by Bobby Knight, the soft-spoken ex-coach and leader of men
The Parting Shot.
9/18/07 - JP was yearning for his finest group portrait ever but, alas, was thwarted by, from left to right, Cox Classicists Charley Messenger, WO, RJ, & MJ, who were having none of it. After this photo, the above-displayed subjects scattered to the four winds, officially ending what was yet another phenomenal golf gathering in Newton, NJ, and environs. Hosts Mike and Donna handled the annual invasion of family and friends with their usual grace and aplomb, so much so that the date of next year's event has already been inscribed on all of our calendars.
WJM, 47-years-old, with an unidentified playing partner, circa 1962 (note steering device on vintage golf cart)
One lefty remembers another
I remember playing golf with dad up north, probably at golf course onBoyne.
I vividly remember a par 4 hole straight downhill. I know it was at a ski resort -- I am guessing Boyne. Anyway, Dad hit a shot all the way down the hill and almost onto the green. Bill and I were playing along with Uncle Dick and Steve Moore. Anyway Bill hit his shot off to the left in the rough. (My shot probably landed in the hole but I can't remember). As we approached our balls, the groundskeeper ran over Bill's golf ball and cut it all up. Man was Bill pissed: "You #$$hole, What the @#$@% are you doing?" We were laughing like crazy.
A friend of Pat Temple, Eddie Winn, held a memorial golf outing for his father, Burl, who had passed away. It was a father-son tournament. Pat Temple invited his father-in-law, Norm Fletcher, and I played with Dad. We participated in that event maybe 3 years or so. Dad was a stickler for the rules and was generous with mulligans for us but not for him. "Hit another Richard" was a command more than a suggestion.
He always had those airport miniatures in his golf bag and would pull them out at just the right time and offer the foursome a whiskey. He also had a cooler that could hold a sixpack, vertically, so as to not take up toomuch room. It also snapped or fastened to his golf bag. It was a red scotch plaid and quite unique for the time.
He was a generous tipper as some reported who had caddied for him. Carbary caddied for him often. I never had the pleasure. His handicap was around 15 so he likely shot in the mid 80s most of the time.
The most memorable story was the day he won the "C Flight" tournament at the Dearborn Country Cub and along with it a brand new set of golf clubs. He bought a raffle ticket and during the course of the day's celebrating and card playing was the winner of another set of clubs. He gave me his old ones and traded both sets of clubs in for the top of the line clubs of his day; of course, he had to bicker with Faust Bianco, the cantankerous DCC pro, to get the ones he wanted!
He was very even tempered throughout the rounds and the only time he would get angry was when people would play too slow or breech the etiquette of the game...imagine that! He probably would jiggle his tees and ball markers in his pocket.
He, as you all remember, loved to watch the televised tournaments, in the den, on the black and white, with a martini, along with Uncle Judd as he grilled dinner.
He absolutely hated the young upstart Jack Nicklaus, and loved Arnie.
He later forgave Jack and respected his accomplishments and his person.
Hope this paints a picture of Dad on the golf course for you. I wish I had played more golf as a youth but especially with him.... RJM 10/06
Mick-Mouse Marion, Chairman, Cox Classic, takes a break from a very challenging round of caddying. Boyne Highlands, summer, 1965.
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It was this very occasion that RJ describes above in the first part of his reminiscence.
Gentlemen: Start your drivers!
circa 1955
It's time to grab your golf bag, your little lady, and of course, your fags, and start hacking away. Now get out there, you knuckleheads....
