Back on The Road...for a day

Have you ever pulled into a toll booth without any money to pay the toll?

Welcome to my world.

Minutes after leaving Golf Central’s Production Control room on Monday night, I trekked south to cover Honda Classic Pre-Qualifying at Ironhorse Country Club on Tuesday morning.

A quick hop, skip and a jump on the Florida’s Turnpike followed by 10 minutes on I-95 and I would be on the doorstep of Matt Donovan and Jim Salinetti’s apartment in West Palm Beach.

Or so I figured.

That is, until I received my toll ticket just outside of Orlando, and noticed the $10.70 toll looming 138 miles away. Given that the only exit between here and there was a plaza with an ATM that was less of an ATM and more of a pain in my rear end, I was in trouble.

Cashless, as always, I asked Salinetti, “Can I pay with a credit card or am I going to have to perform a sexual favor?”

Option 2 became useless when, two hours later, the Toll Keeper I pleaded with bore a striking resemblance to Don Zimmer. Desperate times do call for desperate measures, but within certain limits.

“I think we have a problem,” I said, flashing my credit card.

At least no one pulled into the same lane as me while I filled out some remittance form and flashed the same Emergencies Only, All-American smile that had failed to get me into The Masters Tournament last April.

At 10:25, I stepped into their pad, which doubled as a shrine to everything golf. Above the TV, a framed picture of Ben Hogan’s immortalized 1-iron to the 18th green at Merion in 1950. Above the sofa, another framed picture, this one of the 1997 Francis Memorial Tournament, which Salinetti captured in 1999.

At the moment, Salinetti, a three-time Mass. Amateur champion and two-time New England Amateur champion, could be found cuddled up on the sofa, biting his fingernails and fidgeting this way and that while watching an episode of The Bachelor.

I hadn’t seen the guy in five months, and his answers could barely keep up with my questions, until he told me to shut up.

“One second,” he whispered, without making eye contact.

Good to see you too, man.

Salinetti shot a 5-over 77 on Tuesday, thanks in no part to my insistence that I interview him while he waited for the group in front of him to clear the 17th fairway.

A reporter always gets his story.

Around 1 a.m., or about five hours before an exhausted Donovan went to bed, The Scribe called it quits and ventured into Scott Hawley’s room, which was vacated since he was in Texas for a Canadian Tour event.

Or maybe I slipped into an Edwin Watts golf shop.

On the floor in his bathroom, I noticed 20 dozen Titleist balls and at least 15 Titlest gloves. In his bedroom, I counted what appeared to be two extra sets of irons on the floor and 37 Titleist hats hung on his wall.

If he isn’t on Titleist’s staff, he needs to rethink how he’s being marketed.

The next morning, Matt Donovan nearly puked up his breakfast on his way to the gym. But it wasn’t because of the pre-round jitters.

Nope.

He just saw a 9-5er heading to work in wing tips and a suit.

“Not feeling it,” said Donovan, who has been at the Mini Tour Gig since 2001.

The way he’s headed, he could be getting a promotion very soon.

He carded a 2-under-ho-hum-barely-broke-a-sweat-70 and earned his way into next Monday’s four-spot qualifier.

If you’ll remember, Donovan bogeyed his final two holes in his last Monday qualifier, at the Buick Championship in August, and fell one shot short of a playoff and two from punching a ticket to The Show.

Maybe Honda will be his ride of choice.

So I know you’re asking, “Why was The Scribe back on the road?”

Well, my producer assigned me to cover the Honda’s pre-qualifier and Monday qualifier for a two-part story scheduled to air on Golf Central March 13th and 14th.

I’ve only been at The Golf Channel for six weeks, and darn near dropped my peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the floor when he told me, but it just made sense for me to go, given that I’m possibly the only person breathing who can pick Craig Van Horn, Sam Spector, and Brian Lamberti out of lineup.

So I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.

Fifty-nine days covering Q School is beginning to pay off, although not enough to prevent my fellow colleagues at TGC from giving me a nickname.

PB, as in two PB & J’s a day, every day, for six weeks.

If only I could pay tolls with chunky peanut butter.