, weekend, yourfriendmatt, california, nike, golf
love, humor, california, los angeles, dalies, matt bates, comedy, family, lifestyle, yourfriendmatt, news, fun, nike, golf
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