We met Mike and a legendary player at the pro shop at two-thirty. I thought Terry was going to get on his knees and bow to the guy. Since I had not been a golfer for very long, I recognized his name but he was just another guy to me. He was very friendly.
"You sure are a tall one," the pro player said looking up at me from under the brim of his hat. "I didn't know they made clubs long enough for someone your size." He said smiling.
Terry explained that he was using today and tomorrow for my training and he was going to talk me through almost every stroke. Mike and the Pro said they would enjoy watching and listening while they played along.
I shot last on the first tee. Terry reminded me to go through my approach and swing by the numbers telling myself out loud each step and not to mumble, say it like I was teaching. My approach and presentation was good, my practice swing was fine. I presented the face of my club to the ball, drew back then swung through the ball not trying to kill it. The result was almost two hundred ninety yards straight down the fairway of the long par four first hole. Mike and the Pro gasped.
"You damn near drove the green," Mike said.
"Nice and straight," the pro added.
The other three guys had to use five irons to get to the green but all I needed was my pitching wedge. I dropped the ball about a foot from the hole. I made an easy birdie, Terry made a long putt for birdie and both Mike and the pro two putted for parr.
The second hole was a short par three that a nine iron was almost too much for. I put the ball on the green but about twenty feet from the hole. Terry did about the same but closer. Mike and the pro each used a three wood and put the ball darn near into the cup.
Terry told me to remember the feel from the practice green. We looked over the path of the ball and to see a distinct grain of the grass that would make the ball curve back toward the hole fairly sharply. I putted out about eight feet and watched the ball curve back toward the hole and stop on the lip. Just a little stronger and it would have been in. I tapped in for par. The others made their putts for birdie and we were all even.
The par five third was an equalizer. It was a long humbling hole with hazards everywhere. The pro said this hole had lost him several games. I was able to drive over the mid fairway bunkers to a position on the far side of the dogleg for a long chip to the green. Terry talked me through the shot making sure I had a high arc and didn't get a lot of spin on the ball. The ball did a neat bounce on the green just on the far side of the pin then spun backwards into the cup for a double eagle. Mike and the pro couldn't believe it.
Terry said, "This isn't the first time he's done that. His short irons are deadly accurate. Wait till you see him hit out of sand, it's amazing."
The rest of the round was like that. I had so much luck on every hole it was ridiculous. I had a bogey on a couple of holes but ended with a very nice sixty-eight. Terry and Mike both shot a par seventy-two. The pro shot a seventy-one.
"You know I shot one of my better first rounds here ever and you beat me by three strokes. That is uncanny," the pro said. "Terry you're doing a great job instructing. I've never seen someone teach like you're doing with the student saying out loud everything they are doing."
"Hopefully, when he's playing on his own, he will say those same things in his head for each stroke. He's got a ton of natural talent. All he needs is practice," Terry said.
"You been playing all your life?" The pro asked me over coffee in the clubhouse.
Terry answered for me. "A couple of years ago, this kid came out to the my club. One of his girl friends folks is a member. She asked me to give him some instruction so he could play with her dad. He played his first game two years ago and has played only sporadically since. He has played on his school's golf team two years now and is doing really well as you can see."
"That's a great story," the pro said. "I bet you play other sports. Athletes do well in golf. That drive of yours is awesome, so long and so straight. Keep that up and you and I will be playing together on the tour."
As he was leaving he shook my hand and wished me luck for the sectional.
"Well what do you think of beating your first major professional golfer. You made me a hundred today," Terry said patting his pocket. "I bet both those guys fifty that you would equal or beat them. Let's go get cleaned up and have a steak for supper on our winnings."
We played Tuesday but I didn't do as well. I shot par for the eighteen but missed a couple of fairways. Terry beat me for a change but Mike was one over. Terry collected twenty for beating Mike and twenty for me beating Mike. We had to promise to give him the opportunity to win his money back by playing him on Thursday. He said he couldn't even work himself in on Wednesday, as they were booked so heavy.
