So you wanna know about that Colorado teacher deal at the US Open? Yeah, that whole thing. Buckle up, this is gonna be messy but honest.
How It Started? Pure Accident
I’m just chillin’ Saturday morning, scrolling through my phone while pretending to grade papers. Boom. Random Instagram post pops up about some “Teacher Appreciation” thing at the US Open golf tournament nearby. Looked weird. Kinda unofficial maybe? Didn’t matter. Thought, “Heck, free golf stuff? For teachers? Sign me up.” Clicked the stupid form faster than my kids asking for extra recess.
Filled it out real quick. Name, school email (felt weird using my work one for golf?), checked the box saying I teach science to middle schoolers. Slammed submit. Done. Figured it vanished into the internet void. Forgot about it faster than a kid forgets homework.
Then, Panic Sets In
Cut to Tuesday afternoon. School bell rings, I’m drowning in papers and lunchbox spills. Phone buzzes. Unknown number. Normally ignore those, but picked up. Some dude sounds all official. “Congratulations! You’re selected! US Open Teacher Experience!”
My brain flatlined. Selected? For what? Wait, THAT thing? No way. Felt like winning the lottery you didn’t buy a ticket for. Dude rattles off instructions:
- Show up Thursday morning at the crack of dawn (like, 6 AM?!).
- Bring your school ID (hope the picture doesn’t look too zombie-like).
- Dress comfy (as if I own anything else).
- Free ticket for the whole freakin’ day.
Told him I’d be there. Hung up. Looked at my desk piled high with ungraded labs. Oh boy.
Making It Happen Was a Circus
Wednesday was pure chaos. Found a sub last minute? Lucky. Explained to my confused students why Mr. Harris was missing – “Golf thing.” Their faces? Priceless. Set lesson plans that basically said, “Don’t burn down the lab.” Packed my bag:
- Layered clothes (Colorado mornings freeze you, afternoons roast you).
- Sunscreen the size of a small car battery.
- Comfy shoes that have seen too many hallways.
- A hat my wife says looks stupid (I wore it anyway).
Couldn’t sleep. Alarm went off at 4 AM. Felt like a crime against sleep.
The Big Day: Confusion, Walking, and Wow
Rolled into parking in the dark. Felt way out of place. Staff looked fancy. We teachers? Looked like we rolled out of bed (we did). They herded us like slightly bewildered sheep onto a bus. Silence mostly. Nobody’s this awake without coffee.
Got badges at some hidden tent. Cool lanyard though. Then… they dropped us off. “Teacher experience starts at the merchandise tent!” they said. What experience? Buying stuff?
Turned out, kinda. Got a huge goodie bag stuffed like Santa’s sack early Christmas morning. Hat, shirt, pin, towel… some nice gear! Score! Met other teachers. We all looked equally shocked and clutching our coffee cups. Instant bond over caffeine deprivation.
The rest? Freedom! Wandered forever. Saw pros hitting balls so pure it looked fake. Grandstands felt like climbing Everest. Heard wild cheers echo across the course. Ate overpriced food (okay, fine, the pulled pork was decent). Soaked up the vibe. Amazing. Realized, “Man, I’m really here. For free.” Felt pretty darn lucky.
Walking Away Sore But Smiling
Made it home way after dark. Feet screamed bloody murder. Exhausted.
Was it some perfect, scripted VIP tour? Heck no! Kinda clunky at points. Felt like teachers crashing a pro party.
But getting that surprise call, scrambling like crazy, walking those hills, seeing those insane shots live… worth every single step. Stoked they even do stuff like this for teachers. Still baffled I got picked. That goodie bag? Sweet bonus.
Now? Trying to explain sand traps to my kids using desks. It’s not going well.
