Teed Off Ch 02

This is the 2

nd

of a 3 chapter story. You will need to read chapter 1 for this to make sense. Chapter 3 will be posted in the Romance section.

*****

My first stop was in London. While there, Sam wanted me to think about how the company could open a small office, probably in the UK, to support our quickly growing European and Middle Eastern business. I needed to meet with some of our UK distributors. Fortunately, only one of the distributors was actually in London, which meant that I didn't have to drive in London traffic. This was good because I hate having to drive on the left-hand side of the road, which takes all my concentration. I do not drive in London because I would surely have an accident there. On the one day I had to go there, I hired a driver.

I would attend meetings in the mornings and early afternoon. Then I would head to either Royal St. Georges Golf Club or Royal Cinque Ports Golf Club, just off the English Channel to practice for an hour and then play 9-holes, really focusing on the playing on these different styles of courses. My low burrowing shots really did well with the wind, and my ability to shape shots to the left or right into or with the wind came in handy as well. It hadn't rained recently, which I'm told was a rarity there, so I wasn't sure what the qualifying in Scotland would bring. After wrapping a good five days in London, I flew up to Edinburgh.

Neil was waiting for me at the airport. We got my baggage and clubs. He rushed me to his house for dinner. It was good to visit with Edith again. I hadn't seen her in several years. After dinner, we all went to a local pub where they knew the owners. They were their neighbors from Pitlochry. Well actually their neighbors' daughter, Margaret, or Maggie, owned the place and ran it, along with her son who helped out and did various other things which they weren't too keen to talk about. It was a good sized place and looked nice on the inside. When we walked in there seemed to be a lively, but fun crowd who was happy and enjoying themselves. It made me think of a Scottish version of Cheers. But there were a few in the crowd who looked to be sullen and ready to prey on the rest of the crowd. It was a strange mix.

Maggie was happy to see them, and I was happy to see Maggie. She was a beautiful red haired, sturdily build woman of around her early 40s. This was no waif. She was built like a Scottish bar maid, but looked like an angel. I guess you could say she was big boned, because she wasn't thin, but not fat. She had a thin nose and high cheek bones, and those beautiful sapphire blue eyes would shine in the dark. I was immediately smitten, along with every other male in the place, I'm sure. Neil caught me looking more than once and called me on it. "Ahh, are you a little sweet there on Maggie. Know that she would be a tough one to land there, mate. She must have the thickest skin around, since she only receives about 1000 pickup lines each night."

"No worries Neil. I have other priorities."

"That you do, laddie." He couldn't help himself though. If he thought it would make me uncomfortable then he was all-in. "Maggie!! Come over here lassie. Let me introduce you to me best friend, Tim. The Yank I told you about."

I was surprised he did this, but in for a penny, in for a pound. I stood up to greet her, and she smiled at me and scowled at him. "Ah, I see you brought a gentleman to me. Too bad none of his manners wore off on you." Turning to me, as I sat back down, she said. "What are you doin' hangin' with the lot of him?" She was smiling now and sat with us for a moment.

"Me Tim is going to enter the Senior Open qualifying on the following Monday. He's hoping to play his way into the tournament." Then he lowered his voice a little, "We are both going to win a fortune on him winning." What? This was news to me. What was he talking about?

Speaking just as softly Maggie replied, "Now you be careful who you place bets with around here. Some of the places that look reputable, are not. If you think you are going to win a large sum, you need to bet with one of the big shops like William Hill. I know the odds there aren't as good, but you want to make sure you get paid, not hurt. Trust me Neil. Edith, make sure he listens on this. And you!" pointing to me. "If either of you bet much, you take care of yourself. Strange things have been known to happen when large bets get placed.

Then much louder, "Well, on a lighter note. First round is on me, and Edith, make sure Tim comes to visit me again. It's not often a gentleman stops in." Then she turned to leave giving me one more smile. Was she swaying her ass for me to see?

Now it was Edith's turn to speak. She is almost the antithesis of Neil. Where Neil can be garish and flamboyant, Edith is much more proper. If opposites attract, and I'm not sure they do, then there was some strong magnetism between them. "Tim, I don't know what you have in your blood, but she saw something in you. She never would give Neil here a free round, and..."