Wednesday and Thursday mornings we played the other golf course with instructions on every hole again. On Thursday afternoon we joined Mike and one of the Open officials. Terry told me to tell myself what to do in my head this time just like I would do tomorrow. Again, I shot par but was playing over cautious the entire round. Making sure my drives were straight and my irons got me close to the pin. Because I was being tentative, my putts came up short a couple of times. The pro shot par and Terry was two under collecting another twenty from Mike.
Friday my tee time was for nine. I met the three players I would be with on the driving range at seven. At eight I switched to the practice green then Terry and I went to the starters table. They checked my identification and gave me the scorecard. When we went to the first tee, two of the guys had to go behind a bush to throw up. I'm sure glad I had game experience from sports all my life. That is a hell of a way to start the day.
The first day round was almost like the round I played with the pro and Mike except better. I ended up with a sixty-seven, no double eagles but a bunch of birdies. Terry and Mike joked later that if I could keep it up, I might meet or beat the course record of sixty-five. After the round we ate lunch then watched some of the other players. At three, Terry had me back out on the driving range. We went through every club in the bag just to keep the feel for them. We finished with an hour of putting, thirty minutes of it from as far away as I could get. Terry had this thing about long puts. I thought I should just practice getting closer with my short irons.
Saturday my tee time was for ten in the morning so my luck was holding. I ate at seven then was on the range by quarter to eight. I was bunched with three jokesters who all knew each other. They cut up so much that they actually hindered each other. They should have opted to separate themselves so they would have done better. Terry was caddying for me and told me to just ignore them and keep telling myself how to swing. He was great coaching me on every shot, helping with club selection. I ended with a two under seventy for the day. Actually I felt pretty good about it considering the distraction from the clowns I had been with.
Terry had me practicing on the driving range in the afternoon but mostly working on my short irons. There was a big garbage can about fifty yards out. The can had obviously been there for a long time. On the side of it was a giant five with a dollar sign. Terry said that for every ball put in there the club would give you five dollars. After about twenty balls, I put the first one in. Then a few shots later put a second ball in the can. Less than ten balls after that I put my third ball dead center. Terry said that was enough for the day. When we turned in the empty ball baskets the attendant wrote out a slip that had fifteen dollars written on it. He said to go into the shop and they would give me cash.
When we went into the pro shop, Mike congratulated me on my rounds and wished me luck for the next day saying he thought I might be the leader so far. Terry told him I had just won fifteen bucks for dropping three balls into the garbage can.
"No way," Mike said. "Nobody puts three ball in that can in the same day."
Terry said the magic words, "wanna bet?"
"Damn right I do," Mike exclaimed. "Come on I'll get another bucket and if he can put one ball into the can I'll pay up. How much you got kid?"
"I don't bet sir," I answered.
Terry shrugged his shoulders and said, "I just can't get him to part with his money. I'll go easy on you though Mike, let's make it twenty."
"Twenty? Hell no, let's make it fifty. Shit, half the club would bet a hundred you couldn't do three in the same day," Mike gestured toward the door.
My forth ball dropped into the bucket. Mike handed Terry the fifty then told me to keep going and see how many I could do. Of the fifty balls, I put seven in the can. Mike wanted to go get a bunch of club members and make wagers for the rest of the day. Terry just laughed and said that I had probably practiced enough for the day. He did remind Mike that besides the fifteen for the first three balls I now had another thirty-five coming for the seven more.
"You're going to break the bank kid. You're expensive. Every time I wager against you, you're taking my money. Guess I better get on your side," Mike said getting money out of the register for me.
"You see," Terry said. "You just paid for all those range balls for the whole trip. Tomorrow morning we'll see if you can hit signs."
Sunday my tee time was one in the afternoon. We changed up a little and had breakfast then played around on the practice green a while. They had a sand trap with another small practice green and that's where Terry had me blasting balls. When we were through, I had to take off my shoes and socks off to get all the sand off my feet. Since we checked out of the hotel, I had more socks in the car so I changed socks then went to the driving range. Terry had me use my mid irons and to try to hit the hundred yard marker. It was a half sheet of plywood so it was pretty big. It is very difficult to control a five iron enough to hit a target at a hundred yards. What was funny though was when I used my seven, and nine iron, I was able to hit the board nearly every time. We ended up at eleven working with my driver and fairway woods.
