That weekend, the girls and their folks accompanied me to the three-day tournament. Fred and Terry had worked with the team and we were ready. All of the team was playing some good golf. This was another stoke play event with the best overall school score taking the win plus there was individual trophies for best scores, longest drives, most fairways hit, most greens hit and fewest putts. All we had to do was perform.
Thursday night we walked the course twice. The first time we made notes for each hole then went back and made notations as to club size to use on each hole with the anticipated landing areas. All of us used different clubs depending on the way we used each club. We ended the evening driving several buckets of balls. Terry worked with me on my short irons making sure I felt the distance of each stroke. We even did some sand trap work and finally we putted a while.
Friday was exciting. There were six schools represented. This match was for superiority of our conference. So far we had risen from the bottom to about the middle of the pack. After a good early breakfast, I drove a couple of buckets, then chipped a bucket and ended up on the putting green. My tee off time was ten so I said my good-byes to my group that referred to themselves as my "peanut gallery" and headed to the first tee with Terry as my caddy. This was a special event and every student had a caddy. The caddies were mostly dads, some coaches and some other students.
The first hole was a short par four that would be easy to over drive trying to get on the green. My strategy was to use a three wood and try to hit long enough that the ball would run up on the green. If I didn't make the green that would be fine, as then I would have an easy chip to get close to the hole. The plan worked perfect. The ball ran up to about fifteen feet of the hole. The greens were only fairly fast but pretty bumpy. Our third player had driven over the green and chipped back to within about thirty feet of the hole. His next shot was to about six feet of the hole. Another player had gotten to the green but was farther away from me so I was able to watch his ball bounce all over the place then veer to right of the hole some teen feet away. My ball was now the farthest from the pin. I was on the exact same track so I walked up to the hole looking for the reason for the sharp turn. There was a loose wood chip lying in the path to the hole. I picked up the wood chip and tossed it to a judge then forked up around where the chip had been pushed down then tamped the area with the putter. The line didn't look bad, just washboard. I focused on the line of the putt almost seeing a dotted line from my ball to the cup. With a fairly strong swing I putted through the ball sending it on the dotted line straight to the cup. I recorded an eagle on the first hole. Terry congratulated me and I received some applause from the small gallery following us as well as the other players.
The second hole was a long straight par five with fairway bunkers heavy on the left side. My drive was straight as an arrow for about three hundred fifty yards. Both the other players stayed on the fairway and bested me in length by ten to fifteen yards. I was about a hundred eighty from the green so I used a three iron and landed short of the green but ran up on the lip. The other two players played the hole short to avoid some bunkers behind the hole. One managed to land in the trap on the right side of the green. The green was long and narrow like the rest of the hole with undulations from one end to the other. Terry said I could chip since I was in the taller grass on the edge of the green or I could putt really hard and try to get the distance down since I had three shots to make par. I wanted to chip so I used my sand wedge and lofted the ball high hoping that I had the right amount of distance. The ball landed on the far side of the hole spun on the ground hopping back toward the hole ending up on the lip of cup. Everyone watching was gasping loudly. The other players had me tap in for my birdie and then I watched as one guy made par and the other made bogeyed.
The third hole was a par three that we all pared then we went through the next six holes quickly. I pared all the following holes so was three under going to the tenth. My playing partners were both four over but seemed happy to be doing that well. I was disappointed in a couple of my putts and a couple of my short irons but happy to have been staying at par on those holes.
The tenth hole was an ugly long par five. It was very narrow to the apex of the dogleg. At that point there were sand traps on both sides of the fairway with a pond about twenty yards off the fairway beyond the apex. I watched the first guy drive his ball into the pond, overdriving the apex. He elected to drive again and put the ball in a trap on the left side. The next guy played short and let his ball run up toward the right sand trap but stayed in the fairway. Terry and I had discussed how to play the hole the day before. He told me to use my two-wood and drive to as close to the far side of the apex as I could which was right at three hundred yards. Terry felt I would overshoot using the driver.
