Exclusive Interview with Louis DiFez

After the successful interview of Dr. David Funk, official news correspondent, Ian Ding, was granted unprecendented access to another co-founder and co-president of KeyPAP, Mr. Louis DiFez.  In this rare opportunity in getting to know Mr. DiFez, Ian Ding discussed the 2013 Penn Tower Classic (PTC), his life, and what the KeyPAP means to him.

As I walked to meet Mr. DiFez on a scorching mid-summer at his downtown Philadelphia apartment, an air of nervousness overcame me.  I was waiting to meet with one of the valiant competitors in this year’s PTC.  I take the obnoxiously slow elevator to his 8th floor corner penthouse, which overlooks Center City Philadelphia.  He greets me with a smile, a firm handshake, and a strong gaze from his dark-chocolate brown eyes.  But behind his pleasantries, I sense a fragility, a somberness, which can only be caused by the exhausting course of events that is the PTC.  It is two days since the tournament, and from his all-black attire, he is clearly still in mourning.  This is what he had to say . . .

Ian Ding:  Mr. DiFez, it certainly is a pleasure to meet with you today. 
Louis DiFez:  No problem, Ian, the pleasure is mine. And please, call me Fez.

Ding:  Alright Fez, to begin, the first annual Penn Tower Classic has come and passed in grandiose style.  I know you were very vocal about your performance that day.  Can you give us what you were thinking going into the day, your expectations, and what you hoped for the championship? 
Fez:  Well, to start, I just want to congratulate my fellow competitors for a job a well done.  I especially want to congratulate Beebles on his victory; I know he grinded and the last few holes were difficult for him, but he scratched and clawed his way to a win.  For me, going into the PTC is preparing for the unthinkable, the unbearable, and the unknown.  Our ritual on the evening before left every competitor on an even playing field, with only our skills left to shine on the course . . .

Ding:  I’m sorry, but let me interrupt you for a second.  What exactly happened the night before the championship?
Fez: [laughs] Well, I don’t want to give away exactly what occurred, but I will say that we definitely all went into Sunday with the same physical burden.

Ding: [chuckles] I guess it will remain a mystery.  So please, continue.
Fez:  Right, so my thought process was to remain calm, to trust my instincts, and to know that even if I made mistakes, most likely my competition would make mistakes as well.  That is all easier said than done.  I also figured that the course would be playing firm and fast.  And boy, did it ever.  The greens were lightening quick and undulated with the best of them: Augusta, Royal Melbourne, Oakmont.  The team at Forest Park did a great job to make our life difficult.

Ding:  Please tell us what happened before the dreaded, the infamous, “The Collapse.”
Fez:  The images are scarred into my memory, the memories are burned into my thoughts; I replay the holes over and over in my head.  Through three holes, I was in second place and feeling confident, dare I say overconfident.  Gamesmanship is all part of golf, so trash talk was flowing like the wines of Rome as we walked to the fourth hole, which was a par 5.  One part of my game that I have recently been putting a lot of work into is my driver, however, it betrayed me that day.  I took a 2-stroke penalty off the tee and that rattled me.  I followed up with a couple chunky shots. I got to the green on my 8th shot, and was in the hole at 11.  I was devastated, frustrated, and extremely rattled going into the fifth hole.  The 5th was a dog-leg right par 4.  I sliced my drive into the woods, and then put what would be my 3rd shot short of a right fairway bunker.  I chunked my next shot into said bunker, and then spent my next two or three shots getting out of that bunker.  Again, when it was over, I put up an 11 again.  Can you believe that? [chuckles] Back-to-back 11s!  I knew, at that point, that I was out of the competition, but I tried to stay hungry.  I made a few pars, and a nice birdie at the 7th hole.  But I was mentally checked-out at that time and knew that it was over for me.

 Ding:  Well, most certainly you finished with class and dignity.  And I can also say that you put a reasonable round considering the agony that you endured in the PTC.
Fez:  I believe that is one of man’s greatest qualities:  the ability to endure; to get up for more after being knocked down.  A great man once said, “To live is to suffer, but to survive, that’s to find meaning in the suffering.” I certainly found meaning in my suffering that day, it caused me to work a little more seriously on my game.  Oh, and that great man I spoke of, it was DMX.