Neil jumped in, "Hey. She's nice to me."

"as I was saying...and, she just asked you to come back. Do not belittle that. That was quite the compliment she just gave you. Maggie is a fine girl and running a place like this doesn't come easy."

Neil couldn't help himself, "No matter. Our boy here is going to be too busy to be chasing any skirts."

It was a rowdy place and we had a good time. We said our goodbyes to Maggie and headed back to their place. I would need the rest.

_________________

The next morning, we headed to St. Andrews to look around. There wasn't really much to do as no one was ready for golfers yet, but Neil found someone who could tell us what we needed to know. Shortly thereafter we left, hoping to come back the following week. We had lunch nearby and then went up to practice and play at Carnoustie. Wow. I'm not a huge golf history nut, but I recognize most of the major courses, and here we are playing on Carnoustie, and this wasn't even the main event. This would be some week. We didn't play the Championship Course, because they were holding The Open this year, but Neil had us a tee time at their Burnside course.

Neil was a decent golfer, so we had a good time. However, this was the one time when I could really needle him. Over our entire relationship, Neil had been the strong brash one. I always happily played straight-man for him. On this, though, it was my turn to needle him. The Burnside course was 'only' 6000 yards and from the tips it was 6100. Neil played from the markers and I played from the tips.

The length wasn't really that important today, though. With the wind blowing, it was a good education for me into links golf with an instructor. No, Neil couldn't help me with my swing, but he knew how to play in the wind and weather on these courses and could tell me what the ball should do. It was my job to try to hit the ball on the right path.

It was a good, but humbling day of practice. Sometimes, even with the wind, I would hit it perfectly, but on others the wind would get stronger or weaker, push the ball off the expected path of flight. On some shots I was 20 yards away from where I was expecting it to land. Neil would try to advise me how to read the wind blowing across the sea or across the scrub grass that was around to gauge when a gust was coming. He would also say, "hit it lower to keep it out of the wind," or, "play the bounce. Don't be afraid to roll it up on the green." That was my plan, bouncing and rolling out of the wind. I'm glad we were here at Carnoustie today. It's hard to imagine playing 7300 yards in that kind of wind. The lack of rain was really drying the courses out, making the ground very hard.

That night I skyped Meredith and she was super excited for me. She took her phone to Ken and when he found out it was me on the phone he started laughing asking if I knew what I had gotten myself into. Then he wished me luck, saying that I was going to need a whole lot of it real soon. Meredith hit him on the arm after he said that, saying to just focus on playing well and she would see me soon for our European vacation. Actually, I looked forward to that.

An education was given to me the rest of the week. By day, the course and the weather would wear me down, and in the afternoons, we would watch old tape of play from earlier Opens played at St. Andrews. At night I would try to catch a few minutes with Maggie. I did finally meet Maggie's son Matthew. He was a young man in his early twenties. He seemed to switch between helping her and agitating her. I wasn't really sure what to make of him.

She and I did have one fun night together. The pub has a karaoke night about once or twice a month. She said it brings in a different crowd but is infrequent enough that it doesn't scare away the regulars. Nobody was really any good. People were just up there for the fun of it.

Maggie and Edith goaded Neil into singing something. He refused until Maggie said, "What are you afraid to embarrass yourself in front of your friend. Ha. I bet if you did it, we could get Tim to do it."

What? No way was I getting up there. I'm the guest here.

Neil got that look of his I recognized so well and knew I would soon be in trouble.

"All right, if Tim says he'll do it, I will."

Then everyone looked at me. O Lord! I've never performed Karaoke before. No, seriously, why the hell would I, but I can sing like freakin' Frank Sinatra in the car. Oh sure, I didn't sound like him, but I would sing when by myself. I knew if I ever had to do Karaoke what song I would sing, but I would require a partner for the "performance".

"All right, I'll do it, but Maggie has to help me, just a little."

This got her attention quickly. "Oh, no. I have to run the pub. I don't do that."

I had them. "Well, it seems we have ourselves a Mexican standoff. Neil's willing. I'm willing. All I'm asking for is a little help from Maggie, but if she's too afraid to sing two or three lines, not even a whole song..." I had baited her perfectly.