We ate a slow light lunch then walked around a little looking at all the equipment displayed by the various manufacturers. Terry said that there should be some equipment prizes at the end of the day plus we bought raffle tickets from every booth.
The guys I was bunched with on Sunday were all serious about the round. All of us had shot pretty well the previous two days and wanted a good third round. No one discussed what he had shot previously but we all knew we were close.
I wasn't perfect, but darned close. I shot three under for the day and ten under for the tournament. When I turned in my score card, the judge used a red marker to initial it and put it in a separate container. Another judge wrote my numbers onto a big sheet then told me to go into the next tent for an exit interview. I wandered in and was directed to a folding table with a couple of men there. They asked me about the days round then asked about the Friday and Saturday's rounds. They were just nodding their heads and saying "good, good." They asked about the course and about whether I thought they had been organized well. I told them I was happy with everything and that this was actually only my second amateur tournament other than at school. The wished me luck and told me where to be for the posting of the people who would be invited to the Open.
Terry and I cleaned up and put my equipment in the car then we ate a nice early supper while waiting for the results. At six there was a big commotion at the tournament bulletin board. Next to it was a platform with a podium and microphone. One of the exit interview guys got up and said that the people going to the open were going to be announced from worse to best scores. The worst score of the thirty-five guys going to the open was ten over. This continued till there were two guys that had been two under for the three days. The next announcement stunned me, he called my name and told the listeners that my score was an unbelievable ten under par. Terry was slapping me on my back and yelling, "told ya, told you so."
"Charles Johnson, would you come up here please," the announcer broadcast. He had two other guys with good scores come up too.
"We have some prizes donated by some manufacturers. No money, because you guys are probably amateurs but prizes are always okay. For the third place winner, we have a really nice golf bag, with a wheeled cart and a putter. For the second place winner, another bag, cart, and putter plus this new style driver with two boxes of balls." The announcer was very demonstrative, dragging the prizes over into piles.
"Now for first place, Spaulding is going to fit you with a set of professional quality clubs just for you. Along with that, we have a bag and cart for you along with one of these Sam Snead putters and a couple dozen balls." He handed me a certificate while dragging more stuff into a pile. "The best part of this is a special prize from Wilson. They are giving away an all expense trip for a week at the U.S. Open Championship being held at Augusta, Georgia this year and will pay the one hundred dollar entrance fee for you."
There was lots of applause and hand shaking. This was very nice. It would cut down on a lot of expenses.
Terry and I hauled all the stuff back to his car then went to all the booths to see if we had won anything. Terry got a neat putter and a fancy new driver from two different tents. I got a dozen balls then went to the Spaulding tent to see about being fitted for the prize clubs. They had one of their engineers there who used a cloth measuring tape on my arms and legs then he had me hold a broom handle with a broom like I would a driver and he measured that. When he was done he asked about my clothes sizes and shoe size. He went to the back of the tent and brought back two boxes of golf shoes and had me try them on. He apologized for not having any clothes large enough for me, as I was just too tall for the average clothes they had brought to the tournament. They took my home address and phone number along with the country club information.
A fancy guy in a nice suit talked to us a while asking if I was anticipating turning professional. I nodded at Terry and he went off with the man discussing stuff I wasn't supposed to know about. They came back in about five minutes and we left.
Terry and I left for the drive back home stopping later that night at a Howard Johnson's. Terry explained that the man was from the manufacturer and was offering money for endorsements. Since I was still an amateur, Terry had told him to hold that thought and we would get back to him. Terry told me that the money a professional golfer made was not just at the tournaments but from the endorsements and manufacturer personal appearances. I told him I didn't have a clue but could be easily guided to do what was correct.