Ding:  Any final thoughts for the upcoming Penn Tower Classic Qualifier?
Fez:  Dr. [David] Funk and I were actually mutually discussing this at the 2013 PTC.  I felt overweight and out of shape. I am in the process of getting back into shape and losing weight.  I would like to go into the PTCQ down about 15-20 lbs.  I have also been working heavily on my game:  reworking my swing and getting back to the basics.  I feel that, in the end, I will shine at the PTCQ.  Things won’t be perfect, they never are, but I will focus and do the best that I can.

Ding:  Riveting, just riveting.  So, being the only member of KeyPAP who does not yet have a graduate degree, what are your plans for future?
Fez:  Again, it’s an honor and privilege to be in a group of such distinguished and accomplished gentlemen.  I will be a doctor soon, and I plan on being the best doctor I can be, while still retaining my roots and knowing where I came from and how hard I worked to get here.

Ding:  Well, Fez, it’s been a wonderful time. Thank you again for your time, and good luck in the Penn Tower Classic Qualifier.
Fez:  You’re welcome, Ian, it’s been my pleasure.

2013 Penn Tower Classic, Part II

Fez's black Lexus hurdled along I-80 as New York City's majestic skyline slowly came into focus through the front windshield.  Beebles was laying back in the passenger seat for a nap and Funk was reading a book in the back.  The sun slowly settled into the western horizon, only half of it visible in the rearview mirror.  Night time was fast approaching.  Traffic slowed as the three men approached the George Washington Bridge.

Bebbles decided to sit up as he realized bumper-to-bumper traffic was not conducive to sleep.  Fez, seeing that Beebles had risen from his slumber, cranked up the volume on the car stereo.

       Bandz a make her dance
       Bandz a make her dance
       These chicks clappin'
       And they ain't using hands

Fez was rapping along with Juicy J and it wasn't long before Beebles and Funk joined in on the fun.  The car buzzed with energy.

       2 Chainz, four bracelets
       Let me see that ass clap, standing ovation
       If yo girl don't swallow kids, man that ho basic

As the three got louder and started moving to the music, the car started to shake back and forth on the bridge, drawing inquisitive looks from adjacent travelers.  But Fez, Beebles, and Funk were in a world of their own and didn't have a care in the world as to what anyone else thought of their antics.  They were a mere 16 hours away from the start of the most challenging athletic endeavor they had ever faced:  the 2013 Penn Tower Classic.

As Fez, Beebles, and Funk made their way across the GWB, Smits was finishing up work in his office several blocks south of them on 34th Street.  The day had been a long and grueling one for the structural engineer.  He had been summoned to the field in the morning to help with construction inspection at the World Trade Center site, then returned to the office in the afternoon where he was assigned the task of completing urgent calculations for his project manager.  Stressed, hungry, and eager for the night's coming festivities he stormed out the front door and weaved his way through the pedestrian traffic, rejecting two requests for spare change on the way down to the subway station.  When the Queens-bound E train finally arrived he sat down in the air conditioned car, laid his head back against the window and closed his eyes.  Flashes of narrow fairways and tightly cut greens were interspersed with images of women dancing in clothes which showed off ample cleavage.

As the subway slowed to a stop at the 67th Avenue station, Smits darted out the door and up the stairs to his apartment.  He quickly got undressed, showered, and got ready for the arrival of the three other KeyPAP co-founders and co-presidents.  Smits was elected to serve as host for the first PTC.  The reputation of KeyPAP put a lot of pressure on him to provide stellar hosting services.   He was determined to live up to these lofty expectations.

At 7:00pm Fez, Beebles, and Funk arrived, 2 Chainz still blasting through the car stereo as they parallel parked along 67th Road.  Smits walked out on the street to greet everyone.

Smits "Gentlemen, good to see you again.  How long did it take you guys to get here?"
Fez "Only like an hour and 69 minutes."

