The Second McNabb Cup
Three things are thrown away on a golf fairway, namely, time, money and oaths.
Paraphrased from Walter Scott
Mankind is composed of inconsistencies. Nowhere is this more evident than on a golfing green where no man acts invariably up to his predominant character. The wisest man sometimes putts weakly, and the weakest sometimes wisely.
Inspired by Lord Chesterfield
Sept. 15, 2012 – White Lake, Michigan
The second playing of the McNabb Cup was marked by azure skies under which the beckoning grounds of the White Lake Golf Club were bathed in a mellow September light. The air was just warm enough, the breeze just strong enough to cause a gentle stirring among the great old trees that line the fairways. Golf, it seemed, was destined for such a day. And for one man, a destiny of greatness awaited.
Twelve competitors gathered near the eastern shores of Lake Michigan at a course laid out by Tom Bendelow in 1916. Here, at the “Burial Place of Old Man Gloom”, these dozen would compete over 18 holes for the right to have his name immortalized upon the Cup.
On the practice green, Scott “The Wee Man” Staudacher of Rockford arrived early to instill confidence in a hesitant putting stroke. “Sly” Jim Collins and “Crafty” Jack Maynard, both from Grand Rapids, were there too, testing the feel of the grass, sniffing the breeze and calculating what scores must be made to win.
About 10:30 a.m. the parking lot began to fill up with arriving competitors. Last year’s champion, Roger “Hickory” Hill of Grand Rapids held court in the staging area between the old clubhouse and the first tee. David Ramos, aka The Marshall Kid, was in attendance as were “Sunny” Bob Bieszka of Ann Arbor, and Bob “Shazzbot” Zizza, of Whitmore Lake. They hung on the wily old veteran’s stories about the early days of modern hickory tournaments, the long drives, the short putts, the money, the women…well, mostly the drives and putts. Todd “The Doctor” Riker from Muskegon was there, too. A quiet man, polite and easy going, The Doctor is known as a keen golfer with a steady hand whose pinpoint shot making can easily intimidate the opponent of lesser qualities.
Late in arriving were Bob Caston, known as the “Sweet Swinging Attorney” from South Bend, Ind., Tim “Maumee Mauler” Stroshine from Ohio, and John “Gunslinger” Slaby from Wyoming, Mich. All were nervously practicing their swings, grooming their equipment, intent upon replacing Hill as the McNabb Cup champion.
Occasionally seen was event host Jim “Oh Well” Davis who seemed overtaken by simplicities. His normally disconnected state of mind was the more fractured by organizational duties and it was this, he later told to anyone who would listen (no one would), that caused his lack of focus on the course.
Curiously, the members of the White Lake Golf Club seem reticent to join this august group of genteel golfers for a hickory golf outing. Any members who do enter the competition play for one year’s bragging rights as the “White Lake Hickory Champion.” While none stood forth in 2011, one man came out to uphold the honor of the WLGC in 2012, one stalwart golfer in the form of Don Lundquist, a mild-mannered retiree who lives in the area and came dressed in dapper plus-fours, tweed cap and tie. Lundquist, a good natured fellow with a ready smile, was quickly outfitted with his first hickory clubs and paired with Hill and Slaby who, it was hoped, would teach him the ways of Lord Hickory. Lundquist later reported that both his mentors were as souls of helpfulness, though unforgiving when it came to putts.
Our host pro, Bill Borgman, kindly arranged gifts for the players who each chose from a selection of glassware or golf towel, each imbued with the WLGC logo. He and his staff had the course in perfect condition and we are indebted to them for their kindness and to the members for their hospitality.
As we prepared ourselves for battle, several WLGC members of the fair sex arrived for tee times on the back nine. One look at Stroshine and Sweet Swinging Caston and they were smitten. Indeed, a patio populated with hickory players in their finest costume is not often seen at White Lake, hasn’t been seen since the early 1930’s. The ladies begged for photos of Caston and Stroshine who smilingly indulged their requests, though several others managed to steal into the photos as well.
The Match
The Marshall Kid and the Wee Man teed off as a twosome, setting a torrid pace. Ramos began with an unsteady 8, but quickly righted the ship to manage a first nine 48 to Staudacher’s 43. Though he had a few stumbles on the front, Staudacher notched a clutch birdie on the 390-yard 5th to build a lead that he would not relinquish. Ramos got three back on the “Schmidt Hole”, the testy par 4 12th over a reed-filled pond. Though he would nip Staudacher by one on the back nine, the Wee Man finished with 84 to Ramos’ 88. Both finished with a net 72. Ramos, his game face weary from the battle said, “Scott was a pleasure to play with and I’m looking forward to next year’s Cup.”
Hickory Hill, Gunslinger Slaby and Gentleman Don followed the torrid twosome with a fine match of their own. Gentleman Don opened with a messy 63, his first try with hickories, but showed his merit on the back to finish with a plucky 40. Though Hill opened with a rare snowman on the first hole, he and Slaby slugged it out blow by blow for the remainder of the contest, neither man giving in, though often, it seemed, giving out, especially on the Schmidt Hole, where Hill logged another flagrant 8. He finished with an uncharacteristic 95 to Slaby’s 93.