We made it home Monday to celebrate with the girls and their parents. George and Dan were saying their plan was working perfectly. I called my Dad and told him how everything had gone. Dad was very happy and told me how proud of me he was. I made sure that dad had advised the draft board that I was taking the summer off from school. Dad figured that if I stayed out of school I could advise them in the fall. That night was a very nice reunion with my two loves. They said that I was keeping them from studying but were happy that I was.
The next morning I put together all the extra cash we had and separated out what we would need for groceries and everyday stuff then planned a trip to the bank. The girls went off to school and I waited till nine to go to the bank to put the money in our joint account. I was planning to open a separate account for all the golf stuff so it would be easier to keep track of. The golf pro had given me some good advise by suggesting that I set up my accounting early so I would be able to pay my taxes as I went.
I walked into the bank, across the tiled floor up to the little roped opening to wait for the next available teller. There was a guy in front of me hunched over mumbling to the teller. All of a sudden his voice grew louder, "give me the goddamn money, now." I stepped back a step wondering what was going on. I looked around the bank and didn't see anyone who looked like a guard but I could see the teller at the next window with shock on her face.
The man at the window spun around with what looked like a forty-five in his hand. Dumb me slapped the gun and his hand while swinging at the guy's head and lunging at him. My fist hit the side of his head and my body was taking him down in a clean tackle at the same time. When my hand hit the gun, it went off shooting straight up. When we landed on the floor, his hand was still clutching the gun and the jolt made the gun go off again, this time point blank into my shoulder. The buck from the gun going off knocked the gun out of the now unconscious guy's hand. The noise of the gun was accompanied by screams from the women in the bank.
Suddenly there was a guard standing over the man with his foot on the wrist that had held the gun. I was rolling away holding my shoulder that hurt like hell. A couple of seconds' later cops were everywhere. One of them ripped my shirt and started trying to cover where the bullet hit. A lady said she was a nurse and took a bunch of rags some others had produced and made a compress then wrapped me up tight until I could get to a doctor. I was surprising alert but was really hurting. The nurse said I was probably in shock but should be okay, as I wasn't bleeding terribly.
A few minutes later an ambulance arrived and the driver and attendant put me on a gurney and hauled me out to the ambulance then drove quickly to the hospital.
It seemed about the time I was put on a bed in the emergency room I passed out. I didn't wake up till the next day in an off white sterile looking room connected to hoses and machines with my shoulder tightly bandaged and held immobile at my side. As I came around, opening my eyes, two faces appeared. Trish and Delta were staring down at me. They looked haggard as if they had not slept. "So what's up?" I asked.
They both burst into tears but didn't touch me, looking as if they wished to devour me but wouldn't touch me for fear of hurting me. A nurse came in and had them step back. She did a pulse check then a blood pressure check plus the thermometer into the mouth thing. She wrote down all the numbers and said she would be right back. The girls crowded over me again and I gave them a smile and a kissing motion with my mouth. I got kisses. They were still kissing me when the nurse with a guy in a white smock came in. He looked into my eyes then stood back.
He was standing by the bed with his arms folded. "Well Mr. Johnson, you're going to live. However you are not going to be able to use that shoulder and your left arm for a while. All the bones up there and your rotator cuff was badly damaged. I think we put all the bones back together correctly. It's like a jig saw puzzle putting each piece in place so they can grow back together correctly. There was a lot of muscle and cartilage damage so I'm not sure what kind of use your going to have out your shoulder right away. A few years from now there is going to be special metal replacement shoulder, hip and knee joints but they are still in development right now so you may have to wait a while for full use of your arm. You're muscled like an athlete. I hope this doesn't hurt your near future."
Trish said, "he just qualified for the U.S. Open and was planning on trying to be a professional golfer."
"Darn, that's too bad. You won't be playing in the Open this year. Hopefully, you will heal up and be able to play golf again, perhaps next year," he said.
"Well, I guess that means back to school," I said almost cheerfully.
"What were you studying," the doctor asked.
"I graduated with a chemistry, biology and pre-med. Majors," I said not trying to brag.
"Oh my. All that and golf too. So what are you going to go into now that you will go back to school?" He asked.
