The Waverly Newsletter

Greenwich, CT
Volume XVII Summer 2001

Details for the 2001 Waverly Invitational

Here are a few of the details that you need to know for the upcoming Waverly tournament.

Spikeless shoes are required on all courses (soft spikes).

The following are not considered to be proper dress:

Speedo swimming attire Shirts without Metalica logos Blue jeans with a chain wallet
UNC gym shorts Shorts cut off so high your underwear, pockets, or scrodum are exposed

Your balance is due upon arrival: No post dated third party checks.

Rookie rule regarding winning is in effect.

Calcutta bidding will take place sometime before Thursday’s 1st round.

Other facilities include a Lighted driving range & putting green, pool, sauna, whirlpool & weight room.

Six pack coolers are allowed on course. Plans call for a group meal at the villas one night, the Butcher at the grill.

Villas have been reserved and your package includes the tournament fee, accommodations and breakfast, green fees,
golf cart, range balls, and a possible 1-hour open bar reception on Friday.

If rooms are available they’ll let us check in prior to our practice round - the official check in time is 4:00 p.m.

Here is the schedule of our playing times:

Round Holes Tee Time Courses Par Yardage Slope Rating
Wed Practice 18 TBA Byrd 72 6,263 126 70.3
Thur First 18 1:30 p.m. Jones 72 6,334 126 70.4
Fri Second 18/9 8:00 a.m. Maple 72 6,332 117 71.9
Sat Third 18/9 8:00 a.m.
Sun The Finale 18 8:30 a.m.

News, Notes and Dirt

A few thoughts during a slow day at the office ……. You know the Waverly has gone upscale when the New York
Strip Steaks are flown in fresh ……. “Never up, never in.” ……. What ever happened to Joe Pisarcik? ……. Time
may be a great healer, but it’s also a lousy beautician ……. If voting could really change things, it would be illegal
……. Never raise your hands to your kids, it leaves your groin unprotected ……. I do believe, with three rookies in
the field, Glenn’s alcohol beverage consumption record at the 99 Waverly could be in play ……. There are two ways
to approach a woman with an argument, neither one of them works ……. If God wanted me to touch my toes, he
would have put them on my knees ……. It is better to keep your mouth shut and be thought an idiot than to speak up
and remove all doubt ……. Over the past year, The Butcher has been seen in clubhouses across Long Island saying,
“Who wants a shot at the title?” ……. Remind me to tell you the story about Scott Hoch and the 10-wood.

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They Said It
“Always through your clubs ahead of you. That way you don’t have to waste energy going back to pick them up.” –
Tommy Bolt

A Movable Party
Your sob story may be entirely different. For you, it may be the dreaded chili dipper. In my case, it’s the sand wedge.
Drop me in any kind of bunker and there soon emerges a violent sirocco of flying sand, blistering language and
perhaps even a loose golf ball. Among epic tragedies, the story of my sand play is almost unrivaled. Yet it was not a
burden to think of it the other day as I stood on the station platform in the pouring rain, listening to the announcement
that flooding had crossed the Bronx and halted all trains. I found myself thinking, “Where is that gnarly Ben Hogan
Signature sand wedge I once bought out of a barrel?” It provided me with one of the most intriguing shots of my life.
(Ninety yards, over a pine tree, to two inches from the cup, while playing at Flatbush Muni with no less than Ray
Leonardo, the defending Waverly champion, who said, “Nice shot there,” while I had to think, “Jeez, doesn’t every-
body hole out their wedges against this guy?” He went onto an 82, barely squeaking past me by a slim, 22-shot
margin.)

It is our lot, we golfers, to unfold these memories from the mind’s wallet while waiting for traffic to clear. Sitting in a
grimly lit meeting room, breathing recycled air, we look up past the big rainmaker’s shoulder and see a well-struck 4-
iron racing toward some imagined flag. In ancient Persia, legend tells us, princes had their own, elegant way of
playing chess: in the mind, without a board. It sounds like a bulging headache, but haven’t you ever attempted to cure
insomnia by painstakingly re-creating a round on the course you played as a kid? Just as chess players see squares in
their sleep, we see courses.

