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If I had a living room like this when I was a kid, I would probably would have never left the house. VideoBash is your first and final stop for free funny videos, games and pictures guaranteed to brighten up your day. San Jose rapper Antown’s new video “Living Every Dream” has been out for not even a week and already he’s sneaking up on 10,000 views on Youtube.
The music isn’t retro, per say, though it is a simple no nonsense funky beat reminiscent of DNA’s famous remix of Susan Vega’s song, “Tom’s Diner.” Antown’s flow is direct and natural. Antwon’s new album, End of Earth, which features “Living Every Dream” will be released on August 2 on his bandcamp page. Covering Silicon Valley nightlife at the area’s best clubs and live music venues, Activate features regular updates on local and touring bands, events, reviews and more. A 35-year-old amateur raised in Minnesota and living in River Falls, Wisconsin, Schmitz is going to play the Masters for you, Joe Six-putt, because he sure understands this journey is way too big to be all about him. The responsibility of playing the Masters for the common man, Schmitz said, "is one I feel every day." He hears it in phone calls and emails from fellow anonymous golfers across the heartland, and in the messages sent from strangers around the country who contributed to the GoFundMe campaign to help cover his travel expenses on trips to Augusta to practice and compete. Steven remembers one of his four children, Sammy, starting his relationship with the game of golf by swiping Fountain Valley's range balls as a fifth or sixth grader.
If only to persuade Sammy to stop taking the balls, Olson offered the boy a membership and a job washing carts. Until he started washing those carts, and knocking the ball around, and taking some lessons with the local pro. No major colleges recruited Sammy, so he signed up to play golf for Saint John's of Collegeville, Minnesota, where he grew into a Division III All-American before turning pro and competing in what was then known as the Hooters Tour. The way Sammy explained it, a year and change on the mini-tour circuit felt too much like a joyless grind. Natalie had flown in for the start of the tournament, but missed her husband's semifinal match after she returned home to work her shift at the hospital. Natalie had been home for all of 16 hours between trips, but there was no way she was missing this. The previous April, Sammy had gathered with his father and a family friend, Tom Ladendorf, at their favorite Farmington place, the Longbranch Saloon & Eatery, where you can still get a chopped sirloin dish for 10 bucks. Everyone assumed the golfer would be showing up at the Masters as a fan, just like his dad. Sammy leaned over to pick up his tee and began marching toward the fairway when he was stopped cold by a roar that could only mean one thing. Sammy jumped into Hanner's arms and shrieked, "No way." He grabbed his head with both hands, pulled off his visor, and accepted congratulations from Dull and his caddie. Glued to his computer, Sammy's father was trying to figure out how it was possible his son had won the hole when Dull's score was listed as a 2; he figured it was a simple scoring mistake.
Natalie was standing with Sammy's friends, Jesse Polk and Jordan Hawkinson, near the 15th green as the ball trickled down to the pin. Sammy pulled the ball out of the cup, pumped it with his right fist, and started thinking some strange thoughts on his walk to the 16th tee, his lead up to three with three to play. Sammy got the official Masters invitation in the mail on New Year's Eve, but he'd already made one of his practice trips to Augusta in early December. This week, when he attempts to become the first Mid-Amateur champ to make a Masters cut, Sammy Schmitz gets to try everything for real. His mother Barb, a buyer for an intermediate school district, will join her husband among the many family members in attendance.

Simon will join his parents, too, and he said a weekend appearance in Rounds 3 and 4 for his brother would mean the world to him. This much is certain: Sammy Schmitz played good enough to earn his place in the Masters, where some Vegas oddsmakers list him at 2,500-1 to win.
So go ahead and enjoy your two to four days inside the Augusta National ropes with Sammy Schmitz. The funniest jokes and the most unbelievable pranks caught on tape have been collected in one spot for your viewing pleasure.
The muted colors and the occasional shaky screen give the video an eerily accurate 80s look with VHS qualities. The video consists mostly of shots of him driving around, his backup dancers, roller coasters and of course the green neon scrolling credits at the end. His genius, lyrically, is in how he always manages to find a way to weave the serious with the not-so-serious and the sample sounds like an early 90s female R & B singer swelling in and out of key to almost surreal levels.