"Oh, I think I can handle a few lines. What are you singing?" Bingo!

Neil got up and sang The Proclaimers, I'm Gonna Be (500 miles). It was hilarious, but fun. He sang it to Edith, who turned 10 different shades of red while doing it.

Everyone clapped for him, just like all the other crooners that performed.

I planned to perform The Georgia Satellites, Keep Your Hands to Yourself, except that all the lines attributed to the lady in the song were performed by Maggie. For example, one verse of the lyrics went like this:

Me: See I wanted her real bad, and I was about to give in

Me: But that's when she started talking about true love,

Me: Started talking about sin

Me: And I said, honey I'll live with you for the rest of my life,

Maggie: No hug-ee no kiss-ee until you make me your wife-a

Me: My honey my baby, don't put my love upon no shelf

Maggie: Don't hand me no lines and keep your hands to yourself

When she would sing the line "keep your hands to yourself", I would come near her like I was trying to grab her butt and she would slap them away.

Also, there are a couple of sections of the song where it's just instrumental, which is when she and I would dance together and I would act the fool, which wasn't hard. The crowd howled. Hell, I did to.

I was almost crying by the time the song finished. Neil and Edith were crying. Maggie was laughing hard too. It was actually a lot of fun. When we walked off the stage together, we went over to Neil and Edith's table. Maggie had to get back to work, but she was still smiling when she gave me a huge open mouth kiss before turning and going back to the bar.

I was stunned, gobsmacked. So were Edith and Neil. Was she swaying that ass at me again? It's hard to tell because I think it put me into a trance. That was one hell of a night, and the most fun I'd had in years.

As the week went on, we seemed to draw a little more attention from the menacing side of the bar. They were not overt about it, but I would catch them watching us from time to time. I held on to my wallet whenever I moved around. I asked Neil about it on the drive back.

"Oh, those wankers? Well, I wouldn't want to walk down a dark alley with them, but it seems they've found out you are a golfer. They appear to have taken an interest in you."

"Me? Why me? I'm a nobody."

"You know that, and I certainly know that, but if they can learn enough about you to maybe place a bet, or even better be the book on a bet involving you, then that gives them a leg up in the bet.

"Remember, around here people will bet on anything and everything, but golf especially. Don't worry. It shouldn't impact your playing."

I took Saturday off to rest. I still chipped and putted, but no big swings. I had been playing a lot of golf and still had 8 more days to go, if all went well. Finally, Sunday arrived, and I had my first practice at St. Andrews. Wow. It was really hard to believe. If my grandfather could see me now. We spent many a Saturday and Sunday afternoon watching Nicklaus, Watson, Ballesteros battle it out on this course, and now I wasn't just playing the course but participating in a tournament. It was surreal.

Since I didn't have a caddy, I was assigned one, even for the practice round, which was good for me since he would know the course better than me. Liam was his name. He was a tall guy, probably in his late 20. Bleached blonde hair. He was very helpful out on the course, but at times seemed a little too slick for my tastes. However, I guessed that if he could help me understand the course better, then I could put up with any odd traits he might have.

It was a good practice round and the wind and dry weather continued. I had made a lot of progress during the week. By the time we reached the back nine, he could see how I played and would suggest what type of shot I needed to hit, where it should land, how I should work with or against the wind. I played pretty well on the back nine. I was ready for the qualifying round tomorrow.

The next morning Edith kissed me on the cheek and wished me luck. Neil drove me to the course and shook my hand, wishing me luck as well. Neil was wearing a neon yellow hat with his tourism company logo embroidered on the front and his web address on the back. He wore a more tasteful white jacket with the same information. I got a kick out of that, but it was good marketing for him. I hoped their tax system would let him deduct the tickets he purchased.

At 11:14 am I started what was at that point the most important round of my life. I played well and as if I had nothing to lose, which I didn't. We all agreed that if I played in this tournament and/or qualified for the open, that was it. I would be done. I had enjoyed the support of the last few months, but I knew this was it. I enjoyed the playing, but all the practice took the fun out of it. So I wasn't tight at all while playing, when normally someone would expect me to be nervous. Liam even commented on it, and I told him I had nothing to lose.