My shot was almost too long. It ran all the up to the longer grass and stopped about a foot away. I could breath easier. My next shot was going to be straight at the green. The green that you couldn't see as there was a ridge between my ball and the green. You could just see the very tip of the flagpole when it was in place but it was not in place when I was looking toward the green. There was a judge on the side of the fairway with flags. Red meant to wait and green was to go ahead. He was waving the green but I couldn't see the tip of the pole. I walked up the ridge to see why I couldn't see it. The pole was lying off the green to one side. The judge said if I didn't hurry and shoot I would be penalized a stroke. When I pointed out that the pole was not in place and I was having difficulty lining up the shot, he yelled for someone to put the pole in place. I walked back to the hole with Terry telling me I had to be careful of the judges as they might get mad at me for talking to them and unjustly penalize me even if I were correct.
When I settled down over the ball with my seven iron I was confident of the shot. It was a little long for the seven iron but I wanted the loft as I thought the ball would dig in on the green giving me a shorter putt. The ball went high into the air but straight to where I had wanted. When the ball went behind the ridge the pole quivered and I heard several people yelling. Terry walked up to me and slapped me on the back saying "I'm going to have a proctologist check your ass for a horse shoe, you just shot a double eagle. You're still in college and I've never had one. Jesus that's awesome."
My playing partners were equally happy for me. It was truly a lucky shot. The judge, who had cautioned me smiled broadly and congratulated me, "I guess it was important to see that pole."
The seventeenth hole had my number. It was a long par four that I had a pond near the hole so it was easy to know to lie up in front of the pond. The stupid ball carried an extra fifteen yards and did a graceful hop right into the water. Terry said to take the stroke and the drop. My drop was perfect, in a clump of grass right behind a rock. Terry had me ask for relief but the judge just said "tough shit" and walked away. Terry said in a pro match a judge would have given me another drop and would have tossed the rock.
I chipped toward the green but the ball caught the stone and went straight up in the air coming down in the water. The judge watched me closely as I dropped the ball. I wasn't worried as the damn rock followed my ball into the pond. My next shot for a bogey was a little long. My double bogey putt was a little to the right and I finished with a triple bogey. Damn. I was now back to only three under.
The eighteenth was another vicious par five. I was determined and drove the ball straight to where I wanted. My second shot was right at the green but in a bunker next to it. My third shot out of the sand put my ball a foot from the pin and I finished the round with a birdie for four under.
I finished up my score card and walked to the score keepers tent. The judge looked at my final and frowned. He went back over each hole and checked each one with the following judge. He finally looked up and said, "congratulations Mr. Johnson that's the best of the day by far. Good game."
My peanut gallery was all over me. One of the guys who had been my playing partner came up to shake my hand. As he viewed the two girls he asked, "which one is yours and which one can I make a try for."
Trish and Delta grabbed an arm, held out their left hands and said together, "sorry, we're both his."
The tournament had a lot of pomp and circumstance going. The first evening was a big dinner with a bunch of certificates handed out for best drive, best hole, longest putt. I received one for best game and best hole for my double eagle. I also was included in the goof-off group with my ugly seventeenth hole.
Saturday I started at one o'clock with two new players. I birdied the first four holes then pared everything till the seventeenth. There I lined up and put the ball ten yards from the water. My chip was dead onto the cup about two feet away. An easy put and I had conquered the bad news hole from the day before. I pared eighteen to end up five under.
Again the scorer spent an eternity checking my scorecard. He twice checked with the judge observing our round then just nodded at me and waved me out.
That evening the announcer gave all his best of certificates then came over to our table next to me with the microphone. He had me stand. "This ladies and gentlemen is the young man who shot five under today. It's the same young man who shot four under yesterday and had a double eagle along with a triple bogy. He is now eleven strokes ahead of everyone here. We could just give him the cup and send him home or perhaps we should make him play this last round as every player here is dying to see him make some mistakes and come back down to their level."
Every one applauded me and laughed at his humor. I still didn't think I was playing my best game. Terry knew this but told me to just let it be and I would improve if I just kept trying.
Sunday was anti-climatic. The start was at one o'clock again. I shot two under and made mistake after mistake but the horseshoe up my butt kept me at par or better all game. On one drive I sliced the ball into a big oak tree. The ball bounced fifty feet back onto the fairway perfectly placed at the apex of the nasty dogleg. Another shot hit a rock in front of a pond and bounced all the way across the pond landing deep on the long green. The best part was that I birdied seventeen and eighteen to end the day on a high note.
