Josh either didn’t hear him, or pretended not to hear him. Bruce hadn’t managed to talk with his son after their bidding war over the Ernie Els golf bag the night before. He had tried to call him, but it went straight to voice-mail. Marilyn hadn’t said two words to him the rest of the night.
Bruce tried to turn his focus to his own match, but it didn’t work. He found himself looking ahead wondering how his son’s match was going rather than concentrating on his own. By the time they reached the sixth tee, they were already down by four to Stryker and his partner. George Wilson, Bruce’s partner, was playing quite well. Bruce was the problem. He’d made five straight bogies and hadn’t contributed anything to the team effort. To make matters worse, Stryker had birdied the second, third and fifth holes.
* * *
Up ahead in the first match, Cheech and Ray were having their own problems. Cheech’s head wasn’t in the game either. He was thinking about Maggie and their encounter the night before. He felt like they’d “shared a moment”, but he wasn’t entirely sure. His judgement, or more correctly, his lack thereof, had gotten him into all kinds of trouble over the last year. But he couldn’t get her off his mind.
Cheech saw Max sitting in a golf cart up by the seventh green. As captain, Max had been there at the first tee to watch all the groups tee off. He was now making the rounds to get updates from the team.
“How’s your match going?” Max asked.
“We’re two down,” Cheech replied. “Bruce’s kid is killing us. He made a twenty-footer on the first hole for a birdie and just rolled in a thirty-footer for another on six. Ray is playing well, but I haven’t contributed anything so far.”
“Keep plugging away,” Max said. “Getting the first point of the day is important, so let’s see if you guys can turn this thing around.”
“How are the other matches going?”
“Too early to tell,” Max said. “Most have only played a few holes.”
* * *
Max drove his golf cart over to the fourth hole to check on that match. He had lied to Cheech. This was becoming his worst nightmare. They were losing all three of the men’s matches and one of the ladies matches. Another was all square. The only match they were ahead in was the last match of the day and they’d only played one hole so far.
Maybe Darren was right. Maybe they were too old to compete against the team from Blackhawk Ridge. This was shaping up to be another lopsided win for them.
Max knew his primary role as captain was to get the best out of his team. That’s why he hadn’t told Cheech how bad things were going. Every player had to believe they could win their match and that they were key to pulling out a victory. Sometimes, this meant he had to be a cheerleader. Other times, he had to be a calm advisor on strategy. And sometimes it meant he had to give someone a kick in the butt and tell them they simply had to do better. He wished he knew what to do.
At the end of the first day, Riverview was down four points to two. That was actually much better than it had looked all day. They lost all three of the men’s matches so were down three-nil at one point. But the ladies had saved them from complete embarrassment by winning two out of their three matches, one of them by sinking a long putt on the eighteenth hole.
* * *
That evening, both teams met in the clubhouse to determine the matches for the next day. There was no ceremony this time like there had been on Friday night. This time, the captains sat down with their teams and Max and Darren slid pieces of paper across the table to each other as the draw was made.
The second day of competition consisted of a man and a woman on each team in an alternate-shot format. That meant that team members must trust each other and work well together, because your shot directly affected your partner’s next shot. You might hit your shot onto the green giving your partner a good shot at birdie, or bury your shot in the bunker leaving an almost impossible up-and-down. This was the ultimate test of being a team player and many golfers struggled with this format.
Max met privately with his team before the draw. “Okay, I think we’re going to have change things up a bit if we’re going to turn things around in the competition. Stryker killed us today, winning his match seven-up with six to play. We need someone who’s not afraid to go up against him.”
“I’m willing to take him on,” Cheech said.
“Who do you want as your partner?” Max asked.
“Doesn’t matter. All of the ladies played well today.”
“Thanks,” Max said. “That makes it easier. I’m pretty sure Darren’s going to send out Stryker in the last group tomorrow, so I’ll hold you back to go out against him.”
Max looked at Bruce. “The other player that destroyed us today was Josh. Bruce, you said you wanted to go up against him. You still want to do that?”
“Absolutely,” Bruce said.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea for one family member to play another,” Marilyn said.
“Yeah, I know,” Max said. “That’s why I didn’t put them up against each other in the first round, but we need the point and Bruce thinks he can beat him.”
Marilyn pursed her lips. “Well then don’t pair me up with Bruce, because there’s no way I’m competing against my own son.”
He had no intention of making Bruce and Marilyn partners. Some couples play well together in competition and others don’t. He knew there was already plenty of tension between them.
Max headed into the meeting room where Darren, the captain of the Blackhawk Ridge team, was waiting. Darren slid the piece of paper with his first pairing over to Max.
“We’re sending the team of Josh Thompson and Robyn Baker out first,” Darren said.
Max was expecting this. “We’re going with Bruce Thompson and Ally Walker.”
This seemed to catch Darren by surprise. “Interesting. The father-son competition should lead to some lively discussion at the next family gathering.”
Max and Darren continued to exchange the names of their team members for the matches the next day.