All I had to do was be in the top 24 at the end of the day and I would make the tournament. It was a challenging round. Even though I played well, it took me a while to move up the leaderboard. One stroke could move you up or down about 6 - 8 places, so I was feeling a little stress towards the end. Since I teed off early, there were plenty of golfers to finish after me. When I finished, I was in 10th place, which wasn't bad, but as the day wore on more golfers would finish with a better score than me, pushing me down the leaderboard. Liam, Niel and I sat in the clubhouse and drank while watching the play unfold and the scores post. With only a few golfers left, I was at the cutoff, #24. I don't normally like to wish bad things on people, but I was praying for all sorts of bad things to happen to the equipment of the remaining players at that moment.

Alas, it wasn't meant to be. In the last grouping of the day, a golfer posted a lower score bumping me to 25th place. I was out. It was disappointing but, we gave it a good go. There were only 6 other amateurs in the qualifying tournament, and only 1 of them had made the cut. We were settling our bill, when someone wearing a smart looking sport coat entered the bar area looking for someone. "Is there a Mr. Humphry in the area? Again, we are looking for Mr. Humphry! Tim Humphry!"

Neil and I walked over to the gentleman to see what he wanted. "I'm Tim Humphry."

"Oh good. I'm glad we found you before you left. There was a signed error on one of the other scorecards. That gentleman was disqualified. You are our number 24. You are in. Congratulations. Welcome to The Senior Open." Then he shook my hand and led us to the credentials we would need for the week.

I was stunned. Maybe I never really expected to get in. Maybe I didn't allow myself to think about it, but Holy Cow. I made it. Un-freaking-believable!

Neil gave me a big hug and we whooped about for a minute. Then Liam and I arranged for what time we would meet for our practice rounds. When we made it back to Neil's, Edith was excited for me too. I would need a valium or something to calm me down; I was so high. Then my phone rang, and it was Meredith. She literally screamed through the phone, "You did it. I'm so proud of you." That really made it for me. I could miss the cut by 20 strokes, and I wouldn't care. I was so relieved and comforted that my daughter was with me in all of this. Now I just wished that she were here with us, and I told her that.

"I wish I were there too Daddy." I heard Ken say something in the background but couldn't make it out.

"What did he say?"

"He wished you luck in the tournament."

As soon as the final field was posted Neil checked William Hill's website to see what the odds were on me.

"Ha. You've got them fooled. We are going to make a killing on you. You and the other qualifying amateur are at +120000. Can you believe that? I'll take that all day."

"What is +120000?"

"Whenever you see a line with a plus sign, you divide by 100. They are saying you are a 1200/1 shot. A 1000-pound bet would return 1,200,000 pounds."

This was exciting and nerve wracking at the same time.

"I'm going to put 2000 pounds on you to win. How about you?"

"Me?"

"Sure. Aren't you going to bet on yourself?"

"Neil. Do you see who I'm playing against. Half of the people in the field have already won a major. Not just a tournament, a major. I've never even PLAYED in a PGA tournament. Tom freakin' Watson is going to be playing, and it's like this course is God's gift to him. Did you know that the last time an amateur won a major was in 1933? That was 85 freakin' years ago. I'm surprised they are laying odds on me at all."

"Oh, my boy. We aren't bettin' the house. This isn't the lottery. This is you." Of course, he was still being his bombastic self. Finally, Edith came over and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Neil, for once in your life be serious and tell him what you really mean."

Neil looked really uncomfortable for a minute, then looked at her and then me. In what was, I swear to God, the lowest, softest voice that I had ever heard come out of his mouth he said, "Tim, look. I've known you forever. All of your family and friends are with you on this. If I were ever going to bet on one man to do something great, it would be you. So try to have the same amount of faith in yourself and your abilities as we do. OK? When you are out on the course this week, when you doubt yourself just look for us. You'll see that we don't have any doubt. Draw strength from that." It was the most genuine, sincere thing I'd ever heard him say to anyone. I'd be surprised if he was that calm during his marriage vows. Of course, then he blows it all off by saying, "And you'll never hear me speak like that again."