FROM THE DESK OF THE CEO Twenty years have come and gone, and Turbo's hair is still

perfect. T-Bone replaced the "chimmey" with the "tuck and roll" off the No. 10 tee - ya ya, we know you didn't spill your beer! Jockey J. aka Hayyyyyyyyyyyy-son Veneza-waaaaaaaaala rode his stable of horses (Boom, T-Bone and Pinky) to his first victory. Not even 3 full moons on #18 could prevent them finishing with a record 6 under and no bogies. Enjoy those 20 pesos. Did anyone know T-Roy got an eagle? Kid-Loch took the No. 20 to heart as he set his personal best - 20 beers in 18 holes - and stayed awake until 10 p.m. So much goes on that is forgotten by the 40-somethings now, we could use your help. So if you have something good contact Punk-Ass so he can post it. Speaking of the VP, he celebrated 2 decades of JZA a little too hard (or maybe just right) because his brain still is foggy from what actually happened that fateful June. Good thing there are pictures (some he doesn't remember) to jumpstart his memory. Without further eddo, here's how the men acted like boys to celebrate golf the way it should be played - hammered and out of control.

20th Annual Recap: Let's start with the end by congratulating Capt. Camel Jockey and his merry men of monkeys. Alliteration aside, three vets and a rookie pulled up their stirrups and quietly ran over the 20th tournament like the captain's family ran across the border. But it wasn't only the winning group who invented a new sport - a mix between a NASCAR-esque demolition derby we saw a few years back at Black Forrest and golf cart mud-bogging with the standing water on some of the holes. D, Sweety-P and Loch had a little too much fun making a tidal wave. Some of the usual JZA happenings emerged throughout the weekend including one-club, the uncle-nephew jam session, broken chairs and sending pisswarm shots back to the group behind. Hey O, Turbo, Smokes and Powers - do you still resent the beer bitch for calling you "a bunch of pussies" b e f o r e shooting the Jger? New this year was the poor-man's version of bags - thanks to Pinky's washerand-paint-can game. How did that burn mark get on the game again?

That must have been thanks to the Brandon Boys' contribution to the 20th the return of the fire pit. Although it only lasted the weekend, it was worth every penny. And the burn spot it made in the grass was about as big as T-Roy's ego. Turbo's new Nike Sumo driver had several names: bottle opener, spaceship, starship galactic, garbage can and Beanpole's favorite: Easton bat. But at the end he only had one name for it - shit. The old guys reminisced about their roughhouse fighting days - both when they were victorious and when they got their ass kicked. We also had fun drinking from the Canuck's Cup (which we should have stolen) and climbing through the furniture jungle gym. From Garland losing Stone's clubs once again, Mexican hat dances, hearing "Shut the Fuck up Loch" and Canadians singing "ole ole" echo throughout the course and everything in between, here's to another 20 years of (sometimes) good golf, great friends and a lot of hazy memories.