So I finished thirteen stokes under, eleven in front of the closest player, one of ours helping us to win this major tournament. Fred and Terry accepted the big trophy with all of us standing behind them. My teammates kept trying to push me to the front. They knew something was coming. The announcer from the previous nights called me to the front. He handed me a large envelope and congratulated me for the low score.
"We hand out one of these every year to the senior who does the best. I knew you were a third year student but didn't know you were a senior till your coaches filled me in. This is your expense paid trip to the U.S. Open local and qualifying rounds along with all of your PGA applications prepared and with our recommendation of instant approval if you should decide to join the PGA. Congratulations Mr. Johnson, we'll be seeing you on the tour."
Now that is exciting. I was surprised and a little shocked. Fred knew it was coming but Terry didn't know about the tradition. George and Dan were bragging to everyone that I was going to be their son-in-law. Carol and Cecile were trying to hush them up as several people were trying to figure out how I was going to both of their son-in-law. The girls hugged and kissed me. Trish said, "I guess we know a little of our future."
Back at school reality once again smacks you. Actually my classes seemed too easy this semester. Sandy even agreed with me as she said she had read the textbooks for all her classes before the semester and had not opened them since. Our chemistry labs were fairly complicated but if you paid attention during lectures they were easy to complete. Many of them were what I called "firing for effect" as you made a concoction then reported what it did or how it tested using various chemicals.
The golf team was preparing to compete in the local U.S. Open qualifying round. All of us wanted to try to advance to the Sectional to try to become one of the one hundred fifty-six golfers to compete in the Open.
May was going to be busy. Finals, graduation and the Open qualifying rounds were happening all about the same time. My grades made it easy as Sandy and I were excused from all of our finals. Sandy had been accepted at the Harvard School of Medicine on a full scholarship and was mentally already on her way.
The local qualifying round would be held at our country club the second weekend in May so it would be easy for me to get there. It was only a single round so you had to be at your best. I think only four people would advance to the sectional tournament where over seven hundred would compete at four different locations. The nearest sectional would be in Atlanta the second weekend in June.
In my mind, if I won the local tournament then qualified in the sectional for the Open then I would mentally commit to golf as a way to succeed in life for a while. If I flunked out and was not able to play in the Open then I felt like I probably shouldn't be playing golf for a living.
The local tournament was held on a beautiful warm day with little wind and all the greens were in very nice condition. Everyone playing was in a good mood but anxious about the competition. Fred and Terry had the team in good form, ready to be winners.
The best score for the day was a sixty-nine. The worst score for the day was a ninety-eight scored by one of my nervous teammates. I came in second with a seventy. Two of my teammates came in with the third and forth best rounds sending all of us to the sectional. The guy who came in first was a tour professional that had a bad year the year before and had lost his tour card. This was my first step toward making golf my life.
The next weekend, relatives started checking in at hotels throughout the area. I didn't know there were so many interested in a farm boy graduating from college. It had something to do with me being the first person in both my Mom's and my Dad's family who ever went to college in a long time. My folks, including my bothers, sisters and my big sister, her husband and their baby arrived in multiple cars on Thursday. Delta and Trish kept my feet on the ground and helped me remember where to be when. This was hectic.
Sandy and I had speeches to make at graduation. Sandy was valedictorian and I was the salutatorian. We were informed that we were being graduated "cum laude." For a farm boy that was Greek to me (the reader is supposed to laugh here). They also had this fraternity-sounding thing that I had always avoided. Phi Kappa Beta was more of a society than a fraternity or sorority.
We were all in caps and gowns sitting in the basketball stadium. The undergraduate graduating students were high in the stands with the graduate students at lower levels. There were six students on the podium with the dignitaries. Sandy and I were in the last row on the podium.
The president of the university had a few words to say, and then the dean of the English department introduced the valedictorian of the Phd's. A girl went to the podium and gave a quick speech about her fellows contributing to the education of future generations. Then the dean introduced the master's valedictorian that said about ten words then sat down. The president of the university then introduced Sandy, the undergraduate valedictorian, as the youngest person to have ever graduated from the school and told of her amazing grade point along with her being accepted at Harvard school of Medicine. He then welcomed Sandy.
