I Won The Long Drive Competition At Willie Colon's Charity Golf Outing Yesterday, Beating A Bunch Of Massive NFL Legends

Yesterday, we recorded Barstool Breakfast from Canoe Brook Country Club in New Jersey. Willie was having his annual Lupus Alliance Research golf outing, so our crew hopped in an Uber at 5AM and flew out to the course along the pre-dawn Garden State Parkway. Waking up at 4AM is insane to me. It seems to happen to me once every 5 years, either because I’ve booked an early flight because I’ve lost touch with who I am, or because I’ve consented to a favor for someone whom I end up resenting and hating by the end of that day. Knowing that lobstermen, fishermen, and Zah do it every day makes me want to stay away from boats and Africa for life.

We did our show on the deck overlooking the course. I felt right at home, despite Erika’s outrageous assertion that she and Deirdre are the only Barstool employees familiar with the country club lifestyle. Among our guests were D’Brickashaw Ferguson, Nick Mangold, Jason Hatcher, and Antonio Cromartie. Talk about the 1,000-pound club! Sure, Cromartie is more athletic than muscular, but the rest of us had those wicker chairs creaking and groaning like an old man taking the stairs.

There were many NFL legends who played in the outing, and it was a fantastic event. I was placed in a group with JSB, Tex, and Captain Cons, and we had Gay Pat, Cameraguy Steve, and Zah along for the ride. Needless to say, I was not expecting to take the round seriously. Look at this group:

Sweet jeans, Pat. Where’d you find them, Old Navy’s lost and found basket? Imagine you found them at the same time as another guy and the two of you played tug-of-war with them until, somehow, you won, at which point they’d been stretched another 5 feet. Jeans? Really? Act like you’ve been to a golf course one time. Even Tex had the dignity to wear proper golf attire, and I’m pretty sure he was born 7 months premature. Zah, I see you looking thicker than a prime rib grilled cheese on challah. Not exactly sure what pose JSB is going for here, but it certainly appears that she has to use the bathroom. Cons looks good and you can sense that I’m in mid-beach season form through my shirt, so obviously we carried the squad.

On the first hole, we spotted a sign announcing the long drive contest. It was a 493-yard par 5, starting with an elevated tee that probably added 10 yards to my drive. I just bought the new Taylormade M-3 driver with a shaft so stiff that Frankie’s mouth waters whenever I pull it out of my bag. Needless to say, I swung out of my shoes and launched a drive 343 yards. The group in front of us had placed the marker in the fairway on their longest drive, and it was extremely satisfying to take the sign and walk like 50 yards ahead of that spot to my ball for the new benchmark. Sorry dudes; sucks to not lift I guess.

I had a feeling nobody would beat my drive for the rest of the day. But the field was full of some of the world’s greatest, strongest athletes. Time and again, these goliaths stepped up to the tee and tried their best to outdistance me; time and again, they came up short. It doesn’t matter that very few of them play golf. If you’re super strong and athletic, you should be good at all sports like me.

I left around 4PM, before the post-tournament festivities, so I wasn’t around to accept the award. JSB stepped up and grabbed the award on my behalf. She gave it to me this morning, covered in fingerprints and smudges, which really pissed me off. Hold it by the edges, for the love of God. You wouldn’t rub your greasy pizza hands all over the Stanley Cup, right?

And now it sits at my desk, reminding everyone in the office that I’m stronger than the NY Jets.

PS- our caddie’s putt reads grew increasingly worse as the day progressed. It wasn’t until I spotted him behind a tree, ripping a bowl with Zah, that I figured out why. By the 10th hole, he was simply riding in the cart with Zah, silent as a tombstone, earning his tip the hard way.