Take Your Time and Think It Through…

I’m doing a category on the blog about my adventures on the golf course.  I go play with my man J-Full.  We’re both sufficiently not-really-good that we can play a leisurely, fun game while working toward improvement.  Makes for a leisurely afternoon.
Together, we’re NPG.  Cuz, uhhh…I like Prince.  Yeah.
Anyway, if you ever wanna have a long conversation with the ranger or starter on a golf course, come play with us.  We always seem to have someone down to help out with whatever we need.  One time, I lost my 5-iron and went riding back a few holes to find it.  Don’t you know a ranger was kind enough to ask what we were looking for, call the clubhouse to let ’em know to look out for it, AND follow us from hole to friggin’ hole making sure we didn’t miss a spot?  I mean, that kind of service should cost extra.
Or entitle me to a discount.
Yesterday, we met one of the more interesting characters of the golf world — Uncle Ruckus.  You know Uncle Ruckus from “The Boondocks.”  Well, he works at many golf courses.  At this course we went to, Uncle Ruckus goes by “Chief.”
We got to the tee box, and Uncle Ruckus checked our ticket.  We got on the first tee, and a middle-aged white couple came behind us.  I topped my tee shot, but recovered nicely with a 6-iron shot about 150 yards into the fairway.  J-Full mashed his drive, and we were on our way.
Til Uncle Ruckus wanted to make sure our golfing experience was optimized.  He came out to tell us that we should let the couple behind us play through.  We didn’t object.
If you don’t know, you let someone play through when they’re going faster than you.  Or, put differently, better than you.  We assumed that Uncle Ruckus knew the people behind us, and he knew they were good.
Negative.  They were worse than us.  We sat at the 2nd tee and watched them hack it up, looking like they’d be embarrassed to play with me and my man.  And, to be honest, we’re easily embarrassed.
OK, I’m easily embarrassed.
Anyway, after they passed us, a single player passed us again (BTW, you know your a radio show is catching on when you tell a guy he can play through, and he asks for a shoutout without even verifying that you have a radio show).  We let him go, we kept it moving, and we made it through the front nine.
We sucked, BTW.  Didn’t play fast at all, due to my epically bad first five holes.  Picked it up on the next four, and guess who we see on the 9th green as we tee off?
The jokers we were told to let pass through by Uncle Ruckus.  Played so fast that they got passed up by the cat behind us.  Right.
Guess they just looked like they’re good at golf.  And I look like I can teach you to dance.
Moving on, went to the clubhouse at the turn to re-up on balls (yeah, it was like that).  Guess who wanted to know what we were doing?
Ruckus, of course.  Never mind that people stop at the turn to buy food and stuff.  I ain’t even out of the cart, and dude’s coming with the hassles.
Ruckus: “What are you doing?”
Bo: “Getting more golf balls.”
Ruckus:  “Oh yeah, just go in there.”
In where, that building near where I parked my cart?  I mean, what I was gonna do without your help?  But what did I tell you?  Everyone just wants to make sure I have a good time.
Got deep into the rest of our round, and life was good.  ‘Til we got to the 15th, of course.  Guess who just decided to make a spin around the course?
Uncle Ruckus, of course.
“You guys need to speed up a little bit.  There are people behind you.”
Now, here’s the thing…according to some, I’m now a “local celebrity.”  That means that if there’s anyway I can avoid minimal drama, I will.  Unless there’s some serious extenuating circumstance, I’d like people that meet me in real life to walk away with a pleasant experience.  More than anything, you can’t win getting into a beef when someone knows you and you don’t know him.  The small cussouts I used to intermittently issue are no longer in my repertoire.  It’s handshakes and smiles and “good to meet you.”
So, if the ranger asks me to do something, I just do it.  I can’t let anything get ugly.  If I’m playing slow, I’ll pick it up.  I don’t have time to deal with “he thinks the rules don’t apply to him” and all that nonsense.  On this day, I even went so far as to drop instead of looking for a ball, and picking up a ball instead of putting out.  Making life easier for everyone.
So remember Uncle Ruckus telling us to speed it up?  That took us riiiiiiight into….a twosome on the next tee!  Even if we went faster, we’d get held up.  Wonder if Ruckus told them to speed up?  They sure didn’t act like it.
That’s so much, Ruckus.  I really needed that.
And yanno, this stuff never happens when I go play with white people.  I get left alone.  Nary problem.  But the NPG?  I just wanna know these things…
How am I gonna play fast getting hassled every three or four holes by the ranger or starter?
Who puts on slacks to cause trouble?
Hell, what trouble can I even start on a golf course?  Think I’m gonna climb a tree?
What’s there for me to steal?
Who am I gonna rob?
Why are you right behind me?
So do me a favor and send this post around to everyone that you know that runs a golf course.  Make sure they understand that the wrong person to come at on that nonsense is someone with a radio show and the leeway to say whatever he wants.
Long of the short — next course that tries me like this will get free advertising.  They’ll wish they hadn’t.
Cuz the NPG won’t be putting up with this stuff for long.
…cuz the next lines I write might be about you.  And involve the name of your business.  Dig?