I’ve been somewhat vocal about my new found love for golf. If you listened to Large and me on Barstool Breakfast (R.I.P.) from time to time I would scream and foam at the mouth on how much I absolutely hated golf. A lot of my good friends who are die hard golfers, love to sit back and tell me how much golf has impacted their life. The talk about how being one with the course is therapeutic, it gives them opportunity to let their thoughts fly and become one with nature. Translation…. "I hate my wife and my kids don’t respect me anymore." Now that might not be entirely true, but I couldn't understand how someone could spend damn near 6 hours on a course. Only to leave the greens, more pissed off about life than when they woke up that morning. Golf is supposed to be a stress reliever. The only thing that motivated me was my ability to hit one good shot with my driver off the tee, that’s it. Over-priced drivers, custom irons and eccentric golf attire with million-dollar conversations, pretty much sums up golf. Well at least thats what I used to think. This past Monday marked my 8th annual Willie Colon Golf Outing benefitting the Jean Davis Lupus Research Grant at the Canoe Brook Country Club in Short Hills, New Jersey. I was extremely honored to have golfers from all over the country come out and play for a great cause. We were able to hit it big this year. Our goal is and will always be to find a cure for Lupus.
Asking athletes retired and current, to come out and play at your golf outing can be a headache. Some guys want red carpret treatment, 1st class flights, 4 to 5 star hotels, personal driver…. etc. Talking to the media maybe asking to much, even if the questions are about the charity they flew all the way to town for. I get it, I do. Sometimes these charities can be a lot. You have season ticket holders loaded up on booze, autograph pirates and young women to spray tanned cougars with their best push up bras on display. This can become uncomfortable in front of mixed company. I have no problem laying it all out for guys, especially if they make the effort to be apart of a cause that’s near and dear to me. I mean it’s only right. You look out for me and I’ll look out for you. What really boils my grits are guys who I talked to multiple times leading up to the event and then a day or two before the event I get a late text, “Hey, Bro can’t make it, next year I’m there!”. Are you kidding me? Money spent, air fair, hotel rooms, press releases are out. and you give me a 24 hour notice! What hell am I going to do with that? Then the no shows with no explanations at all. They gonna see me…Trust!! I’ve dealt with my fair share of let downs, but you learn to roll with the punches. It’s about the cause not about who is there and who’s not. This year I want to send a special thanks out C.C. Sabathia (NY Yankees), John Starks (Ny Knicks), Nick Mangold( NY Jets) David Harris( NY Jets) Stephen Bowen( Dallas Cowboys) Scott Burrell (Chicago Bulls) Brian Custer( Showtime Boxing) for making this year's golf outing.
This year I was determined to play. I've been to other ball players golf outings. The celebrity host tends to do a couple things. They stand by a hole, take a swing, take a picture and send the participants along the way or play. This year I was all in. I am going to play all 18 holes with my foursome. I’m going to be honest, I’m probably the weakest out of my foursome. However this year, after one golf session last Saturday afternoon, I feel like I’m ready to dominate!
It’s a cloudy Monday afternoon, light on and off drizzle, 68 degrees with 100% of Boozing!
We pull up to the first hole, the only thing on my mind is knocking the shit out of this ball and starting this day off right with a beautiful cuban cigar that I can’t wait to fire up and a cold beer that has my face on it (special thank you goes out Departed Soles Brewing company of Jersey City, New Jersey. They made me my own beer for the outing and it was DELICIOUS.) Anyway…. The format for today's outing is a shamble, everyone tees off and we select the best ball to hit out of the four us. The outing was sold out, we ended up pushing people away. We had 55 foursomes, which is a blessing. But, it does make for a long day of golf if every one was trying to play their ball. I walked up to the tee box and put my long tee in the ground. I can hear the giggles and heckles from my guys in the back. In their minds, I’m about to slice the shit out of this ball, and some wood peckers are going to die. I placed the ball on the tee, looked down the fair way, took a deep breathe, approached the ball, head down, secured my driver in my hand, locked my left arm and swung with enough force to start a tropical storm in Belize. I crushed it, and it went straight. I’m just doing what Willie has always done, shut the peanut gallery up!
