By ED TRAVIS
Basketball legends Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley are known for betting on the golf course though they might be wagering sums somewhat higher than regular golfers.
However, we’re all familiar with the pressure trying to make a putt for a five-dollar Nassau and the same pressure is evident, perhaps a different order of magnitude, in the faces of professionals with a chance to win on the last few holes.
Different golfers react differently, and some are obvious and some not so obvious. At a club I used to belong to there was a guy whenever he was over a money putt his knees actually shook and he would invariably miss…but then again, he wasn’t that good a putter in the first place.
Lee Trevino, who knew thing or two about wagering on the course famously said, “You don’t know what pressure is until you play for five bucks with only two bucks in your pocket.”
I’ve always wondered if what the Merry Mex was saying is it’s smart to play for only what you can afford to lose or was it not to bet at all.
Years ago, a fellow I’ve played a lot of golf with told me he had been invited to play at a very, very exclusive country club, one of those that doesn’t reveal the names on their membership list. After lunch my friend, whose name is Mike, went to first tee where his host had organized a game with two other members and following the usual introductions and jocular banter one of them suggested they play for dimes.
Mike may not be the most sophisticated guy in the world, but he figured out “dimes” wasn’t a ten-cent bet. Ten dollars maybe?
Nope. As the foursome went down the first fairway, his host when asked said, “Oh, that’s just our usual bet. A thousand per hole and you can press at any time you’re down.”
He continued, probably after seeing the stricken look on Mike’s face, or even some sixth sense he added, “I imagine you might not be comfortable with that kind of money but since I invited you, I’ll cover any losses.” Mike mumbled something or other and the host added, “These guys haven’t won a bet since I’ve been a member here and they won’t win today so don’t worry.”
Mike was embarrassed he didn’t play well that day but it was adequate. He and his host won five thousand each plus a promise of a rematch. Needless to say, Mike refused his share and vowed to never to play “dimes” again.
One of my closest friends used to be a member at Sedgefield Country Club in Greensboro, N.C. where the Wyndham Championship is played. One time the pro shop matched us with two young salesmen and on the first tee, we negotiated a “friendly” $20 Nassau. At the time my friend and I were in our fifties, and I could see these youngsters thought we would be pigeons ripe for plucking.
That thought didn’t last long though as I holed out my shot from the first fairway for an eagle and in case you’re interested, it was a nine-iron.
By the end of the front nine, we were up by four and they pressed the second nine, doubling the bet to $40 but we also won that going away. They paid up but as my friend and I were driving home he opined maybe our opponents should think about finding another pigeon-plucking activity…as well as fixing their putting.
For at least ten years good old Charley and I were best ball partners traveling around to play in scratch tournaments. In college he had been a second or third string All-American halfback and even 20 years later retained his athleticism. He could hit the ball a mile, but we often had let it land to see which course we were playing that day.
Just kidding but he was a wild sometimes which made a good complement for my conservative style of play.
During a practice round for a particular event and were sent out with a twosome we had never met but they seemed like nice guys, and we settled on a $10 Nassau with two-down presses. Nothing exotic, just a small wager to keep our attention.
Our two competitors started out well but on the third- or fourth-hole Charley hit one of his smashes into the next fairway and then a wedge to six feet for a birdie. By the turn, our opponents were very unhappy but being three down they pressed us on the back and when the last putt dropped, they owed us $40 each.
After the usual handshakes and “nice playing” they said they would meet us inside for a beer and to settle up. Ok, but that was the last we saw of them. Not only did they welch on the bet but didn’t come back the next day for the tournament.
For the next two years Charley and I checked the roster of every tournament we played but never found them. I wonder how they make out at home with that degree of honesty.