They brought their luggage up to apartment 6N, finally getting a chance to kick back and relax.  Each member of this foursome bad been a top notch and well respected member of the academic community at The Pennsylvania State University four years prior.  Due to each of their separate vigorous pursuits of a graduate education they had seldom found the time or money required to have a post-graduate rendezvous.  But now that Beebles, Funk, and Smits had professional degrees to their names, life had slowed down enough for this raucous crew to be reunited.

They wasted no time breaking into Smits' liquor cabinet.  They threw back several shots of Absolut Pears, the official alcoholic beverage of KeyPAP, before making their way to the first bar of the night on Austin Street.  They ordered a round of cocktails and beer after being seated by the petite Asian waitress.  Fez almost immediately acquired a target of the opposite sex a few feet away.  He quickly threw back the last of his drink and made his way to the bar for the first approach of the night.

Fez "Did you come here tonight to meet your dream man?"
Girl "[smiling] Maybe.  Let me know if you see him."
Fez "Let me help you out.  He's about 5'-7" Italian and used to be a cheerleader in college."
Girl "Wait, you were a cheerleader in college?  I'm sorry, but that's a deal breaker for me."

She turned away and walked back to her group of friends before Fez even had a chance to explain.  He had shed blood, sweat and tears, suffered broken bones and even a mild concussion for that gig, and this broad wasn't even going to give him the light of day.  Such is the state of the present day American dating scene.

The drink orders started to come more rapidly after the dejected Fez returned to the table.  The foursome engrossed themselves in vigorous discussions.  Topics included alternate universes, popular music, vertical bacon smiles, new sexual positions, and athletics.  Before they knew it the clock was tolling 11:00pm.

Originally, the KeyPAP co-founders and co-presidents had planned to spend the night at local bars in Queens for a few drinks and light conversation in order to rest for the PTC the next morning.  But the Manhattan nightlife became too much of a temptation to supress.  Once they got within a short subway ride from the city, they were drawn into the bright lights like an asteroid which wanders into Earth's gravitational pull.

The men took the R train into Manhattan, arriving just before midnight.  They walked out onto the 34th Street sidewalk, gazing up at the skyscrapers which loomed over mid-town.

Beebles "The night is still young; let's drink!"
Smits "Where do you guys want to go?  I only know a few places."
Funk "My friend is working at Libation tonight.  Let me see if he can get us in."

Funk fired off a text to his contact as the men strolled down Broadway, taking in the sights:  buildings squeezed one right next to another, hipsters propped up against dingy buildings taking smoke breaks, thin women in tight clubwear.  They were filled with excitement.

A minute later Funk's text message was answered.

Funk "He said we're in.  Let's go there now."

Twenty minutes later, despite not meeting the club's dress code, the co-founders and co-presidents of KeyPAP were granted access to the front doors of Libation.  Through a missing link in the chain of communication, the bouncer had not been warned of their arrival by Funk's inside contact.  But the men gave off such a strong aura of professionalism and confidence that he couldn't justify turning them away - shorts or not.

Once inside they were whisked upstairs to the VIP floor which overlooked the masses of full-paying customers.  The dance floor below reeked of sexual awkwardness and desperation.  They were grateful to have their own bar service upstairs, as well as the power to grant select females access to this coveted area of the club.

As the club began to fill up, Fez, eager to rebound from his first approach of the night, was the first to take advantage of this privilege.  While Smits, Beebles, and Funk were reminiscing about old times, Fez quietly tip-toed down the stairs and made his way over to a pair of blondes at the far end of the floor.  He pulled out his iPhone which had a picture of his young nephew on the lock screen.

Fez "Hey, can I ask you a question?  Is it creepy for me to have this picture on my phone?"
Blonde 1 "That all depends.  Do you know that kid?"
Fez "Yes, I know him.  He's my nephew."
Blonde 1 "I think that's okay then."

Blonde 2 smiled and nodded in agreement.  Since his departure from the VIP floor was sudden and unannounced, Smits, Beebles, and Funk took a minute to realize where Fez had gone and what he was out to do.  Once they spotted him and his prey on the first floor they hastily moved over to the edge of the balcony to see if Fez could make this approach a success.

