Thoughts today turn to golf, a game I’ve missed playing since that night in 1988 when I fell down a flight of outdoor stairs on Essex Street.
Since that fateful March night, I haven’t touched a club. I did, however, get in a couple of rounds of miniature golf. Leaning on a walker, I could negotiate most holes. Recent news out of the Bangor Municipal Golf Course that club pro Brian Enman and the City of Bangor had purchased the recently publicized handicapped accessible motorized golf cart got the proverbial juices flowing, and at this writing, I’m making plans to give the new device a try.
I first swung a club in my backyard on Washington Street in Brewer. Back in those days, it was a matter of chipping and putting into coffee cans that my cousin Ray and I had arranged in nine different places around our spacious Brown Stadium.
Since I was the head groundskeeper for the place, I knew exactly where the holes should be. They were, of course, marked carefully with long sticks and old pieces of cloth.
Once our confidence level rose, we each took our old clubs, handed down from our fathers, and made our way to Pine Hill Golf Club in Brewer.
The early 1960’s found us walking the course and having the time of our lives.
But it was the Bangor Muni on outer Webster Avenue in the Queen City where I really cut my teeth on the game. How I loved those days.
For a while after the fall I would tag along, drive a cart, and soak in the ambiance of the game. It was never quite the same, however, and although the sights and the sounds were there, the competitive edge was missing. As a longtime athlete and coach, I missed the eagle putts on the back nine. I missed the clubhouse reverie. I missed the locker room.
My wife Shelly is an outstanding golfer, and although I’ve accompanied her on several excursions, too, something was missing.
My early teaching days at Penquis Valley High School in Milo found me frequenting Jud Gerrish’s scenic Katahdin Country Club there and enjoying the time I spent with my good friends, the late Gip Harris and my assistant coach, Galen Larson.
Once I bought a house in Bangor, however, it was time to return to the Muni. I have many fond memories of my days traversing the beautiful course with guys like Bruce Anderson, Dave Willette, and Bob Kelley. Once Coach Kelley’s baseball season at Bangor High was over, the four of us met every weekday through the summer months at 1 p.m. Bruce and Dave were scratch golfers, and Coach and I were about the same caliber players. Our 16 or so handicap paired us with one of the big boys. We always had great fun.
Bruce was so long off the tee that he couldn’t control his driver. He adjusted and used his three wood. Dave teamed with the late Jim Veno to put high school championship teams together at Orono High School. Coach and I were in pretty good company.
Kelley and I made every effort to be respectable, and most days we were. Coach had excellent irons, while I could chip and putt, evidence that my early years on Washington Street served me well.
Yes, I’m off to the Muni to see how this golf cart works. Hopefully, I can rejoin my old cronies. I know they’ve missed taking my money, haven’t you, fellas?
30-Second Time Out
From Golf Digest book review editor Cliff Schrock comes this tidbit from his “Who said that?” column: ‘The reason the club pro tells you to keep your head down is so you won’t see him laughing.’ Answer?
Humorist Phyllis Diller.
(Taken from Schrock’s review of The Gigantic Book of Golf Quotations.)
Keep your heads down, my friends, and enjoy the weather.
BDN columnist Ron Brown, a retired high school basketball coach, can be reached at bdnsports@bangordailynews.net
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