The only other occupant in the shuttle from the parking lot to Glen Abbey early this morning was an American caddie. His first trip to Canada was last year at this time, a week when Oakville received about nine inches of rain.
"Does it always rain in the summer up here?" he asked.
"Only during the Canadian Open," I lied.
Sure enough, at 8:38 a.m., with the 100th playing of our Open just underway, the horn sounded, suspending play.
"There's a river running across hole No. 2," I overheard a PGA Tour official say. And, knowing the course as I do, that mean's there's another river on 17, and standing water in the bunkers and on the greens.
And that's too bad, from a number of standpoints. When the Canadian Media Golf Championship was held here just over two weeks ago, the golf course was pristine. We played a scramble format from about 6,900 yards using several of the pro tees, the rough was thick and juicy, and the greens were rolling at about 10.5 on the Stimpmeter. The reason we played a scramble was because if a 15-handicapper had tried to play the course under that set-up, it would have taken him seven hours and two dozen balls. As a matter of fact, I hit one three feet over the back of the eighth green and never found it.
But enough about me. Everyone who walks into the media centre this morning says a variation of the same mantra as they shake the water off their umbrella: "It must be the first day of the Canadian Open."
If they're upset, imagine how Scott Bowman feels. Scott is the course superintendent and the heroics of he and his staff in dealing with last year's deluge somehow resulted in all 72 holes being completed on schedule. For the players, it's another stuttering start to the tournament. So far, as I look at the giant scoresheet at the front of the media centre, 2003 Canadian Open champ Bob Tway and Guy Boros have withdrawn, and the forecast for the rest of the week may have had something to do with that.