From this obsession comes the urge to fly away to some ravishing new golf destination. When golfers talk, they don’t
just speak of the game’s whimsical catastrophes, but of the sheer larkiness of it all. For such a tough game, it really is
just a long-running party. In Myrtle Beach, golf is certainly a party, and that’s why we turn Tom Courtenay loose on
the town. When he is not producing space vehicle for Lockheed or recording with his band, the Has Beens, Tom, a
freewheeling Keriouac of the fairways, plies the PA. munis. To check into the Texas’s party scene (as well as its
fishing and golf), we send out Rick Hakes, author of the moving book Final Relocation, a father-son tale that may be
headed for the big screen. And Rudy’s “The Best 52 Reasons to Own a Strip Joint’ is nothing but a pile of reasons to
have fun. By all means, write us a letter sometime and tell us where the golf fever is pulling you. Fire us a dispatch at
pengl26683@aolcom, or visit our Web site, www.thewaverly.com. And if your luck holds, you won’t hear another
word about my sand wedge.

Waverly Portfolio
Recommended Buy Price 08/17/00 Profit Comments
IBM Summer 1995 $23 ½ $104 ½ 345% A 3 ½bagger in 5 years
Lockheed Martin Summer 1995 $29 ¾ $39 ¼ 34% Now doing OK
Ingersoll Rand Summer 1997 $41 2/3 $40 ½ 0% Hold
Dell Spring 2000 $50 $23 -54% Tech correction
McDonalds Winter 1997 $21 ¾ $30 38% Good for long term
Paychex Winter 1997 $13 3/4 $38 176% A 2 bagger in 3 years
Berkshire Hathaway B Winter 1998 $1860 $2307 24% Hold
Nike Winter 1998 $43 7/8 $49 11% Hold for now.

The first four holdings represent the “employment sector” of the Waverly Port, the remainder are the manager’s own
recommendations. Here at the Waverly Port we eat our own cooking (hence we look like we do). The manager has
purchased Dell most recently as we now have a man on the inside there. Overall the Waverly Port has performed
admirably since 1995, even with the slow downs in defense, insurance, and tech. The portfolio manager sold his stake
in Nike and is considering a couple of alternative securities, namely Costco and Wal-Mart.
(All stock prices adjusted for splits. Prices courtesy of www.bigcharts.com)

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Trivia
Consider yourself a golf trivia expert if you know the character names and the actors and actresses, first and last, in
Caddyshack.

Guilty Pleasures – Despite its elitism, pomposity and exceedingly ugly clothing, golf is impossible to resist
I don’t know what a stimpmeter looks like, or the proper way to measure my stimp, or how to tell bentgrass from
bermuda from bahia, or Bob May from Bob Tway from Brad Paxon from Jocy Maxon. But I do know what I like, and
I like golf. Thank goodness, because golf is unavoidable. Gaze down from any airplane, and you’ll see—green with
chemicals, groomed by rakes, and visible from space—touring pro John Daly. You’ll also see lots of golf courses.

I hate myself for loving golf, so I play it with guilt, which begins at the bag drop, where an attendant (he’s either eight
or 87) humps my clubs to a cart. What could look worse than letting Methuselah labor beneath the leviathan weight of
your Rodney-in Caddyshack bag? Answer: not letting him. “He’d carry a steamer trunk up the stairs,” a writer once
said of skinflint baseball skipper Jeff Torborg, “to save a two-dollar tip to a bellhop?’ So I grease the geezer and feel
even worse, as ill were puffing a five-spot in my grandpa’s birthday card.

Country clubs compound my guilt, filled as they are with all manner of manservants: lawn mowers, locker attenders,
lob wedge polishers. (Ball washer, I was relieved to learn, is a mechanical device and not, like dishwasher, an
undignified job description.) All are there to assist me in some way, though my average score resembles a near fatal
fever. So I sprint through the clubhouse after every round, maniacally throwing dollar bills from a grocery sack, like
Rip Taylor tossing confetti.

That does little to alleviate the guilt, because golf is institutionally elitist and economically exclusionary with an
abysmal record of racism. (Until a few years ago the only black golfer known to most Americans was O.J. Simpson.)
There is much else to dislike about the game—golf jokes, golf shirts and golf books, which continue to spread like the
grass diseases that doom golf courses: red thread (Laetisaria ftucifonnis), brown patch (Rhizoetonia solam) and gray
leaf spot (lyricularia grisea). Did I mention golf bores Watercooleris longwindea), who endlessly rehash their rounds
in the office and take an unwholesome interest in agronomy?

Televised golf leaves me further embarrassed to be a golf fan, at least during the soft-focus “essays” - set to a tinkling
piano - that always include the same purple phrases in voiceover: the “gentle undulations” of a “softly sloping green”
framed by “aromatic azaleas” and “whispering pines” stirred by “soft ocean breezes” and the “sweet caress of a six-
iron and Yes I said yes I will Yes!