"I really don't know. I'll just work on my masters and keep learning till the answer comes. I'd like to do something in research," I said.
"We need more doctors of all kinds. If you want to go to medical school you'll have to apply. How are your grads," he asked becoming interested in the subject.
Delta answered this one, "Chuck was second in his graduating class. He has been offered several possibilities from the university and was interviewed by Harvard."
"Now that would be something. Harvard medical school could get you a long way toward your research goal. You might see if you could still get in," he advised. "I'm going to leave you but will look at your wounds in the morning. We're going to be giving you some more x-rays this afternoon so get ready for them. The staff will be careful not to bump you around too much. See you tomorrow."
The girls and I had a long discussion till I finally told them that I needed to pee and that I was starved. The nurse made me use a urinal and the girls washed my hands then fed me the goop they called lunch. An hour later when I complained that I was a growing boy, the nurse relented and had a couple of sandwiches and some milk brought in.
A police detective came by to see how I was doing. He asked if he could get a statement from me and have me sign it. He said that a FBI agent would be coming by and would want the same thing so he said he would have my statement typed up so I could have it ready for the agent. The bank robber had pleaded not guilty at his preliminary hearing but was given a bond amount high enough that he wasn't going anywhere. He was charged with the federal bank robbery along with the state's attempted murder charge. Either conviction would give him a twenty-five years to life sentence.
That evening the girls' parents came in to see me. Terry and Fred came too. Terry said he had already told the Open folks what had happened so they could let another player enter. The sectional people were going to send me the money instead of using it as an entrance fee. They said it wouldn't hurt my amateur status because of the circumstances. George and Dan were disappointed that the pro plans were going to have to go on hold till we found out whether I could recover. Fred agreed that I should go back to school and he thought that he could make sure that my last year of eligibility could still apply toward my schooling even if I couldn't play any sports. I sent the girls home and told them to go to school. I wasn't going anywhere but they needed to do what was necessary for their future while they could.
I had told George and Dan to tell my folks that I was going to be fine and not to worry. As soon as I was able, I called them and we talked for a half-hour. I assured them that they didn't need to come as I was being smothered with care.
I stayed almost two weeks in the hospital. The second week, they allowed me to be up and walk up and down the hallway. I was amazed at how week I had become so fast. With my arm in a sling strapped tightly to my side I was a little off balance but was able to get around pretty well. I needed help dressing myself and washing but could do most of my personal stuff alone. The girl kept sneaking me Big Macs, fries and shakes, as the hospital just didn't feed me enough.
My first day at home, Cecile and Carol took care of me or should I say hovered over me while the girls were at school going to class and doing their grad staff duties. The moms at least recognized my need for lots of food and I had plenty of soup and sandwiches except on my birthday. For my twentieth birthday Carol fixed me a great meatloaf with mashed potatoes, gravy and green beans. Instead of a cake, Cecile made Dutch apple pie for me. They put twenty candles on it so I could blow them out. I sure hope my wish comes true.
After about a week, the moms agreed that I could look after myself during the day. I sat at the piano and played some tunes with one hand. The inactivity had my mind going a hundred miles an hour thinking of school, sports, tunes and such. I got out some music paper and wrote some ideas that had been banging in my head. In the evening, I had one of the girls to play what I had written so I could hear it two handed. I had one play a rhythm guitar while the other played the keyboard so I could hear how full it would be. I must have created a couple dozen different pieces that were pretty good. Some could have words for ballads, some could be full band things. Most had a jazzy blues theme that reflected my mental attitude.
I walked to the university offices and applied for the second short summer session. I thought that if I took a lecture course without a bunch of lab, I should be able to do it all right. I went to meet the Prof. for the class to be pleasantly surprised to have one of the deans from graduation teaching the class. He said he was sorry to see my damaged shoulder but happy to have me back as a student. That evening the girls were excited that I was going to be back in school.
I made a deal with the couple in our apartment. I knocked five dollars a week off their rent if they would cut the grass for me and keep up with the weeding. They were happy to do that and were able to enjoy an extra five dollars a week in food or entertainment.