Thursday, September 30, 2021

A day at the links

It all started when Connie decided that I needed a bit more culture in my life.  Just because she goes to things like the “Ladies Tea” out on Marco Island does not mean that I cannot hang out with my buds.  See, everything that follows is her fault!!!

She finally bought two tickets to the third round of the “Ace” PGA tour event here in Naples on Saturday and informed me that at least I could go to a cultural sporting event.  Let me tell you, I found out it ain’t like football.  The golf event was held at the Twin Eagles golf club east of Naples.  It is an 18 hole championship course with mega-houses build around the playing field.  The great unwashed herd does not live there.  To get to the event we had to drive 6 miles east of the course to the Collier county fairgrounds.  Shuttle buses picked up the spectators there and transported them to the golf course.

As we entered the gated community around the course, the driver pointed out that some of the huge houses had as many as seven bathrooms.  The only kind of person that I could think of that needed or would buy such a house would be an Arab sheik with diarrhea.            Any way!!!

We found a comfortable place right on the ninth hole where the “B” flight would finish the day.  There were players like Tom Kite, (floppy hat and pink shirt), Craig Saddler (he earned the nickname “The Walrus”), And Benhard Langer. (Tall and skinny with big feet)  There were a lot more names that I did not recognize but then I am not a golf fan.  Langer was leading with a -11 on the ninth green.  You can always tell which one in the group is the Pro golfer.  He is the one with one glove in his hip pocket.  The pros all seemed to spot their first shot about 175 yards from the cup.  The course guide said it took a “long” iron to reach the green.  All the clubs looked the same length to me.

It seemed that everyone had a name tag or other means of identification.  There were the “Pro tour officials”, “The rules officials” and many more.  There was one guy that even had a card that read “Honored observer” (no joke).  I have no idea what was his claim to fame.  I shouldn’t brag but even I had a tag that I was required to wear.  It read “$10 off parking”.  The volunteer helpers all wore orange tee shirts.  They all took their jobs serious.   One of their duties was to keep the “great unwashed” quiet while the golfers were putting.  There was one fellow that I nicknamed the “chief Librarian”. As a golfer lined up his putt the Librarian would raise both arms in the air much like Eisenhower giving the victory sign.  He had about six minions placed around the green that took his lead and held up their hands as well.  After the putt was made, he would lower his arms and clap.  This was the O.K. sign for everyone else to clap.  If the golfer missed an easy putt it was permitted for the crowd to give a collective sigh.  Golf sure is a quiet spectator sport. 

There was one threesome that did really bad on their approach shots and putting.  It apparently was not a coincidence that there were five vultures circling overhead.  One of those guys made a “double bogie”. Apparently he must have won a prize for that.  Some of the guys would make a really bad shot that I am sure gave all the duffers in the gallery a warm feeling.  The caddies all carried golf bags the size of a 1962 Volkswagen.  The bags were all emblazoned with various sponsors’ logos as well as the players’ name.  The caddies held onto those bags all during the round unless they were giving the pro a club.  One of the pros was really a cheapskate.  He had his wife caddie for him.  No 10% caddie tip for him.  Nothing like keeping it all in the family.

One of the spectators just behind the rope made the mistake of trying to get a picture of one of the players with his cell phone camera.  One of the “orange shirts” dashed over and wagged a finger in his face and admonished him to not disturb the players.  There was one fellow there that had a camera with a lens as long as your arm.   He was allowed to take pictures as long as he hid behind one of the “orange shirts”.  There were also people that accompanied each group that carried what looked like a baseball bat covered with fur.  They also had a backpack with an aerial on the top.  Interesting.

There were other oddities like the woman in front of me that had a tattoo of a nicely decorated cross just above her ankle.  I tried to get a closer look to see if it was Christ on the cross but Connie took exception to my looking at the woman’s leg.  There was another woman in front of us that had a HUGE emerald cut diamond on her left hand.  She also had her toenails painted red.

As each threesome finished the round, they would go to the official scorer’s tent and sign their score cards.  Did you know that golf is the only sport where the individual keeps his own score?  I didn’t.  After the player left the tent there were “golf groupies” that wanted autographs.  They acted like teeny boppers at a rock concert.  On our way out there was a guy selling raffle tickets on a Cadillac for $25 each.  He asked me if I wanted to buy a ticket I told him, “no thanks, I already have one”.  So what if I lied to him.  Big deal.

Then it was time to get back on the bus.  Everyone was herded down a narrow aisle to the boarding point.  After enough people had passed to fill the bus, a cattle gate was placed across the aisle to stop people.  We got on the bus and had a nice ride back to the fairgrounds.

So much for my golf experience.      Dal

Found out that Langer won the tournament.  He got $250,000 out of a $1.6 million pot.  He was paid just about $1000 per stroke.  Wow.  Not a bad days work.

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