My back went out on me yesterday on the fourth hole at Verdugo Hills. Going to take things easy and stay away from the chains for a bit.
I hate getting old.

I was playing Sylmar the other day with my buddy Bailey.  As I tee’d off the first tee, I saw two girls walking down the sidewalk very close to where my disc landed.  This being a public park, I didn’t think twice, and threw another disc having not really warmed up.  That second drive was right on the money which I walked to first and shot in for a birdie.  I then looked for my first drive, which should have landed behind the pin about 40 feet or so.  It was gone.

Bailey has what we call “country eyes.”  He didn’t see what went down, but he had quite an accurate description of the two girls that had been walking up the sidewalk as I tossed my first shot.  He knew their clothing, the pant color, etc, and they were no where to be found. 

Frantically, I ran back to the club house and asked if a disc was just turned in.  They told me no.  I went on to say I think two girls just up and grabbed my disc. 

Returning to Bailey, he told me those chicks must have taken it.  I was heated now, but could do nothing about it.  My disc was gone.  It was my Star Beast, too.  My “go to” disc if you will.  I threw an ACE with that plastic, it was the most cherished disc I held in my bag, and now it was gone… stolen.

Bailey and I continued on.  I figured we gotta keep playing, that’s why we came.  Hoping to see them by the bathrooms when I walked down the fourth fairway, I looked on to nothing.  These girls just vanished.  It made no sense, why would some girls take a disc with my name and number on it?  It was also beat to hell, so they couldn’t have thought it had value.  My game went to shit, I couldn’t shake it. 

After the ninth hole, we were back at the parking lot and pro shop.  I asked again if anyone had turned in the disc.  Nope.

Then, someone ran up to me.  The wife of the course designer and owner told me that these tweakers had just stolen merchandise then played with their stolen goods.  They must have been the same group who took my disc.  Bailey’s description matched the girls this lady described, and two dudes that were with them.

The amusing part was that these guys stole some discs, then used those discs in front of the cashier they stole them from.  I mean, how dumb can you get?  After they walked off with a cooler of beer and whatever drugs they had on them, the woman at the shop called the police.  They were on their way right then and there.  Sweet, right?

Now I had a mission.  I knew these guys were going to get arrested, so I had to get my disc back before it was claimed as evidence, or something. 

Bailey and I threw holes 10 through 12 shooting pars at all 3.  As we approached 13’s tee box, I saw some dudes walking up hole 7.  Their conversation consisted of “convincing the girls to come out of the bathroom,” or something.  I figured it was the two girls who took my disc.

As these guys finished playing 7’s basket, Bailey noticed one of the guys was carrying a white disc.  It was my disc, I could tell, even from 80 yards away. 

“Hey man?” I yelled, “Did you happen to find a white disc?” He yelled back, “No.”  I asked him, “Are you sure? It says, ‘John’ on it?”  The guy looks at the disc, flips it over and obviously saw my name. He hesitated, then looked back and said, “No, dude, sorry.”

What could I do? He was obviously messed up on something, and I wasn’t about to confront a meth head for a 12 dollar piece of plastic. Or maybe I was.

These guys moved on to hole 8 which throws up directly behind hole 13’s tee pad.  I asked Bailey if he minded we wait and see if they throw my disc.  As they got to their pad, the girls who took my disc walked out of the bathrooms.  I walked straight up to them, and asked Bailey to come with me. 

“Where is my disc?”  “I saw you pick up my disc an hour ago and walk off.”  The girl admitted taking my disc but said she just threw it somewhere.  I looked at the one dude who was still with her, the other was 50 yards away, avoiding the confrontation.  I asked where the disc was.  He told me they must have thrown it somewhere. 

Short of searching them, I walked away, still empty handed.  I figured these guys wouldn’t admit to having the disc, even though they admitted to stealing it, but they were willing to give it back.  I’d play these tweakers’ game. 

I shot hole 13 which brought us back down near the restroom the tweakers claimed the girls had thrown the disc behind.  Like a couple of idiots, these guys yelled to me as I got closer to where they “thought” it might have landed.  They were dead on, I got my disc.  It happened to be right where they had thought.  More like right where they just threw it.

Whatever the case, I got my disc back.  Bailey will tell you the words exchanged on the meth head’s behalf was a bit more profane and provocative than I am letting on, but we don’t need to repeat them.

So now, I had my disc back.  Bailey was a bit spooked, not knowing what these psychos were capable of, but at the same time, we knew the cops were waiting in the parking lot for these 4. 

We finished hole 16 as the sun was almost set and then we heard that 8 cylinder engine barreling up the street.  The boys in blue had arrived. 

The 4 tweakers were still sitting back drinking their beers, and playing with the discs they had just stolen an hour prior, and they had no clue two cops were racing toward them.

The police wasted no time. They drove the squad car right down the sidewalk directly to where these tweakers were sitting.  I even waved to them as they cruised by.  I was walking up 17, where I missed a 50 foot birdie attempt.

Before Bailey and I could get to 18’s tee pad, the cops had jumped out of the patrol car, and seized all 4 deviants.  It was unbelievable, they were so beyond recognition, they couldn’t even register the fact that COPS were arresting them.  It was instant karma

I have seen several of those “World’s Dumbest Police Video’s,” and like any red-blooded-American, I’ve watched my fair share of “COPS.”  I always wondered where these people are, or if they really do exist, and let me tell you, YES, THEY DO. They show up to a public park with booze.  Then they rob the nearest establishment and proceed to loiter the grounds after the theft. Once they have consumed enough crank, their long, hard day comes to a conclusion by getting tackled to the ground by some die hard Rambo mother fuckers who are praying for this type of scenario. I had front row seats.

Don’t do Drugs (at least not the hard one’s.)

B&E + trespassing = Wonderful day of disc golf.