By ED TRAVIS
Before relating a true golf story, a moment to talk about baseball, my former favorite sport. As a kid I was a mediocre infielder and probably never had a batting average above .220 but loved the game especially the New York Yankees and Mickey Mantle. I even had a Mantle rookie baseball card that would be worth lots today if I hadn’t pitched it about the time George Steinbrenner took over.
The baseball question in my mind is, are the much hyped “torpedo” bats in the same category as 500cc titanium-carbon fiber-tungsten 48” long drivers that are verboten in golf because, according to lords of the game based in Liberty Corner, N.J., they make the game too easy?
If game-improvement drivers of this type are outlawed should game-improvement bats meet the same fate?
Just asking.
Anyway, after playing golf for several decades, studying the equipment we have and the way we are to use it, I have come to the conclusion most of everything I know for sure could be written on the inside of a matchbook cover with a broad-tip Sharpie with room left over.
I have learned, however, that saying golfers are a strange bunch is not overstating the case. This little episode seems improbable, but it happened, and it is strange.
The club to which I belonged had a loop of four holes near the clubhouse starting with a downhill par-5 followed by a medium length par-3 which holds a particular spot in my heart as it was where I got my first hole-in-one. It was in the semifinals of the match play championship and the other guy calmly said, “Nice shot,” and teed it up anyway. I guess he thought he could top me.
He didn’t and I won the hole, but it must have gone to my head because I lost the match.
Another aside, that first hole-in-one was back in the early 1970s and if you were using a Titleist ball, sending it and the tee with an attested scorecard to Titleist they would return them mounted on a plaque. I did and they did except it never dawned on me until I unwrapped the plaque, the ball had a significant dent right through the Titleist script logo and the tee was pink. Of course, the guys who mounted the plaque must have thought it was funny, but my masculinity was so threatened I never put the plaque on the wall.
But, back to our story. I was in the pro shop one afternoon and two ladies came in wanting to play a few holes. They had been taking group lessons from our pro and felt it was time to try playing on the course.
The pro, gracious as all club pros are, said certainly, “Start right out there and remember sure to use the red tees.”
“We will,” and off they went, big smiles on their faces each carrying a small bag with about five clubs.
Half an hour later they came trudging up the hill and obviously had not played all four holes.
I was still in the pro shop drinking coffee killing time which was more fun than going back to the office, so I heard what transpired next.
The ladies came in with downcast faces and the pro said. “Back so soon?”
“We are,” said one of them. “We had to come back.”
“Oh, was there some problem,” questioned our pro.
“Well, there was. You know how you said to play the red tee? On the second hole I broke it, and we only had one in our bags, so we had to walk back.”
After gently explaining the difference between a red tee and the red tees the pro didn’t laugh or hardly smile, which must be the reason he was qualified to be a club pro and I wasn’t. The ladies were embarrassed of course and had pickleball it been around back then they most likely would never have swung another club.