Sandy and I had made up a little skit to do for graduation. Since she is so short, she wouldn't be able to be seen over the podium so when she stood in front of the podium she waved over the top of it then stood beside and turned to look at the folks behind her. She put her hands on her hips and stomped her foot. All of the big wigs were surprised and didn't know what do to. That's where I came in. I had put a small folding step stool under my chair. I stood up then walked to the podium and stood next to the not five feet Sandy. Our height difference was even more exaggerated because we were up on a stage. I unfolded the step stool, held it up for all to see then placed it behind the podium. I next lifted Sandy, all eighty plus pounds of her, on to the stool so she was now visible behind the podium. Sandy thanked me over the PA system. I returned to my seat amidst laughter from the audience, fellow students and most of the dignitaries.
Sandy's talk was complimentary to the university for allowing her to progress at her own rate and to allow her to take more classes than what they normally would have. She praised all of her teachers and said that all of the students were better for having attended the school. Sandy stepped down from her step stool, folded it up then carried it back to our seats. She received a very loud applause. Much louder than the speakers who came before her.
The president then introduced Jim Wilson the basketball coach. As Jim came up to the podium, Big Al the football coach and Fred Weathers came up with him.
Jim started out, "I've never done this before and I'm not sure a coach has ever had the honor of doing this before. I have to tell you a story. A few years ago I scouted a young man, Charles, Chuck, Johnson down in Florida who was a really good baseball player but didn't want to go to the major leagues. He wanted to go to college. The young man was a really good basketball player and would fill an immediate need for our team so I offered a scholarship to him. I don't know why he didn't get an offer from his own state's schools but I sure am glad he came here. The reason these other guys are up here is that while Chuck was here going to school he contributed to Al's football program and to Fred's golf program. He not only contributed but also led the teams to distinction. Here, let's let Al tell you."
Al bent to the microphone, "Chuck showed up for that first practice telling me he didn't know anything about football. I thought I would show him that football players were a better breed but he showed me instead. He played linebacker like he had years of experience. Then we found out he could catch a ball. I sure wish he could stay around for a couple of more years, as he has been the best non-football-scholarship student I've ever had. And that's a kid that had never played the game before. Fred has something to say too.
Fred stood at the podium and smiled. "Chuck was recommended to me by our local golf professional for our golf team. Chuck was supposed to be pretty raw, as he had never played the game before coming up North to the university. He had been learning the game just for fun. Chuck now is one of the best players we have ever graduated and may have a career in golf. But what's coming next is most important. Back to you Jim.
Jim stood proudly then continued, "athletics is not the most important part of being in college. It is only a way for the kids to let off some steam and compete in one or more sports while they are here. The most important part of being here is learning. Chuck has learned well. Good enough to have the second highest grade point in his graduating class. And he has done it in three years. While he played all these sports. May I introduce the class salutatorian, Charles C. Johnson.
I came up to the podium and shook hands with the three coaches amidst lots of flash bulbs from my relatives. "Thank you coach Wilson, coach Al, and coach Fred. I am humbled. Class of 1963, we are at the leading edge of knowledge and technology. All of us now have the tools and opportunity to make our communities, our future employers and our country better. We all wish to congratulate all of our professors and mentors for helping us measure up to the standards of this fine university. I need to say thank you publicly to Sandy, the tiny person preceding me for the help through all those labs. Congratulations to all of the classes of nineteen-sixty-three."
As I sat down, the students, graduates and audience applauded loud and long. I'm sure the applause was for making the talk short. Like I said, it was humbling.
All of us were given fake certificates in the form of a rolled up scroll with a ribbon. Upon handing us our scroll, the president moved our tassels to the other side of our mortarboards. At the conclusion, we tossed them into the air. I think all of us made sure the hats were not damaged as they cost about fifteen dollars if we lost or damaged them.
After the ceremonies my group all went to the country club. Several of the other graduates were celebrating there too. I sat at a table with Trish and Delta, still numb from all the excitement. I really could not have anticipated all the family that showed up. My mom and dad, brothers and sisters were all bragging to anyone who would listen. The girls gave them some spiked soda to help settle me down.
George and Dan had arranged for a nice festive party. As I sat there enjoying all the fun, somehow I didn't feel like that this was the end of my college days.
The girls and I took a short vacation that consisted of us driving to Georgia so I could play the course where the sectionals were going to be held. There was also an amateur tournament the week before the sectionals that I entered. It would be at the Belleville, Illinois country club. The tournament was a fifty-four hole three-day event that had a lot of good amateurs attending.