The foursome of Davis, Zizza, Stroshine and Bieszka slogged along in the fashion customary of high handicappers. Davis, who had high hopes at the outset, opened with an untidy 9 and managed to bookend the front with a demoralizing and equally untidy 9. “I can feel the Cup slipping away,” he said. Zizza’s cries of “Shazzbot”, and worse, occasionally punctuated the air, causing birds to miscalculate their tree landings and crash into branches. Bieskza’s golf ball would also occasionally crash into branches, trimming the verge on several holes. The Schmidt Hole, by now infamous and growing in demonic stature, stole a severe 11 from Sunny Bob, wilting his resolve momentarily. Stroshine mauled several holes on the front with pars and bogies causing the cognoscenti in the media tent to cast him in the role of “the man to beat” for the Cup. Under severe pressure, he wilted on the back nine. “Well, this is the Tim we all know and love,” he sighed. This group all finished above 100, the exact amount does bear repeating.
With the above three groups in the clubhouse, it was determined that the Maumee Mauler’s stated 32 handicap placed him in the lead with a net 71. Stroshine, clearly unaccustomed to such a status, became unsteady on his feet and was quickly helped to a nearby seat where he sat in stunned silence for several minutes. The Wee Man and the Marshall Kid had tied for what appeared to be second place. It was then someone said, “The Doctor is not in.”
Indeed, Todd Riker was still on the course, finishing his round with Sly Collins, Crafty Maynard and Caston, the Sweet Swinging Attorney. We mounted the slope on the back of the 18th green to watch the finish.
While Caston finished with a unsatisfactory 93 (the Schmidt Hole had claimed him), Collins slipped out of the lead with a score that shall not be shared (he threatened this writer to secrecy). Maynard, however, was quietly posting a crafty round that might have seen the Cup in his hands had it not been for messy back-to-back 7s on the par 5 14th and par 3 15th. He finished with a net 74.
So, it came down to the Doctor. By the time he reached the 16th hole, though he pretended not to notice the leader board, Riker needed only a par-bogie finish to claim the Cup. His tee shot on 17 ended up fairly near the commanding front-facing bunker on the short 227-yard par 4. A short pitch placed him within 14 feet. Two putts later he carded the first par. A double-bogie at 18 would mean the first playoff in the history of the McNabb Cup. On the final tee, the Doctor took cool aim and blasted a fine drive up the right side. His second, a blistering 2-iron soared 185 yards to finish on the front of the severely sloping back-to-front green. With the cup placed in the back left quadrant, Riker calmly stroked his approach to within 21/2 feet and drained the putt for a blistering 36 on the back nine and the win by two strokes. It was a cool 80 for a net 69.
Stroshine was gracious in defeat, accepting his second-place medal with smiles and the congratulations of his peers. Though they tied for third, Staudacher in an act of sportsmanship worthy of Aunt Izz herself (she for whom the McNabb Cup is named), stepped back in favor of his good friend and playing competitor David Ramos, who responded “I’m glad to be a part of this rogue group of golfers.”
Following the longstanding McNabb Cup tradition, last year’s winner Roger Hill presented the Cup to a beaming Riker. Following the cheers and applause of his fans an well as his thoroughly chastened competitors, Riker posed for the media.
The newly crowned McNabb Cup winner was gracious in his victory speech.
“As for the round,” he said, “I really enjoyed the guys in my pairing. We all struggled with the niblicks and the flat sticks on the front. I think it was the slope around the pins that created most of the havoc. By the end of the front side I had all but written off posting an impressive round. On the back, the pin placements were more generous. Our pace of play picked up and my putter caught fire. I doubled the 10th and ended up playing the last eight in one under. Somehow I ended up posting a respectable score. That seems to be the way the hickories go for me. It is either all on or all off. When I’m all on I can compete with my friends playing their modern clubs. When it’s all off, it looks like I have no idea what I am doing. What a humbling game this can be.”
And who in the modern annals of hickory golf can gainsay this assessment?
The Aftermath
Following the greenside ceremonies, all competitors repaired to the McNabb Cottage on a bluff overlooking the mighty Lake Michigan, which, on this gorgeous afternoon was sparkling like diamonds. There was food, wine, more wine and yet more of the wine. Caston became gregarious beyond his normally outgoing nature. Someone put on the Notre Dame–Michigan State game. Caston and Staudacher, ND men, rooted hard for the Irish while Hill and Ramos, MSU alums, gamely took up Sparty’s cause. A losing cause, as it later turned out, though, generously, it was not brought up. Many of us sat on the expansive porch enjoying the scenery; others took up stations inside, swapping jokes and stories. As such things are wont to do, it went late.
On the following morning, nine McNabb competitors straggled from their beds, enjoyed a breakfast quiche prepared by that incomparable cook, Christine Hill, and met for a reprise of the White Lake course, enjoying a round blissfully devoid of competitive fire. We were treated to another day of fine weather and lower scores. About the worst that happened was a drive on a 283-yard hole that Sunny Bob managed to place 10 yards behind the tee. “I had to use a mashie just to get back out to the fairway,” he said.
The McNabb Cup will be played again during the second week (or so) of September 2013.
Thanks to all who came to golf and to our golf course hosts. It was one of the year’s happiest gatherings of friends and good times.
Of course. It was at the “Burial Place of Old Man Gloom.”
Editor’s Note – The Schmidt Hole is named for one Jimmy Schmidt, a near-scratch golfer and a past president of the White Lake Golf Club. It was during this tenure that President Schmidt caused a small pot bunker to be placed on the lower front portion of the 12th green where all the water drains toward the duck pond. There are mere inches between green and bunker, and between bunker and pond. The bunker is universally reviled, but never fails to gain a chuckle from Mr. Schmidt whenever he plays the hole.