We birdie that hole, thanks to me, Willie “Long Ball” Colon, I’m feeling myself. Today is going to be a good day! The next hole is a breeze, we threw up a “ Bogey” burger. The home team is looking strong. Cigar is fried up, tasting like magic, two cold Willie’s in and the music is just right pumping from my golf cart. I mentioned earlier how much I hated golf, prior to my first golf lesson I thought golf sucked. I would rather get the story of Adam and Eve tattooed on my nuts.
People leave golf outing bragging and boasting about all type fo things, the money they won from side bets. We were fortunate to have Porsche sponsor on our hole-in-one. Some lucky rich bastard got it. He actually got a hole in one and went home with a fire truck red Porsche. I wasn't there to see it, but I heard it bounced and rolled right in the cup. The old stud went bat shit crazy. I mean can you imagine rolling up to your house with a new Porschenand your wife asking you how and how much. And all you say is… KOBE!!
Things will have a sudden change for the worst. Every year I hand out a the Big Dick Award, I mean the Longest Drive Award for the men and women. You should see how the winners make their way to the microphone. It’s as if they just won the Baddest Mother Fucker Award. It makes me laugh because the pride beams from their eyes, it’s hilarious. But I don't blame them, you're king for the day. Unless you win a Porsche, then that makes you a god, but just for a day.
Today I want to be King, it’s my goddamn outing and I want to feel like the baddest mother fucker on this course. I tee up first, I know I got this. Just breath, head down and find your grip, lock your left arm, keep your shoulders down, slow on your back swing, eyes down over your left shoulder, keep your weight balanced, swing and follow-through.
As I get in to my swing I can feel my coastal cartilage crunch and feel one of my ribs slip out. Holy Fuck!! Did that shit hurt! As I finished following through, I grab for my ribs and to make matters worst, I just broke my driver. I can tell my guys are in shock. Shit, so am I! My good friend Dr. Lou is apart of my foursome. He immediately walked up to me see if I was ok. Of course I am! Dr. Lou and I have a special relationship. When I was gutting it out my last two years with the Jets, Dr. Lou would come to my house to work on me, he kept me in the game. Needless to say, he knows me. He asks me to take another swing, I try and I can’t. Why me? Why now? I spent years in NFL and never suffered a serious Rib injury. The first thing that slips into my head. Your’re getting old doggy.
There was no way in hell I wasn't going to finish the day, so all I did was putt, drink beer and puff away. As salty as I was, tapping out wasn’t an option. I was struggling but so what, this whole outing is about finding a cure for lupus. After watching what my mom went through all those years and seeing other lupus warriors battle this horrific disease, I wasn’t going to dare bitch and moan about my ribs, not today.
The outing was a hit! After everyone finshed the playing, cocktail hour get festive, Dj Rob Dinero get’s busy on the turntables, food and drinks find their way to tables, hugs an kisses are everywhere. It always warms my heart to see everyone laughing and taking pictures. That’s how my mom would have wanted it. This is the first outing she missed, my family was in attendance which is important to me because like most families who deal with a lost of a loved one, it’s great to see people outside the family show love and support. The research grant we started in her name continues to be a focus for the family and me. To all those who continue to support it with your donations, we thank you.
Tuesday morning sucked!! I haven't been that sore since my first NFL training camp in Latrobe, P.A. My wife didn’t like how I was sounding in my sleep so she said ENOUGH, We are going to the E.R., so we went. After taking some x-rays and trying to sneeze and cough at times,turns out I chewed up some cartilage in my ribs and a small hair line fracture on false rib (9th). talk about luck! With Mother's Day approaching, my wife may have hit for the cycle. Not only does she have to take care of me and my son who is one year old, she is 7 months pregnant with my baby girl. I think I need to find that old fart who won the red Porsche.