The Wacky Side of Golf |
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19TH HOLE COMEDY • Today, the blog • Tomorrow, the book |
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Gotta Love the Aussies This entry was posted on 4/20/2008 5:24 PM and is filed under uncategorized. The Australian Golf Club in Sydney, Australia was founded in 1882 and is Australia’s oldest golf club. In the 1970s, the golf course, home to 15 Australian Opens, was redesigned by Jack Nicklaus and Kerry Packer. Packer was Australia’s richest man and a member of the club.
The club’s membership included a group of 24 called the “Lavenders” (named after the Lavender Hill Mob). All were influential men who liked to play for high-stakes (betting everyone else in the group on the front nine, back nine and, then, the total eighteen holes). It was heart-stopping to see them settle after the game -- passing enormous amounts of money across the table. George Butterworth, king of the garment trade in Australia, was one of the 24. On this particular Friday, he had taken delivery of a new state-of-the-art Mercedes Benz which he proudly parked near the member’s door in the carpark. During the game, Butterworth’s foursome heard sirens in the distance but ignored them -- not bothering to look up to see which way the fire trucks might be headed. At last, one saw smoke mushrooming in the air over the majestic clubhouse, perched on a hill overlooking the golf course. A raging fire was destroying the original clubhouse. Butterworth hurried off the course and fought his way past the firemen. He emerged from the thick smoke that billowed from the building in time to move his new car to the opposite end of the carpark, out of harm’s way. Then he returned to the 14th to resume the bet and putt out. * * * Ross Phillips was a director of the Australian Golf Club and a long-standing member. It was customary on Saturdays, after prize presentations for the day’s events had taken place, to have dinner in the dining room and, then, retire to the snooker room to further enjoy the company of your fellow competitors. It was also a chance to recoup money you may have lost on the golf course. Some such evenings lasted until the early morning hours. The staff (long gone by then) would leave an “honesty box” in which members placed cash or vouchers against their accounts. Driving under the influence had not been heard of in those days, so Ross would thread his way home as best he could. He had to negotiate a five-way roundabout, taking an exit which was recognizable only by a sedan always parked on the left side of the exit road. Quite often, Ross was so intent on making his way around the intersection that he would come upon the sedan before he realized it and, as a result, he’d sideswipe it as he went by. He finally figured out that the car belonged to the owner of the terrace house behind it. So Ross bought the property to give himself a clear run home. * * * |
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