After observing his fellow clansman for a few minutes, Beebles decided it was time for him to take action.  His loins ached for a dish of hot china, and much to his delight he was able to acquire a target in the form of a petite Korean broad.  Off he went to the first floor to try to meet the needs which his boner placed on him.  The two elder clansmen remained on the VIP floor sipping their cocktails while watching their brethren battle it out below.  Talk was light between the two men; each had something weighing heavily on the mind, but didn't dare speak of it.  KeyPAP is a respectful organization and one of the pillars of their relationships was the proper respect for competition.  Funk and Smits would be slugging it out on the greens in just a few hours.  There was nothing to be gained by either man in a discussion of the impending Penn Tower Classic.

The hours went by at a snail's pace compared to the number of drinks consumed.  Smits and Funk made a steady stream of cocktail orders while discussing married life while Beebles and Fez tried to close on their prey by inviting them upstairs for VIP club service and titillating conversation.  At 3:00am, an hour before closing time, both Fez and Beebles made their way back to Smits' and Funk's table exhausted from their efforts, but with nothing to show.  In the game of slaying pussy the peaks and valleys are extreme with virtually no middle ground.  On the eve of the 2013 Penn Tower Classic it was just not meant to be.  Maybe the PTC weighed too heavily on their subconscious minds, maybe the women were legitimately not attract to the them.  At this point only pure, cumbersome conjecture can be offered.

Smits hailed a cab in the street just outside Libation's front doors.  Beebles slurred out one more "The night is still young!" chant, but it was clear his heart wasn't truly in it.  At almost 4:00am the men arrived back at Smits' apartment and literally collapsed onto the floor a mere four and a half hours out from tee-off.

To be continued . . .

Exclusive Interview With Dr. David Funk

Today, KeyPAP's official news correspondent, Ian Ding, sat down with Dr. David Funk, co-founder and co-President of KeyPAP.  They talked about life, defeat, redemption, and the Penn Tower Classic.  Dr. Funk recently suffered a heartbreaking 2-stroke loss in the already infamous 2013 Penn Tower Classic (PTC).  This is what he had to say . . .

Ian Ding: Hello Dr. Funk, How are you doing today?
Dr. Funk: I’m doing fine thank you. You can call me Dave, after all I’m basically just like everyone else [winks]. 

Ding: [laughs] Well then, let’s get started.  I want to get right to it and ask you about the PTC.  What was it like going out there and mixing it up with Pennsylvania’s finest professionals?
Funk:  I’m going to be honest with you.  I was not too worried going into the match. The KeyPAP pre-match rituals were friendly and unassuming.  Little did I know what was about to ensue that day.  We went out there and immediately after the first tee I knew that this was going to be a fight that would take everything that I had.  Let me talk first about the mind games the PTC can play on a man.  With its now famous no stroke limit per hole, every shot set the stage for a potential meltdown.  I saw one of those meltdowns first hand early in the competition and frankly, it was tough to watch.  It was a shame, he didn’t have a chance with the pressure of the PTC on his shoulders.  After all he was the only player in the top four that had yet to finish grad school; to be involved with this group before graduating is an amazing accomplishment in its own right, but to expect that he could handle the trials and tribulations of the entire PTC was a bit much to ask.  I mean he was just a kid.  No matter, with two 11-stroke holes in a row he was essentially out of the competition before it started.

"I mean, he was just a kid."

Ding:  That must have taken a little of the pressure off of you, going from three competitors to two.
Funk:  You would think that wouldn’t you?  Watching that poor kid melt down like that just piled on the pressure for all of us. We knew that each bad shot we hit could be the hole that put us out of contention; we had just seen it happen.  As we came down the stretch the pressure mounted.  We saw grown men teeing off with low irons on par 4’s, petrified that they would be the PTC’s next victim.  Then the second meltdown came.  Completely unexpected, one of the most fundamental and conservative players on the KeyPAP Tour put three straight tee shots onto the Jackie Robinson Parkway.  Only two remained.

