I Heart Roger Clark

Roger does not play golf. This is according to The Man himself who was out on a course in Van Cortlandt park this misty, moisty morning. Things got off to a bumpy start when Rog accidentally bumped his mic cube and said "What am I doing here?" (presumably in reference to his handling of the mic and not his presence on the golf course) and then exchanged some awkward convo with Pat K. when Pat asked him about his game. Roger, in no uncertain terms, said that he doesn't play and then giggled (I love that giggle! I miss that giggle.). Roger's on-site interview with a "Golf Course Ambassador" was weird for a number of reasons. First, this is the kind of stuff that makes me feel like I'm on drugs in the morning. Golf Course Ambassador? Ambassador is kind of a lofty title for the dude who keeps people from loitering on the course. Where I'm from, this is known as Security. I guess they couldn't call him the "Golf Course Bouncer." Anyway, the Ambassador didn't have a whole lot to say and so Pat and Rog were left to their own devices which usually is about as comfortable as riding over gravel in a high speed wheelbarrow. Pat told Rog he should take up golf. Roger said maybe the boss would like him more if he did. Pat said Rog's career might skyrocket if he started playing. Rog said this must be why the boss doesn't speak to him. The End. I don't know who this "boss" is, but he/she better have a darn good reason for giving our guy the cold shoulder. This is the man who barfed at a hot dog eating contest because he was trying to be down with the people; the man who almost drowned for the sake of a million Thanksgiving balloons and endured mindless chatter about Garfield with a hoard of young children. NY1 would be lost without him. And golf is a boring game anyway.