“For my last pairing of the day, I’m going with the team of Cheech Martin and Anne-Marie Tremblay,” Max said.
Darren only had two names left. “Jeff Stryker and Maggie Martin.”
The colour drained from Max’s face. He had deliberately held Cheech’s name to the end because he wanted him to go up against Stryker. But he hadn’t even thought about who Stryker’s partner would be. He wondered how Cheech would feel going up against his ex.
* * *
For matches on day two of the competition, it had already been decided that they’d go with a back nine start, which meant that groups would start on the tenth hole rather than the first. Some players found the front nine easier, others preferred the back nine. Since most matches were decided early before playing the whole eighteen holes, this helped ensure that all players would have to play each hole on the course at least once during the competition.
“Good luck, son,” Bruce said as he put his hand out.
Josh shook his hand, but didn’t say anything. He had his game face on.
“Play well, Robyn,” Bruce said.
“You too, sir,” Robyn replied.
Ally, Bruce’s playing partner, also shook hands with Josh and Robyn.
Since today’s competition was an alternate shot format, it had been decided that all holes would be played from the white tees. This made the course play a little longer than most of the ladies were used to and a little shorter than normal for the men.
It also introduced the first strategic decision for each team, whether to have the male partner tee off on the even numbered holes and the female partner tee off on the odd numbered holes, or vice versa.
Josh hit first, deciding to try to cut the corner on the dogleg. He pounded his drive and almost drove the green, leaving Robyn an easy chip shot. He beamed as he picked up his tee.
Bruce waved for Ally to hit the tee shot for their team. He knew that Josh could easily out-dr
ive him by twenty yards and didn’t want to give him the psychological advantage of going head-to-head with him off the tee. Ally hit a good drive, but she left Bruce with a second shot of about a hundred and fifty yards. He hit a pretty good approach into the green, leaving a twenty-five foot putt.
“Nice drive, son,” Bruce said when they reached Josh’s ball. “You must have hit that over two seventy.”
Robyn was left with a very short pitch shot and hit it about three feet past the hole. It looked like they were going to take the early lead in the match.
Everyone was surprised when Ally rolled in her long putt for birdie. Suddenly, the three-footer facing Josh looked a lot more ominous. Now he had to make it just to tie the hole.
Bruce watched as Josh lined up his putt. He sincerely hoped he’d make it. It looked like Josh hit a good putt, but it lipped out and hung on the edge of the hole.
“Tough break, Josh,” Bruce said. “You were robbed.”
That one missed putt caused Josh to lose all confidence. He didn’t make a putt of any significant length for the rest of the day.
Bruce found it painful to watch. Someone once said that “golf is eighty percent mental, and the rest is all in your head.” Josh had become the poster boy for that saying.
Bruce and Ally won the match five-up with only four holes left to play.
* * *
In the last match of the day, Cheech and Anne-Marie were in a close match with Maggie and Stryker. Neither team had taken more than a one-up lead through the entire day.
Cheech thought it would feel strange playing against his ex, but there was surprisingly little tension between them. In fact, Cheech admired how Maggie was holding up. He knew she was a good golfer; there was never any doubt about that. He liked how she carried herself, particularly with Stryker.
It was becoming obvious that Stryker was a bit of a control freak, always wanting things done a certain way – his way. But Maggie was standing up to him. There were a few times during the match when Stryker tried to tell her how to hit a certain shot, like the time she was faced with hitting it out of a thick lie in the rough.
“Just wedge it back into the fairway,” Stryker said. “That’s the smart shot. I’ll hit the next one onto the green and we’ll see if we can salvage a par.”
“The lie is not that bad,” Maggie said. “I’m pretty sure I can get it on the green with my hybrid.”
Stryker took another look at the lie. “Don’t think so. Just hit the wedge.”
Cheech watched as Maggie took the head cover off her hybrid.
“I think this is a mistake,” Stryker warned.
Cheech wanted to jump in to defend her, wanted to tell Stryker to zip his pie-hole, but it wasn’t his place. He wasn’t her partner, not in this match, not in anything.
Maggie hit the hybrid and the ball flew out of the rough, landed just short of the green, but bounced up to within a few feet of the hole.
“We got lucky there,” Stryker said.
Maggie didn’t say a word, just quietly put the head cover back on and slid the club back into her bag.
Cheech smiled, looked over at Maggie, and discretely tipped his hat.
She smiled back.
Even though that shot caused them to lose the hole, Cheech didn’t seem to mind.
As they came up to the last hole, Cheech and Anne-Marie were one-down.
“We really need you to win this hole,” Max said to Cheech before he hit his tee shot. He stressed how important it was for them to win the last hole to salvage a tie in the match.
Since it had been a back-nine start, the final hole of the match was the ninth hole, a long par-five that finished in front of the clubhouse. With the other matches already completed, all of the other competitors were gathered behind the green to watch the last match of the day.
Cheech hit a perfect tee shot, easily clearing the bunker down the right side of the fairway. Stryker’s shot was almost a duplicate copy, but finished just a couple of yards behind.
