Let me tell you how the ladies do it

Once upon a time, the Canadian Women’s Open came to Legends on the Niagara, the superb complex located just shy of Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada. Actually, it was last summer. Meg Mallon was the ultimate victor, making it two national championships in a short span. Given an opportunity to support the LPGA by volunteering, the RonMonster (year, I know, self-reference in the third person) spent a few days handing out golf balls and refilling club-scrub buckets on the driving range. Other than the die-hard local colonials, whose accents and unique views on New Yorkers will remain with me forever, the enduring images are of the talented ladies of the LPGA. In no particular order, here they are:

–Marilyn Lovander, in between drags on a cigarette, smashing shot after shot deep on the firing range, in spite of her advancing age;
–Christina Kim, bedecked in all the colors of the new-age rainbow, laughing and smiling, joking and relating to everyone within earshot;
–Jennie Rosales, fresh off her near-miss at Holyoke, stylin’ with her MP3, her swagger, her shades, and her sweet, sweet game;
–Beth Daniel, grand dame of the tour, politely answering inane questions from local radio hosts who know as much about golf and women’s golf as I know about . . . astrophysics;
–Lori Kane and Dawn Coe-Jones, carrying the hopes and dreams of Canadian golf fans as they battle their way to a fifth-place tie. If Mallon doesn’t run away with the title, they’re in the thick of things;

These ladies rock? You bet your briefs! Watch ‘em in person and you’ll know what I mean.