His old man, Steven, was a carpenter and truck driver who later became a senior operations and maintenance technician for Northern Natural Gas. The man who still runs the course, Bryce Olson, knocked on the front door looking to retrieve his stolen property. Sammy made his share of cuts, and his younger brother Simon kept encouraging him to chase his zillion-to-one dream of landing a spot on the PGA Tour. When she got word that Sammy had advanced to the 36-hole final, she left her daughters Aubree and Allie with her mother, found a late flight to Atlanta from Minneapolis-St. Before he got serious again about golf, her husband had spent most of his winters as a recreational hockey player, a youth league hockey ref and fan of the Minnesota Wild, his woods and irons kept in storage. They were watching the final round of the Masters on TV when Steven Schmitz turned to his son and said, "Sammy, that place is so incredibly beautiful that I'm going to take off from umping softball one year and we're going to go. In fact, until a local coach informed him the night before Sammy's 36-hole final at the U.S.
15 on the course, which was a short, uphill par-4 -- with a two-hole lead on Marc Dull of Lakeland, Florida. Sammy's brother Simon was also following the tournament online when Sammy's score came up as a 1. He asked himself if he would go down as the first player in USGA history to make a hole in one on the 33rd hole, go dormie, and then lose. The club's elders allowed Sammy to bring his old man, to let him ride along in a cart, and father and son stayed out there as long as Sammy could see. He couldn't get over how much the place blew away his own imagination, and the televised images that so moved his father at the Longbranch Saloon & Eatery the previous spring. He will tee it up Thursday as the 2,535th-ranked amateur in the world, and as a banged-up former hockey player with a bad back and a shoulder that comes unhinged here and there. Steven considered driving to Augusta in his 1996 Toyota Camry, the one with 346,000 miles on it (he's not a big fan of flying), but couldn't get a refund on his already purchased plane ticket.
The backup dancer’s outfits look plucked right out of season one of “A Different World.” Their synchronized moves seem taken directly from a scene from an early Spike Lee movie.
You figured that big-screen TV you spent months saving up for would be the closest you ever got to that greener-than-green grass and whiter-than-white sand at Augusta National, didn't you?
If you've got too many bills to pay to consider buying one of the most exclusive tickets in sports, Sammy Schmitz is here to swing open those forbidding gates for you. In 1987, Steven himself built the family's rambler house right across the street from the Fountain Valley Golf Club in Farmington, Minnesota.

Steven called up Sammy from the basement, and the kid arrived at the door with two five-gallon pales full of hard evidence. Sammy was all of 5-foot-8, 130 pounds when he entered high school, and it was already clear if he wanted to play a college sport, it would not be in skates. He regained his amateur status, remained relatively dormant for four or five years while working in the health care industry, and suddenly decided in 2011 he wanted to try to become Minnesota's player of the year. Paul (no flights to Florida were available), and flew there with a couple of Sammy's friends. Now he had a chance to win a national title and, of course, an invitation to the most prestigious major championship on the planet. Sammy pulled out his driver, measured the target 270 to 275 yards away, and hit a cut into the right-to-left wind.
Sammy's buddies started crying, and one of them is talking about the Masters, and I'm like, 'Are you kidding me guys?' Pull your s--- together. He answered his own question firmly with a striped 3-iron at the par-3 that nearly hit the stick.
A veteran club caddie showed him every trick of the Augusta National trade, and Steven Schmitz loved every minute of this bucket list item come to life. He said that Sunday would mark the fifth-year anniversary of the day he took his last drink. These funny clips crackle with humor and they will definitely have you laughing till your sides hurt. The donating strangers chipped in $25,000 in two and a half days before the Schmitzes stopped the fundraising effort for fear of ending up with far more money than they needed. He won that state title once, twice, three, then four times in five years, and he carried his rekindled passion into last October's U.S. They rented a car, made the eight-hour overnight drive, and pulled into the John's Island Club parking lot just as Sammy was walking to the first tee. Sammy used his left arm to shield his eyes from the sun as he watched his ball land on what was a sloping, wildly unpredictable green. His son landed two tee shots on the 12th green and they celebrated with a beer right there on the Hogan Bridge and said Amen Corner to that. He tried playing the course a couple of weeks ago with the scoreboards, bleachers and towers in place, just to simulate game-day conditions as much as possible.
Sammy has found a place for blue collars among the green jackets and, with a little help from a GoFundMe page, he's put you, Mr.
Slammin' Sammy is going to put you in the same locker room with Rory McIroy, on the same tee boxes with Jordan Spieth, and on the same back nine that turned Tiger into Tiger, Arnie into Arnie, Jack into Jack.
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