#4: The Amazing Putter Throw

One of the years we had this high powered malpractice attorney who we all affectionately called Raybo. He was a pretty good stick carrying a 10 to 12 handicap, who could not get any of his fellow attorneys to play golf with him, nor would any of the doctors play golf with him as well. I believe the other attorneys were jealous of Raybo’s success, plus as he explained to me, “most of these attorneys think and believe way too much about themselves and their abilities.”  He had no problem in telling his fellow attorneys that most of them were full of utter and complete bullshit, hence, they did not like him.

The doctors on the other hand did not care for Raybo because he would sue the hell out of them for any malpractice suits that were brought before him to handle and he was very good at his profession. I really liked the guy because he was so down to earth, not letting his success go to his head. He would also speak his mind by telling you exactly just how it was and how he felt on any given subject.

I invited Raybo to several of these golf trips, even though most of the doctors really did not enjoy his company, but I did, and since I was the trips’ chairman and coordinator, I could and would invite anyone.

Raybo got seriously ill with the flu on one of these golf trips on the very first day that we arrived in Myrtle Beach and therefore, could not play a single round of golf. So he just slept and threw up in the condo for five days straight, never leaving the condo to enjoy the wonderful world of golf. At that time we had three doctors on the same golf trip; all who refused to give any medical assistance to Raybo. Their reasoning was that they were not licensed to practice medicine in South Carolina and therefore, could not and more importantly, would not treat him. As the doctors would say, “He, who lives by the sword, also dies by the sword.”

The reason I bring up all this background was because earlier that golf season I had purchased the new David Pelz three ball putter because my putting was just terrible at that time. I was consistently missing 2 to 3 foot putts on a regular basis. Pelz’s new three ball putter was the prelude to the current Odyssey two ball and three ball putters that are currently on the market. The big difference between the original David Pelz putter and the Odyssey putters, was that it was completely made out of plastic.  That is, all three golf balls behind the blade and the blade itself are all plastic.

I purchased this putter for $95 at some discount golf outlet. All of the fellows that golf season made absolute fun of this goofy looking putter because of the three golf balls behind the blade and because it was all made out of cheap plastic. Realize that at that time there was no other putter that had that look or design. David Pelz was the original innovator of that style of putter; at least I think he was.

This goofy (and to me very stylish) putter helped my putting tremendously. I was now holing out not only 2 to 3 foot putts, but also I started sinking 8 to 10 footers as well, on a very regular basis. For me this was one great golf club invention that I was making some money with, on a weekly basis with the games we played.

We drove to St. Louis to play a round at the Normandy golf club before flying to Myrtle Beach in late September. One of the fellows, Dr. Chris, who is also known as Doc Botox, Dr. 61614, and Dr. Nip & Tuck, was looking around the pro shop to kill some time prior to our first tee time. He then noticed in the corner of the pro shop was a round container of old used golf clubs and what does he spot, but none other than the same David Pelz three ball putter that I have. He asked the pro how much does the putter cost and the pro told him, “10 bucks and it’s yours.”

Chris asked him if the putter was new or used and why he was selling it for only $10. The pro told him that the putter was brand-new and that there was not one thing wrong with it, except for the fact that not one of the golfers who came through his pro shop that season would buy it. “Hell”, he said, “the damn thing is plastic!”

The good doctor decided that for $10 he was going to purchase it. Then he would somehow pimp me with only the second Pelz putter in the free world that was sold that year, hell, maybe even that decade.

The group completely hides this new found putter from me on the golf trip. They all had decided that at some point in time they were going to break this putter in half or throw it into a lake to freak me out and that Raybo was the one to do it, since that would be more in tune with his nature. By now he’s in the condo completely puking his guts out, so someone else has to fill in for him.

We were playing the Heritage Golf Club down around Pawley’s Island in south Myrtle Beach. My playing partner was Dr. Chris with the game being a two-man better ball of partner’s tournament and it’s the very first of three rounds. Chris is a single digit handicapper carrying, a five handicap and was playing exceptionally well at the Heritage. I am playing to a 12 handicap and I’m having a lot of problems on the course that day, especially with my short game which was terrible that day.

There are 12 of us on this golf trip, with a threesome and two foursomes at the Heritage Golf Club, because Raybo was still back in the condo in total misery. Dr. Chris and I are in the very last group. We get up to the 13th tee box at Heritage, a par three, a 200 yard hole from the blue tees, surrounded by water on three sides of the green, with the bail out area left of the green. Standing around the green are the other seven players in our group watching our approach shots to this difficult par three. I didn’t think anything of this at the time, because in the past we would watch each group’s approach shots too difficult par three’s, just to see how everyone was doing.

I teed off first with my five wood, hitting a very good high tee shot, but happened to pull it left of the green to the bail out area, about 20 yards from the edge of the green, but safe. Chris on the other hand hit his four or five iron stiff to the pin, about 8 to 10 feet right of the flag towards the water side. As we got out of the golf cart Chris said to me, “Give me your putter and I’ll take it to the green for you, remember keep your head down and hit a firm crisp pitch shot to the flag.”

Needless to say with all 9 of my buddies standing around the green, the pressure got to me and I preceded to chili dip the shot halfway to the green. Chris now yells at me, “Hit a better shot to the flag and don’t screw up.” There was so much pressure that I chunked it again, now Chris who is only 5 feet 10 inches tall, weighing maybe 160 pounds soaking wet screams at me again saying, “I’ve been carrying your ass all day long and you cannot even chip it 20 yards without screwing up, so this is what I think of your golf game”. He proceeded to take my putter, which I gave him to take to the green for me, winding up, hurls it deep into the middle of the lake surrounding the green.

All this appears to be in super slow motion as I watched my David Pelz three ball plastic putter go whirly birding through the air to such great heights, that it finally came down with a huge splash in the middle of the lake, some 60 yards from the shore. I am absolutely stunned. I now have no putter for the rest of the golf trip and my playing partner has this Cheshire look on his face. I looked at him in complete disbelief, slowly I started to walk towards him thinking that I’m going to grab the little shit and toss him into the lake close to where my putter landed. I started to pick up my pace and headed straight towards him, as he started to backpedal away from me. The pace soon becomes a chase around the green with me yelling at him, “You’re going into that f–king lake after my putter, you little shit!”

The other 9 players all standing around the green said that I looked like Robert Deniro in “Raging Bull” and had that look like I was going to kill Chris and they were absolutely correct. Three of them finally tackled me, holding me down as they tried to tell me that this was all a big joke and that my putter was not in the lake.

I looked at them from the ground and said, “What the hell are you guys talking about? Did you not see it fly through the air splashing down right over there?” pointing to the middle of the lake. At that point Chris pulled out my original putter from under a golf towel to show me that it really was not in the middle of the lake. So the guys did successfully pimp me and it worked.

As an after thought when we got back to Peoria, I thought how neat it would be to have two David Pelz plastic putters. I then called the pro shop at the Heritage Club, told the head pro that I mistakenly dropped my putter into their lake describing exactly where I thought they would find it, when they sent down their divers to clear out all those golf balls that find their way into the water, and if they would be so kind as to just give me a call, I would pay for the shipping and handling to send it back to me in Peoria.

Needless to say, they never called me. You would think that since it was made out of plastic that the damn thing would just have floated, but it sank faster than a nuclear sub.

I still have my original David Pelz three ball plastic putter downstairs in my old golf club bag. Maybe, I should bring it back out again to improve on my putting? Only this time I’ll make sure that Dr. Chris is no where around.