Golfing

8/5/1994

It’s that time of year again, although lately, almost any time of years is that time of year. Again.

I’m referring to the T.J. Martell Golf Tournament. Actually, the official name of the round-up of the usual suspects is something much more sophisticated, but to most of us, it’s the Martell Golf Tournament.

And that’s what has me hot.

Not the charity, mind you. The T.J. Martel Foundation is supported by our industry like none other…and rightfully so. It’s the golf tournament…or more accurately, the size of the golf tournament that is out of control.

Let me put it to you in a way you can understand. There are too many radio and record people playing golf. Years ago, the golf tournament was conceived by a few die-hard hackers who weren’t into the bowling that was the major feature of the fund raiser. That first year, they were hard-pressed to come up with six groups.

Now? Forget about it.

There are at least two groups of five teeing it up on each hole. And two tournaments: One begins at 7:30 am, the other at 1 pm.

And it’s getting like this every day on every golf course.

I have only myself to blame. Along with a few others who share my grief and pain.

Once upon a time, there was space available for anyone who wanted to play. You could tee it up almost anywhere for about $20 weekdays and $50 on the weekend. But there were few people to play with. Plenty of old men in funny clothes, but none who could relate to what you were all about. So those of us who played began trying to convince others in our business to take it up. That was our biggest mistake. We were too successful. Not at golf. At getting others to try it. The industry fell in love with the game with a vengeance.

Time was, a good rock-and-roller wouldn’t be caught dead on a golf course. Now, half of them have their own tournaments. This year, no less than Eddie Van Halen hosted his own. And the tattooed arms of Motley Crue, Alice Cooper, Judas Priest and other hard rockers book their tours around the availability of golf courses near the venues at which they play.

No wonder Ben Hogan hung it up.

I taught a lot of people in our business the game. It was born of necessity. I had to have someone to pay. I’m sure others will claim that they wee in the same line, but I believe that I (along with Clay Gish) was the first to play golf for adds. I even recall the first record bet I lost. I took on Bob Garland, then of Columbian Records, for “We Just Disagree” by Dave Mason. If I had made par on the 18^th hole, the song might have never made it.

Golf has been a large part of my life…and my business. I was taught in Mississippi by my father, who refused to buy me golf shoes until I beat him playing barefoot. He also made me shoot 40 on the front side with one club before he would get me a full set. (My favorite bet is to play nine with one club and no shoes!) My dad also taught me at an early age to control my temper. The first time I hat a bad shot and threw my club, he fired his 5-iron at my knees from about 20 feet. I still walk with a slight limp, but haven’t tossed a club since.

Growing up in the South, I learned to gamble on the game. Naturally, I passed this along. Nassau, Automatic 2 Downs, Air Press, Rabbit, Captain, Pirate, Skins, Hammer and Pingo, Pango, Pongo just to name a few. I also learned the needle. In golf, you aren’t supposed to talk when your opponent is hitting. In the South, you can jabber right up to impact. Some of the most common phrases in the entertainment foursomes? Heidi Fleiss (a hook, as in hooker), O.J. (slice), Billy Martin (a dead Yank), Linda Rondstadt (a ball that flies past another on the fairway is in “Blue Bayou”…blew by you), “Help Me Rhonda” (or any other Beach Boy song, meaning the ball landed in a sand trap), Obi Wan Kanobe (out of bounds…O.B.), Jethro Tull (in the water…from “Aqualung”), etc.

I believe I first met Bob Garland, Bruce Hix, Sammy Alfano, Bill Richards, Todd Cavanaugh, Rick Gillette, Justin Fontaine, David Leach, Jerry Dean and John Brody playing golf. And it’s a lead-pipe cinch I’ve had some down-to-the-wire finishes with these and more, including Les Garland, Rick Dees, Al Coury, Bill Pfordresher, Jim Burruss, Steve Smith, Michael Prince and Rocky.

I must admit I got a lot of people to take up the game, including Burt Baumgartner. He was an LPM in San Francisco when I programmed KFRC (back when it meant something). I insisted on golf games on Tuesday mornings and didn’t give out the adds until the turn.

I’m even responsible for the impossible: Getting Network Forty publisher Gary Bird hooked. So far, Gary’s favorite club is his “fore” iron, but he’s coming along.

Golf has shown me a lot of great times. Playing in the snow with Jim Parsons in Tahoe; making an eagle on 18 at Calabassas with Gar-Man to keep a decade-long string of ties alive; making my first hole-in-one in the presence of Dave Urso (his first visit to a golf course) and hearing him nonchalantly say, “Nice shot;” chipping out of the scorers’ tent at the L.A. Open to within three feet of the pin as the gallery roared (I missed the putt), seeing Bill Thompson throw his club into a tree and watching it stay there; meeting John Wayne in the Lakeside locker room; witnessing Hix choke the club pro for putting another group in front of us; Rocky running his cart into the tree at Pebble Beach and watching Burt and his famous “pudge” shoot that nearly killed Dutch in a sand trap.

My greatest joy was beating Kid Leo out of a free set of golf clubs on the last shot of the day in the “closest to the pin” contest at last year’s Martell. Also starting the “Kind of Annual Gerry Peterson Memorial” 18 years ago when I changed my air name. The third one is coming up in a month if I can find anyone to pop for the T-shirts.

But all these stories bring me back to the original problem: There are too many people in our business playing golf. It’s damned near impossible to get a tee-time in Los Angeles because of you people who wear bright shirts and plaid pants and shoot 150 with a mulligan after every shot. Can’t some of you go back to tennis?

Fore!