Sorry. Where were we? Oh, right: I love golf in spite of its many pretensions, and I’d happily eat my Ben Hogan
Apex Edge undercut cavity-back forged four-iron if only I could golf without being a golfer. Because the game itself
is full of simple pleasures. I love pla nting the flagstick after pulling out, as if I’ve just landed on Iwo Jima. I love
seeing my footprints on a dew-soaked green: They look like an Arthur Murray dance chart for something called the
Four-Putt. I love the names they give bunkers in Scotland: Heaved Haggis, Barrister’s Bottom, the Vicar’s Knickers,
etc.

I love to play a horrible round on a Mojave-hot day and see (through a heat haze) the beer cart appear over a rise in the
rough, like the cavalry come to my rescue. I love golf gadgets and will buy anything advertised on a golf infomercial.
A few years ago Luis Gonzalez, now of the Arizona Diamondbacks, described to me the new driver he had purchased
at two in the morning while watching such an infomercial. “It has holes in the head!” he said. “It whistles like a train
when you swing it!” But how exactly does the club help you? an eavesdropper asked. Slowly, as if speaking to a
child, Gonzo replied, “It whistles like a train when you swing it!”

Perhaps my head has holes in it, but I understood completely. Because nothing is more satisfying in all of sports—and
thus there is no greater pursuit—than the perfectly struck drive. “You know,” a friend of mine remarked last week, “I
can hit a seven-iron farther than Mark McGwire can hit a baseball? He’s right. A prodigious 500-foot homer is an
easy 167-yard eight-iron; likewise, a 340-yard drive is almost twice the length of the longest home run ever hit. When

Waverly Newsletter 3
it comes to the primordial pleasure of propelling an object as far as possible, you (an average, amateur, weekend
golfer) are McGwire and Mantle rolled into one.

So I’ll live with the guilt. Because while I’m cutting smiles into range balls, they’re doing exactly the same to me
(Printed with permission from Steve Rushin – Sports Illustrated)

Next edition of The Waverly Newsletter: Fall 2001.

Trivia answer:

Chevy Chase .... Ty Webb Rodney Dangerfield .... Al Czervik

Ted Knight .... Judge Smails
Bill Murray .... Carl Spackler, Assistant Greenskeeper
Scott Colomby .... Tony D'Annunzio
Dan Resin .... Dr. Beeper
Elaine Aiken .... Mrs. Noonan
Ann Ryerson .... Grace
Hamilton Mitchell .... Motormouth
John F. Barmon Jr. .... Spaulding Smails
Brian McConnachie .... Scott
Ann Crilly .... Suki
Scott Sudden .... Richard Richards
Thomas A. Carlin .... Sandy McFiddish, Head Greenskeeper
Kenneth Burritt .... Mr. Havercamp
Bobbie Kosstrin .... Noble Noyes
Anna Upstrom .... Blonde Bombshell
Patricia Wilcox .... Nancy Noonan
Tony Gulliver .... Ray - Old Caddy
Lori Lowe .... Pre-Deb
Mark Chiriboga .... Terry the Hippy
Frank Schuller .... Charlie the Cook
Marge McKenna .... Lady on Boat
Dennis McCormack .... Dennis Noonan
Judy Arman .... Beeper's Girlfriend
Paige Coffman .... Little Girl at Pool
James Hotchkiss .... Old Crony
Michael O'Keefe .... Danny Noonan
Sarah Holcomb .... Maggie O'Hooligan
Cindy Morgan .... Lacey Underall
Henry Wilcoxon .... The Bishop (Fred Pickering)
Albert Salmi .... Mr. Noonan
Brian Doyle-Murray .... Lou Loomis
Peter Berkrot .... Angie D'Annunzio
Lois Kibbee .... Mrs. Smails
Tony Santini .... Gatsby (as Scott Powell)
Cordis Heard .... Wally
Jackie Davis .... Smoke (Porterhouse)
Minerva Scelza .... Joey D'Annunzio
Rebecca Burritt .... Mrs. Havercamp
Scott Jackson .... Chuck Schick, Smails' Law Clerk
Ron Frank .... Pat Noonan
Debi Frank .... Kathleen Noonan
Kim Bordeaux .... Pre-Deb
Marcus Breece .... Lifeguard
Fred Buch .... Angry Husband
Mel Pape .... Butler
Bruce McLaughlin .... Old Crony
Violet Ramis .... Noonan Child
Dr. Dow .... Mr. Wang
Donna M. Wiggin .... Woman at Pool

Waverly Newsletter 4