The Wager

Only a short time ago, Local Links considered the recent advent of PGA Tour endorsed gambling. On its own game! Yes, LL suggested, the chicken you just saw crossing the road is named Little, and the sky may very well be falling.

However, in the interest of rigorous honesty, with both journalistic and golf principles fully intact, we wish to revisit the general topic here in what might be thought of as a matter of full disclosure. LL has been known, on occasion, to have participated (ahem) in a wager. Or two.

Some of these wager(s) might best be characterized as friendly, others perhaps a chip shot or so less.

“I play with friends, but we don’t play friendly games.” – Ben Hogan

Games being what they are (play enhanced or perhaps defined by competition) it is unsurprising that golf, the greatest of games, inherently and beautifully marries the nuances of play with the equally compelling, if somewhat more obvious, thrills of competition.

And in the way of enhancing the spirit of completion, little can match the allure of Sunday mornings and “10 dollars five ways with automatics and two dollar junk”.

What was that, you say?

Oh, sorry.

For those who have only recently joined the game, or perhaps have wandered into the LL locker room accidentally, while reading about the outcome of the local high school spring baseball season, five ways, automatics, and junk are highly complex golf terms, a way of communicating with your friends now turned opponents that you are intent on taking serious money out of their golf bags before the day is through.

Betting on one’s own performance in golf is not by any means mandatory, but if you pull your knickers on like a gentleman (or, of course, gentlewoman) you probably are going to want to both demonstrate your confidence in your own abilities, as well as earn post-round bragging rights by engaging in a little wager.

But wagering is a bit like the occult, in that what you don’t know can hurt you badly, and most people cannot learn the makes and misses, the systems and strategies of the wager, without actually engaging in one. In this it is not dissimilar to a craps table in Vegas, where the field of play is also green, but the scenery less spectacular, and the air not quite so fresh.

Now there are individuals, or so I am told, who actually do not gamble when they play golf, and should you ever encounter such a person on the first tee, LL encourages you to be both nonjudgmental and polite, and not inquire as to what the person’s reasons for this odd behavior are. Similar to the gentlemanly reaction to another’s refusal of a post round libation, this situation calls for remembering the “two types of business ” rule. That would be “my business” and “none of my business.”

Golf, as we have noted, is life, and life is best lived when it’s a live and let live affair.

When it comes to wagering on your golf game, no one element, not even your ability to play the game, is as important as the negotiation that takes place on the first tee. In theory, your USGA handicap should resolve all discussion. In theory, you should break 80 on a regular basis. At the risk of being something less that gentlemanly, we might ask here “And how’s that working out for you?”

So, when you are asked, “What’s your number?” and you respond, “I’m a 12,” be prepared to hear your opponent say two things, the first being: “Come on! I’ve seen you play!” Thereby questioning not your entire moral character, but merely your score reporting history; and the other sounding something like this: “Yeah, well, I’m a nine but I’ve been playing like a 13 since June so why don’t we split the difference and I’ll give you one a side …”

This, as they say in hockey, indicates “Game On.”

There is a saying amongst self-help gurus specializing in the craft of building fortunes, (most notably and successfully for themselves, by dispensing advice for a price). They say: “You don’t get what you deserve, you get what you negotiate.”

Never having amassed a fortune, LL cannot attest to the veracity of this assertion, but can confidently assure you that many matches and wagers are won and lost before the first shot is struck.

The late PGA champion, later turned golf analyst, Dave Marr, is said to have advised: “Never bet with anyone you meet on the first tee who has a deep suntan, a 1-iron in his bag, and squinty eyes.” To which may be added: “or is too eager to give you the extra shot you say you need.”

The most dangerous character with whom to wager may not be the best player in your club, it’s the best negotiator.

Which brings us to that most dangerous character of all: the good negotiator who is also a good player.

Howie could fade a two iron, tend bar and talk to anybody. He’d bet on anything to do with sports, from the total number of goals in an obscure Division III college hockey game, to the run time of the national anthem at the Super Bowl. Howie had a massive brain capacity for anything sports, and could recall, among other things, your club selection on a particular golf shot you had struck in a match played three years ago, a shot you personally had long since forgotten.

And the damnedest thing was how often he was right. And he was never right more frequently than when he wagered on his own performance with a golf club. Howie could play three “indos,” a team match, a Nassau, and a closeout, giving different numbers to each opponent and his partner all while talking a blue streak between shots about everything from who has the best crossover move in the NBA to who’s the hardest thrower in the MLB, and still somehow never lose track of where a match stood.

But what made Howie really dangerous was he knew how many shots he could give, and rarely beat an opponent so badly they didn’t think they could beat him next time. I miss Howie, who has moved to warmer year-round climates; the land of retirees who have double digit handicaps and money enough, but who consider a two dollar Nassau “big money.”

I suspect Howie doesn’t much care; as much he liked a buck, what he really liked was the action.

A final word (that’s unlikely) here on golf, gaming and being a gentle-person, a brief reminder about etiquette: Gentlemen pay their wagers. Two dollars or two thousand, cash, check, or money order, pay and/or collect promptly.

Else wise, why wager?

Ball’s in the air at eight, don’t be late.