The Atlanta course was okay, nothing special and after playing two rounds on it, I felt like it wouldn't be a problem to do well. The amateur tournament was pretty neat. Most of the participants were young guys. Some still students others trying to do what I was doing, that is to figure out whether they could make it playing golf.
At the end of the tournament after coming in third, I went to Terry for counseling. He told me not to worry about it, as he had not been able to go with me. He said that a good caddy plus his tutelage would have been the difference between first and third. I wasn't sure about that but was ready to leave for Georgia early for some practice.
Terry and I arrived in Atlanta Sunday evening. We had arranged to play the competition course on Monday and Tuesday but had also found another country club with a very difficult course to play Wednesday and Thursday. The competition course was closed Thursday to prepare it for the three day, fifty-four hole event. Wednesday had been booked for months but we figured Monday and Tuesday on the course should be good enough especially since I had already played it once.
Our Monday morning Tee time was eight in the morning. Terry was going to play along with me. We were able to get two pretty good experienced caddies that could assist in directing us on the course. I shot a seventy-three and Terry shot a seventy-five. Back in the clubhouse eating lunch, a guy came up to Terry seeming ecstatic to see him.
"Hey Terry, what are you doing in Atlanta?" He asked.
"Hey Mike, I'm here to help this fellow win the sectional this weekend. Good to see you, are you still the pro here?" Terry said shaking the guy's hand.
"Mike, meet Chuck Johnson from Florida. Chuck, this is Mike Marten a guy that I played a lot of golf with growing up and while we were in school. We both turned pro the same year and both of us thought we would rather teach golf as a club pro." Terry said this while Mike pulled a chair out, turned it around and sat with his arms on the back of the chair facing us.
"How you doin' Chuck. So you're going to try for the Open? Is this your first try?" Mike asked.
I smiled back, "yes sir, this is kind of my try out to see if golf is what my future is."
"It's a great life Chuck," Mike said. "Terry and I make a living playing a game and teaching a game. Playing on the pro tour is really draining and expensive. A lot of guys play, but a lot of guys have to leave the game because of money."
Terry waved his hand at me, "the kid has three backers, one of them is his dad and other two are like his father-in-law. We want Chuck to give it four years but I don't think he's that patient."
"Two father-in-laws?" Mike asked Terry.
"It's a long story. Maybe Chuck can tell it better, faster," Terry answered.
I never know how to tell others of how the relationship between Trish, Delta and I worked. I wasn't even sure. "I started being around and studying with two girls who were friends since they were babies. When we became closer and I wanted to date one of them, I ended up having to date both of them. This has been the way they were and still are. If I'm with one of them, I'm with both. Their dad's have become good friends of mine while this has all taken place."
"Sounds like you have it together Chuck, you lucky stiff," Mike smiled.
"So what are you going to do with the course that you would close it Thursday?" Terry asked.
"Nothing really. Thursday is being reserved for all the PGA and Open big wigs so they can have a day of golf before baby sitting all the sectional players. You want to play Thursday?" Mike offered.
"We have tee times at the Wild Oaks for Wednesday and Thursday but we have another tee time here tomorrow. Want to play with us? Our tee time is for nine-thirty. You would be done by noon. How about it Mike?" Terry asked.
"Yeah, I can do that. We can put a little something on the game. It's been a while since I took your money," Mike laughed.
Terry shook his head back and forth. "You might not want to play against the kid for money. Lately he's been beating me regularly and it's my job right now to get him to be good enough to turn pro."
"Well, we'll see about that tomorrow at nine-thirty, won't we. Hey, let me pick up your lunch today. Want to play another round this afternoon? I have a late tee time at three with one of the PGA guys. You two could play along with us for a fun foursome. What do you think?" Mike asked.
Terry looked at me and could tell I was all for it. "That would be great Mike. It's actually perfect because we'll do some practice on the range and on the practice green till then. See you around two-forty-five."
"Make two thirty so we can pick out some caddies." Mike said leaving.
We practiced on the driving range till almost two then went to the practice green which was located near the pro shop. Terry had me putting from ridiculous distances. He said it was important for me to practice ball speed when putting from thirty feet and over.