Wayne Part Two

Part II

“Back in 2016 was when I first met Wayne Arrow. He played with our usual group on Monday mornings. This was not a competitive foursome. Everyone kept their own score if they bothered. Wayne kept his and because of the kind of guy he was, he would keep 4 days' scores on a single card. Most of us just tossed the old ones away unless you were some kind of data nut.”

“Wayne was considerate of things. He wouldn't waste the score card if he could use it again.”

“He would walk the course with his three wheeled push cart and replace not only his divots, but if he found the turf that hadn't been replaced he'd walk back until he found the damaged spot and lovingly replace the divot.”

“He volunteered at the local animal shelter. He was a considerate guy.”

“He was a former technical guy for one of the radiation labs around the valley. He was about 10 years older than I was.”

“But Wayne was troubled. It was not all kittens and ribbons. The friendly shell that wrapped him was not very thick.”

“ He had a fast swing, but his game was erratic.”

“If things got too bad, he'd pick up his ball and leave the hole unfinished. If things got really bad clubs were known to leave his hand and not towards the bag. Yes, Wayne was a thrower.”

“Oh no!” said Billy.

“Yes, a thrower... But that's not why we are talking about Wayne.”

“So Wayne was a lot like you. He shot in the low 90s, but his swing promised more. He was missing the ball just a little and with his swing speed, that took him all over the course. And I must include the dark areas where no one wants to go in that. No pond was exempt. All trees had provided stymies at times.”

“If the greens keepers took too long to mow a fairway while Wayne waited, he'd just pick up and walk the hole. Of course he didn't want to hurt the guy, but he wasn't patient enough to wait the extra minute.”

“We would see Wayne from Spring until winter and then he would take a couple of months off. Was it the weather and a needed rest or was he struggling? We'll never know.”

“Would breaking 90 just once really make you happy, Billy? I don't think so. And I'll tell you why. We have to go back to Wayne's penultimate round. As I mentioned he shot in the middle to low 90s. Sometimes his ball striking would be good and sometimes he'd putt well. Some days the irons were godlike.”

“But one day it all came together. The drives were solid and the irons too. The putter was hot and he found that it was a good day for chipping. To sum it all up, Wayne went out and shot 76.”

“Now Billy, this would delight you and it delighted Wayne too. His playing partners watching it all come together were more reserved. They were expecting Wayne to crater at any moment. But he pulled it off and had a scorecard that would be the envy of most golfers. Wayne went home happy. Happier than he had probably ever been as a golfer.”

“But what's next if something like that happens? When all the putts you should make drop and some of the longer ones too? When the driver and the irons match those on YouTube instructional videos and you can't go wrong.”

“Wayne was as much human as the next guy and probably more so. He probably basked in the glow of it all and looked forward to a new life as a golfer who could hit the greens more than not and make the putts and to whom a sand shot was an easy exercise of precise technique.”

“But golf is a rocky shored sea and all human endeavors have huge error bars. Of course the next round didn't go well with Wayne. His drives didn't soar, the irons looked rusty, and the putts were, at best, nervous jabs with unhappy results. In a short phrase, Wayne was back to normal.”

“Now Billy, you need to know that Wayne never recovered from this. He tossed clubs, he took on the stern grimace that we were used to seeing. Holes weren't finished and a quiet broken man trailed through the parking lot. He loaded his clubs in the car and drove off. We never saw him again.”

“It would have been better if he'd taken that 76, assumed it was the as good as it was going to get and retired. Retirement is stretching the term for a recreational golfer, but a new activity was long called for. Golf might have been Wayne's best game, but his demeanor was not up to the peaks and valley of the sport. Maybe shuffleboard or clarinet would have been better choices.”

“Billy, golf is a process. There is no goal or end game there. Enjoy every round for whatever it might show you of physics or human endurance or the will of the indifferent gods or the company of like minded men, as my father used to call it. Don't look for your life's meaning there. Just enjoy the process.”

I wound down my talk and Billy had that far away look in his eyes. Was he thinking of Wayne or a hot dog across the street?

“But, suppose I take a slightly stronger grip? Do you think that will be useful?” asked Billy.

“Step over to the range. I've got a couple of balls. Let's see what that looks like. Maybe latter we work on your soft pitches,” I replied.

And that's the story of Wayne. A lot of this really happened and Wayne did indeed shoot lights out one day. And he did regress back to his old scores. But so far he has hung in there. He is really a likable guy with a sense of humor. I hope he keeps playing.