Golf is a frustrating game we love playing even though at times it drives us bonkers. I’ve been hanging around attempting to master “pasture pool” for years and don’t even pretend to have gotten more than a glimmer of how to do it right.
My thousands (millions?) of hours on the course however has given me dozens of examples of human strengths, weaknesses and foibles and some are worth sharing. Understand, this story is true…well, mostly since minor license was taken for effect but we all know the best stories are the ones that are based on fact.
For over 10 years Rick and I were best ball partners playing in local events but also travelling to tournaments all over Upstate New York. We were pretty good, we won a few but if not, we usually finished in the money. Though the prizes were not large and often were pro shop credit they were sufficient to let us tell our wives we were making money…but that’s another story.
In many ways Rick was a strange dude and often came up with some different off-the-wall ideas like we should get hotel rooms for a weekend tournament, which we sometimes did but not when the event was 12 miles from home. I said no way and he reluctantly agreed.
I could never figure out his thinking but on the other hand my wife has been saying that about me for years.
Rick was a former college fullback, a big guy who hit the ball a mile, but off the first tee we sometimes had to wait for the ball to land to see which course we would be playing that day. He had a low boiling point that he mostly kept under control though there were several courses with tee markers that didn’t look quite right after our round. Perhaps the most annoying trait though was going through spells of hitting the ball off a club’s hosel. I can’t even say the “S” word, but you know what it is.
Besides being shocking, Rick’s unannounced laterals, also known as hosel rockets, were dangerous to his foursome and ruinous for his on-course attitude.
Anyone who is familiar with the weather in Upstate NY, a.k.a. the land of snow and taxes, can appreciate that though we belonged to the same country club we didn’t see a lot of each other between October and April. So, it was with some surprise on a cold January day my receptionist said he was on the phone.
The conversation went, “Hi Rick, what’s up?”
He replied, “Not much I guess but I called to tell you that you’ll need to get a new partner for next season.”
Shocked to say the least I asked, “Why what’s the matter?”
In an even toned voice edged in desperation he said, “I can’t take it any longer. I’m not playing any good, I don’t want to practice, and you know I lose my temper sometimes. It’s just not worth It. I’m not having any fun.”
“Well, if that’s the way you feel…”
“Yeah, it is, so I’m going to buy a boat.”
“Really? A boat?”
“Yep. Ed, you can’t shank a boat!”
And that was the end of our partnership.
