After a rainy day of putting, chipping and slashing at golf balls at the Mikey's Tournament for Autism last week, I fear there are portions of my body that may never be dry again.

But, when it comes to kids, I don't mind going the extra mile - and I guess that goes for Greg Chinn, Mike Morris, Barry Bergey and the approximately 120 other golfers who participated.

When they awoke on the morning of May 27, I doubt the three men mentioned above had any idea what golf adventures awaited them.

Frankly, neither did I.

But, as the rain worked its way into cavities of my body that have never been illuminated by sunlight, I still got a sense they were having as much fun as I was.

Oh, to be in Midland's Brooklea Golf and Country Club for the start of the monsoon season!

Now retired from the Ontario Provincial Police, Morris and Chinn, I soon discovered, must have left their shooting aim back at the gun range.

"Greg was an excellent shot because I went with him when he had to go for re-testing," said Morris, my cart partner and the former detachment commander at the Highway 12 office.

All kidding aside, both Morris and Chinn did hit it long.

The only problem was making physically draining chipping shots out of swamps, tree stumps and rough high enough to conceal television family "Jon and Kate Plus 8."

The banter between Chinn and Morris was priceless, and it was easy to see Chinn, a well-respected former constable and media relations officer, was having a ball getting verbal digs in at his old boss.

As for Bergey, he looked every bit the part of Indiana Jones, resplendent in his fedora and matching Johnny Cash "Man in Black" rain suit.

A bookkeeper by trade, I quizzed Bergey if there was any way I could claim my two cats, Dale and Sylvester, as dependents.

His silence indicated my chances with the Canada Revenue Agency are slim.

Illness has restricted my golf outings this spring, so I was somewhat worried about my swing when I headed to the tee.

And, wouldn't you know it, the best shot I hit all day was near the end of the round, a six-iron knocked to within eight feet from 160 yards.

Yes, there is hope.

As usual, tournament MC John Gordon did a masterful job at dinner, displaying wit so sharp it could cut through concrete.

I eagerly await the pilot for his Comedy Network series, titled "John Gordon Unleashed: Take My Nine Iron, Please."

As the last piece of apple pie was digested at dinner and the last of the presentations was made, the wetness of the day was forgotten.

What resonated in the ears of the golfers was one clear thought: Simply by their appearance, they had helped make the difference in the life of an autistic child in Ontario.

That's probably worth putting in 1,000 monsoons.

mdodd@simcoe.com