A few weeks ago, I sat down with Ken Climo for an extended interview. We were discussing his disc golf career over the past five years or so, and on more than one occasion, Ken couldn't recall specific tournaments. "They all blend together after a while," he would say.

I can relate.

I know I have all sorts of interesting stories to tell you, but damn if I can recall any at the moment. What I really need is to sit down with Leo and John over some beers and take a few notes specifically for the Journal, but that ain't gonna happen for a while. When we're together these days, we're working; otherwise we're segregated, spending a few moments with our families.

Eight shows left for the season, although we're already working toward next year. Our international distributor was at a trade show in Monaco recently, hawking disctv to a variety of interested countries. Looks like we'll be in a dozen or so international markets next season. Good progress.

I got a little Elvis Costello going on the stereo at the moment, getting me pumped up to make the drive from Kalamazoo to Chicago to edit this week's show. It's 4:30 am. Why am I in Kalamazoo? I've maintained an apartment here throughout the year; the rent is about half the cost I'd pay in Chicago, so it's worth the drive, since I don't spend much time here anyway. Looking forward to the Sink family's annual Halloween bash this weekend. I'm told it's quite the blowout.

Had a chance to get in a round of golf yesterday. I told the guy I shot with that I wanted strokes for our tag challenge, he looked at me like I was insane until I pointed out that I've averaged about 7 holes per week throughout the season, and the effect on my game has been devastating (not that my game was ever all that hot to begin with!). If you watch the show on a regular basis, you're familiar with the segment where I throw one of the signature holes with the local tournament director. If you were to track those segments, you'd see that I was beating the TDs early in the year, then I was tying them. These days they just spank the crap out of me. It got so bad that I flipped out on John a few weeks back during our coverage of the New York States in Warwick. I couldn't throw on a straight line to save my life on a 700 foot hole, and hotly pointed out to him that I am the *only* player whose poor play is broadcast nationally every week. If you're in the tournament and don't shoot well, you just end up on the cutting room floor, but my yanks and gacks are there for all to see. It's embarrassing.

If we land a major sponsor for next season, maybe I can afford to head down to Clearwater for a month or so in the off season for some disc golf training camp. Kenny, I need help!

Brian

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