Maggie hit her second shot up between the two fairway bunkers, in perfect position for an approach into the green. However, Anne-Marie was feeling the pressure of the moment. She blocked her shot to the right and it flew into a small grove of pine trees in the right rough.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Cheech said. “Maybe we’ll catch a break.”
They watched as Stryker hit his third shot onto the green, leaving a birdie putt of about ten feet. Cheech knew their chances of winning the last hole were practically nil.
As they walked toward the trees, Cheech was hoping their ball had hit one of the trees and bounced back into the rough. It wouldn’t be an easy shot, but it would at least give them a chance. They all searched the rough, but didn’t see it.
“I think I see one right in the middle of the trees,” Maggie said. She pointed to it.
“We’re screwed,” Cheech thought to himself. He pushed the branches aside as he maneuvered his way inside. He peered down at the ball.
“Yep, this is our ball,” he said.
He was surprised at how open it was in the middle of the grove of trees. Although there were thick branches on the outside of the grove, there were hardly any branches on the inside. He realized he might have enough room to make a swing.
Anne-Marie had already assumed they were going to have to declare the ball unplayable and take a penalty drop.
“Where do you think we should drop it?” she asked.
“We might not have to,” Cheech said. “I might have a shot. Hand me my eight-iron.”
Anne-Marie passed the club to him through the branches.
As Cheech surveyed his options, he realized he could see the pin through a gap in the branches. If he could make good contact with the ball and hit it through that gap, he might actually be able to get the ball on the green.
Stryker peered through the trees to assess the situation. “He’s got nothing,” he whispered to Maggie.
Maggie looked between the branches to do her own assessment. She could see the shot that Cheech was going to try to play. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said.
“Have an eye,” Cheech shouted. “This could go anywhere.”
He gripped his eight-iron and tried to visualize the ball flying through the gap in the branches. He took his stance, but then realized his right foot was on top of a pine cone. He kicked it away with his foot and then twisted his feet down into the pine needles to get a better stance.
When he did this, a dead branch that was lying underneath the pine needles twisted. It extended up close to where the ball was sitting. Cheech saw the ball move, only about an inch or so, but it definitely moved.
“Shit!” he said.
“What happened?” Anne-Marie asked. “Did you hit it? I didn’t see it come out.”
He moved the ball back to where it was initially and then took a swing, mostly out of anger at himself. The ball sailed through the gap in the branches and bounded up onto the green.
“Nice shot,” Anne-Marie shouted.
As Cheech pushed the branches aside and came out from the trees, he looked at Anne-Marie, Maggie and Stryker.
“We have to take a penalty shot,” Cheech announced.
“Why?” Anne-Marie asked. “You hit it up on the green.”
“The ball moved when I was taking my stance.”
Stryker knew the rule. “Are you sure you caused it to move?”
Cheech sighed. “Yeah, I’m sure. I moved the ball back to where it was and then hit it, so we have to take a one-shot penalty. We’re lying four up on the green.”
When Maggie and Stryker two-putted for a par five, Cheech removed his hat, held out his hand and conceded the match. Even if they made their putt, the best they could do was a five. Since Stryker and Maggie were one-up coming into the last hole, they’d won the match.
Max came over to congratulate the winners as well. “That was a hell of a match,” he said.
�
��Sorry I let you down,” Cheech said.
“You didn’t let me down at all,” Max said. “You showed a lot of integrity calling that penalty on yourself. Not a lot of people would have done that.”
“Yeah, but I got careless and let the team down.”
“You did nothing of the sort. We win as a team and lose as a team. And we’ve got one more day to go.”
Chapter 24: The S-Word
Later that evening, both teams gathered in the clubhouse to determine the pairings for the last day of the competition. The teams had split the matches that day in the alternate shot format, but Riverview still trailed seven points to five overall after the second day of competition. There were twelve points up for grabs in Monday’s singles matches.
The ladies matches were scheduled to go off first the next day, which suited Max just fine. The ladies from Riverview had managed to win more points than the men so far. He hoped the ladies would continue to play well and win four out of six of their matches to tie up the competition.
As expected, Darren was sending out Stryker in the anchor spot on the last day and Max had countered with Cheech. Although Cheech had lost earlier that day, Max was pleased with how Cheech had handled the pressure.
Max put Bruce up against his son again in the second last match of the day. Marilyn had once again voiced her opposition.
* * *
As Bruce and Marilyn left the clubhouse that evening, they saw Josh out on the putting green. There was barely enough light to see, but Josh continued to hit putt after putt. He was obviously upset about his play that day.
“You should go talk to him,” Marilyn said.
“Yeah, I know,” Bruce said, “but I don’t know what to say.”
They walked to their car in the parking lot.
“You wait here,” Bruce said when they got there. “I have an idea.”
He opened the trunk and pulled out the Ernie Els signature golf bag. He headed back over to the putting green. Josh seemed locked in on trying to fix his putting woes and didn’t notice him approach.
The Back Nine: A Novel About Life After Fifty Page 15