Ding: (on the edge of my seat at this point) I can actually feel your nerves at this point.  I mean, I know the outcome but I still can’t help but feel nervous for you.
Funk:  Ah, this demonstrates how difficult it is to explain the scoundrel that is the PTC.  At this point both of our nerves were shot. You can’t have that kind of stress on the mind for four hours and still process information on a meaningful level.  We were zombies.  My final challenger was saying things like, “Do you think that we are the most handsome foursome on the golf course today?”  This is not normal conversation while in the teeth of battle.  Finally I pulled out the rattler [this is the name Dave gave his 7 iron because of the loose material that rattles inside when it is held upside down] and put my tee shot in the water on a late round par 3 which ended my day and gave the PTC trophy to its rightful owner.

Ding:  That is as thrilling a sports story as I have ever had narrated to me.  How did it feel after it was all said and done?
Funk: I think that when I see the trophy presented at the presentation ceremony it will be the most difficult thing I will ever have to watch.  To be so close . . .  I imagine this moment in my mind and it is almost unbearable, the real thing will hurt exponentially.

Ding:  To what do you attribute your bitter defeat?
Funk:  There is a threefold answer to that question:  pride, fatigue, and mental exhaustion.

Ding:  Do you think that next year your experience will pay off and give you a better chance to win?
Funk:  Listen, you don’t get to be a member of the KeyPAP by resting on your laurels.  You work for it.  I plan to send a message to the rest of the tour at the KeyPAP qualifier this August.

"My body betrayed me."

Ding:  How do you plan to do this?
Funk: The mental exhaustion is unavoidable in a tournament of this caliber.  So I will address my other two downfalls.  I’m going to be completely honest with you.  My body betrayed me.  I was in the lead for nearly all of the front nine.  When the back nine came around and I no longer had all of my mental faculties available to me I had to rely on my body which was as doughy and unprepared for an event of this magnitude as it has ever been.  I plan to come into the PTCQ 15-20 pounds lighter and when my mind shuts down and relies on the motor patterns engrained into my body from the last 26 years, my body will be able to produce at its highest potential.  As for pride, I will be competing with a new set of clubs this time around.  The new set I will be using is only slightly newer and less dead than my last but it is a full set with no rattlers.  I convinced myself that I knew my clubs and that they were good enough.  Then my beloved rattler sat one right next to Davey Jones and I was out of the competition.  The last and most important aspect of my training is that I will play as little golf as possible in the next month leading up to the PTCQ.  One month of practice will mean nothing at this point.  As I have said many times before you cannot use your mind during the second half of these matches.  So developing new strategies and techniques would only compound the problems associated with the tour.  I will be relying completely on my primal golf instincts.

Ding:  Well Dave, our time is up for today and I must say, the pleasure was all mine.  I wish you all the best in the upcoming PTCQ.
Funk:  Thank you for having me, the re-telling of the story is humbling and it can only contribute to the spiritual growth one needs to call themselves a champion.

2013 Penn Tower Classic, Part I

There are but a handful of sporting events which live on in the memory of all citizens of the United States.  These are the games that make the front page of newspapers and never seem to fade from the collective memory of this great country.  They transcend sport itself and capture the attention and admiration of everyone, even those who don't normally watch sports.  There was Babe Ruth's called shot in the 1932 World Series.  Joe Namath's guarantee of victory in Super Bowl III.  The Miracle on Ice at the 1980 Winter Olympic Games.

Add to that list the first annual Penn Tower Classic golf tournament played on June 23, 2013.

The masses descended upon the venerable Forest Park Golf Course in Queens, NY for one of the most spectacular athletic events ever witnessed.  Children were awestruck.  Grown men wept.  The elderly shook their head in disbelief.  This author can confidently state America was changed for the better that day.

With only one tournament under its belt, the KeyPAP Tour has already usurped the quadrennial Olympic games as the world's most prestigious athletic competition.  For it is not merely a test of athletic ability; it is the ultimate fusion of war, social aptitude, intellect, and athletic prowess.

The audience may have shown up at daybreak on June 23, but the competition truly started the night before.

To be continued . . .