Category: Columnists

Chip to Shore
by Chip Ahoy
 
Every four years we pretend to care about the America's Cup Yacht Race.  Why, is it the name?  Somehow we feel compelled to watch rich guys play with their toys.  It can't be much of a sporting event when you consider a guy like Ted Turner could win on Courageous in 77.  Remember, this is the same sap who married Jane Fonda and then got fired as the Braves manager after only one game. He owned the club.
 
There had to be something more to yachting than what meets the eye.  To investigate this phenomenon, I went undercover and in costume to a local yacht club to find the truth. My attire was typical, a navy blue blazer adorned with a golden emblem.  I wore a captain's hat, white slacks, dockers and of course, an ascot.  To pull off my ruse, however, I had to learn their strange nautical language.  Failure to do so would blow my cover and forever label me a landlubber.
 
Study complete, "her stern pointed heavenly skyward uplifting her aft into a shapely wake",  I set out to unlock the secrets of the sea.  At the MHPYC I stowed away on a corner bar stool, sipped Salty Dogs, and listened to the tars as they come ashore each evening.  It was a very eye opening experience.  I learned, for example, that a portsider actually means something other than an aging, soft tossing lefty from the bullpen.  As I became more accepted by the membership, I began to ask the hard hitting questions of a seasoned journalist.  Does Lipton Tea still have a photo of the yacht that lost eight times on its box?  What ever happened to Dennis Conner, the first American to lose?  Did he get the Jimmy Hoffa treatment?
 
Through my research, I discovered the truth to yachting and its appeal.  When analyzed, it really isn't that much different than golf (I know you were all wondering how I was going to get this back to golf).  It appears yachtsmen, sailors and boat enthusiasts have the same goals.  It isn't their love for the ocean, scent of the sea air or the cool lingo, it is much simpler than that.  "Hey skipper, my wife hates it!  She never wants to go out there with me.  I have four or five hours of carte blanche, plus the bar here is very yawl," said an unnamed source.
 
So there you have it.  By the way, I am the new port captain, boat drinks on the starboard rail.  
 

Consider the following scenario: A player goes through the entire round without an incident, signs their scorecard, turns the card in and enjoys a lunch or a brewskie at the bar.  They then get a tap on the shoulder and it's someone from the scoring table informing them that they have been penalized or DQ'd from the tournament due to their scorecard being incorrect.

Far too many times we see scorecards turned in with mistakes after the player has left the scoring table and we are forced into assessing penalties or disqualifications due to something not being correct on the card.

Examples:

• Razzle Dazzle 2014 – Player and his teammate signed their scorecard with all the hole-by-hole scores but did not record their drives and second shots.  They did not read the rules; thus, did not know that they had to record first and second shots even though they physically performed the shots on the course.  Result: they were assessed a two stroke penalty which took them out of the money.  They were not DQ'd because their hole-by-hole scores were recorded.
   
• NCGA Net Amateur 2013 – Player had a birdie written in for the first hole and it was later discovered (through casual conversation) that their actual score was a par.  The player did not realize this when they signed their card.  Result: the player was DQ'd for signing an incorrect scorecard.
   
• NCGA Net Amateur 2013 – Player had their front nine score (44) written in the 9th hole box.  Their 9th hole score was not written anywhere on the scorecard.  The player did not realize this when they signed their card.  Result: the player was DQ'd for signing an incorrect scorecard.  
   
  Note: we consulted with the NCGA and based on USGA Rule 6-6, they would have given the player a 44 on the ninth hole because that was what was recorded as the ninth hole score.

These players could have corrected their errors before leaving the scoring table WITHOUT penalty.  Once they left the scoring table then it's game over.

So this does lead to an important lesson for all of us.

The player – not the scorer – is responsible for the accuracy of their scorecard.  The player should verify that the hole-by-hole scores are correct.  Neither the scorer or the player is responsbile for the correct total scores but the player is ultimately responsible for the correct hole-by-hole scores.  The player should also read the rules for all tournaments – especially the specialty tournaments – to be sure that there are no special requirements that may ultimately result in a penalty or disqualification.

So how often have you – either as the player or scorer – verified only the total front/back/overall scores and not the hole-by-hole scores or other special requirements?  We all have done just that.

Verify Before You Certify!!

Tis the Season
by A Chip in Time
 
It wasn't until after a lackluster round at a nondescript Central Valley course that things got interesting.  Bill Feeley suggested we all go to lunch at a place he used to go to when he was in the army.  "It's just a few minutes and you guys won't believe it",  he said.  
 
An hour and three dirt roads later we arrived at a place that might have been in a John Wayne movie.  It had a sagging balcony, wood slate sidewalks and swinging doors.  From the back or the bus, Art Klein yelled, "how long were you in the calvary, Bill"?
 
The food's good but wait til you see the floor show, he said. The head shakes were almost audible as we filed off the bus into either a rustically quaint or a recently condemned saloon.  When we entered, a silence fell over the room.  It was not because we were outsiders with FootJoys, but because the room was empty.  "Are you kidding me, asked Keith Gonsalves, even the bar has dust on it."
 
Just wait, answered Bill, you'll see.  As if on queue, waiters and bartenders came out of the woodwork.  Somewhere a band began to warm up.  This dump came to life.  Food was served and beer was poured and morale improved.
 
On stage, a tattered curtain pulled apart revealing an elderly lady in a peasant skirt and castanets.  Feeley was again rained on with insults.  "If a horse comes on stage, we are leaving you here, Bill", said Dave McNeily.  "If she's a stripper, I'm going to puke", said Sid.
 
The music started and her hips began to move to a carnivale rhythm.  Her castanets tapped out a frantic Latin beat.  The faster they played, the faster she moved.  She was transformed in the music, lost in a personal fountain of youth.
 
When she was finished, the group was slack jawed and amazed. What just happened, we all wanted to know.  "We were just reminded to complain less and enjoy the game more", said Pete Katsumis.

Welcome to Golf Season!

The great unwashed public is probably unaware that April is national poetry month. As cultural liaison officer, I feel it is my duty to keep the membership informed and classy.

The Green Peel
by Chips All In
 
I sat hunched over, sipping tequila with lime,
pondering where my golf game went this time.
A man of my ability just couldn't shoot such a high score,
where was the justice, for god's sake, an eighty four.
 
The sharks began to circle with a zest and zeal,
they swam around me awaiting the green peel.
Half heartedly I paid them one and all,
the hacks, the baggers, the short and the tall.
 
I stared in my glass wondering, could it be,
I, no better than them, no, not me.
When did this happen, why wasn't I there,
where was my pro, and why doesn't he care?
 
My game deserted me, why wasn't I at my best,
my putter went south and my short game is a mess.
My swing hitches and stutters with a glitch and a flaw,
sometimes I hit a fade, no wait it's a draw.
 
I could pull my hair out or see a shrink,
I could practice and bring my game to the brink.
Why did this happen, a reason I can not think,
luckily there's always tomorrow, so I will order another drink.