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Authors: Dave Marshall

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The Sand Trap (17 page)

BOOK: The Sand Trap
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GO GIRL GO – FOR THE REST OF US!

There was even some guy with a long beard
dressed in a flowing kaftan who was proclaiming Melanie the Virgin
Mary and the second coming was soon upon us.

Melanie bitterly laughed to herself at that
one. The virgin part was not going to work.

The golf course and tournament officials
were trying to control the growing crowd. While there were rules
concerning crowd noise or anything else that could be distracting
to the golfers, signs were not in that category and anyone who had
bought a ticket could follow their favourite golfer. To all who
watched the golf that day it was clear it was not going to be a
usual day at the NCGA championships or at Cedar Grove.

Much to the crowd’s disappointment and
Rebecca’s and Coach’s concern, Melanie skipped the warm up and just
walked over to the first hole where her match would start.
Thankfully she and Chad were not matched up in this semifinal round
and he started on ten, so there was little chance that they would
cross paths in the morning. She was early to the tee box, so she
just sat on the bench and stared at the ground and ignored the
taunts and cheers from the crowd that had now followed her. When
her opponent, a tall lanky guy from Florida joined her on the tee,
she went over and shook his hand and genuinely apologized for the
circus. “I’m so sorry,” she offered. “I just want to play golf. I
have nothing to do with any of this.”

He sensed her genuineness and responded in
kind. “Don’t worry Melanie. Whatever happens, the sun is shining,
the wind is cooling, a perfect day on a golf course that will test
our skills. Let’s ignore them and go have some fun.”

Melanie wanted to hug him and her relief was
palpable. She was sensitive enough about being seen as a freak, but
now with the weird groups making her their
cause
célèbre
she was even more uncomfortable. He put her at ease
and despite the furor around them the match was one of the most
enjoyable she had ever had. She did win the match, although at the
time that would not have mattered. They were both superb golfers
and they battled hole by hole. As they walked up each hole they
shared their views of their schools and laughed at their respective
family stories and compared their golf aspirations. She learned
that he came from a very poor farm family in Alabama and he only
learned his golf as a caddy and hitting balls into his father's
fields with thrown away clubs. She laughed as he told her he only
had ten balls so he had to go and find them in the field after each
ten shots. His break had come when one of the wealthy members at
the club where he used to caddy asked him to play along one day
when he was caddying and the member saw some potential. His game
progressed to the point where he received a golf scholarship to
Florida State. Golf would be his way of helping his whole family
out of poverty one day.

Melanie easily described her life at the
Folly. How her mother left when she was four and her Dad built this
crazy golf course that no one could play. She was two up after the
seventeenth hole. She did not even remember how. She just hit and
putted and chatted and then the match was over.

“Melanie, it was a genuine pleasure to have
played with you today.” He offered his handshake as he conceded her
putt on seventeen. “All the best in wherever you go with your golf,
or your life. Maybe we’ll meet again sometime and I’ll have the
chance to even the score!”

Melanie suggested that would be great and
she would look forward to it, although she knew now that was very
unlikely. As soon as she left the safety of the green and fringe,
Rebecca and Coach took her arms and hustled her through the crowds
into the locker room of the clubhouse. As the only female in the
final match she had the room to herself and she was instantly
grateful for the silence and the peace.

“Why don’t you guys just leave me here? We
have an hour before the afternoon match. Rebecca can you can bring
me a sandwich here?”

Rebecca agreed and the two of them went out
to deal with the press and the others gathering for the afternoon
match, believing that an hour of quiet was the restful thing for
Melanie right now. Melanie sat on the change bench between double
rows of lockers and stared at the floor. She was there twenty
minutes later when Rebecca returned with an egg salad sandwich and
a coke.

“Hey. You OK?”

Melanie glanced at Rebecca and the
sandwich.

“So Chad won his match didn’t he?” It was
more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah. Five and four. He crushed the guy and
is outside letting the whole state know it.”

Melanie did not react except to go back to
staring at the floor.

“What is it about this guy Melanie? I know
you had a crush on him and I know you threw that final at the state
amateur. So what’s up? Are you going to throw this afternoon?”

“I’m a freak Rebecca. You know that by now.
I have a gift that I’ve used to play this game and for nothing
else. Now all it has done is cause trouble. For me, for other
players, for Coach and now for a whole bunch of causes that I don’t
even understand.”

She paused.

“It’s just a silly fucking game!” and she
started to cry.

Rebecca was not sure if she was more
surprised at the tears or the fact that she just heard Melanie
swear for the first time.

“Rebecca, I have met and played with some of
the nicest people I have ever met. New Hampshire asked me to marry
him.” They both laughed through the tears. “Florida? I wanted to
ask him to marry me!”

They laughed again.

“But each person out there with their own
cause has made this more than a game and I’ve only now realized
that was how it was for guys like Burt and Chad. For them it was
more than a game. It wasn’t beating me at golf. It was beating me
and whatever it looks like I represent. I didn’t realize that
before but now it all comes together and explains a lot.”

“Explains what? What does it explain? I
don’t understand?”

Melanie did not answer right away, but she
turned to Rebecca and with a very confident smile announced. “I am
just a country girl from Bumstead, Saskatchewan. I only play golf.
I can't do anything else. Give me a few moments to get something to
eat and refreshed and I’ll meet you at the first tee.”

Melanie gave Rebecca a hug.

“Thanks for what you have done for me
Rebecca. I love you.”

And Melanie got up and walked into the
washroom.

In later years Rebecca would go over that
conversation many times and realize that if she were not so caught
up in the moment of competition she would have noticed the pattern
in Melanie’s comments and questions. But instead she went out to
the first tee area to deal with the press and wait for the start of
the final match.

Chad and his entourage were already waiting
at the tee box even though the tee off time was still fifteen
minutes away. Rebecca noticed that he and Frank were having some
sort of argument and Frank dropped Chad’s clubs to the ground and
walked away, clearly angry and upset. One of Chad’s old high school
friends came out of the crowd and after a big high five picked up
Chad’s clubs. Rebecca deduced that this was not a spontaneous
decision, but she felt it was no concern of hers.

Coach walked nervously back and forth
between the two caddies, making sure that they both knew the rules
although both caddies were experienced at the bag and the play. The
NCGA official was waiting for the match time nervously fingering
the coin that would determine the tee off sequence. The crowd was
held well back from the tee box and while still waiving various
signs, was mostly quiet since they knew noise would risk them being
thrown off the course. The afternoon was a perfect California fall
day, blue skies, gentle breeze and moderate temperature.

They were all waiting for Melanie to join
them and they were soon rewarded for their wait. A buzz in the
crowd told those gathered on the tee box that she was coming, but
did not warn them of the Melanie that was on her way through the
crowd making her way to the box. The women's golf attire and makeup
were gone and in their place were old-fashioned men’s madras pants.
A too large golf shirt with the logo of a Saskatoon grain elevator
topped the pants and on her head was the baseball cap with the
frayed brim and the faded word
Bumstead
stenciled on the
top. Everyone in the crowd not from Clapshorn simply stared.
Rebecca and the coach groaned. These were the clothes they had
convinced her to abandon a year ago. Chad and his new caddie openly
laughed.

Melanie sauntered nonchalantly up to the tee
box, apparently quite oblivious to the stares and whispers. She
went straight to Chad. “Hi Chad.” She greeted him warmly, reaching
up to give him a peck on the cheek. “What a great fall day for
golf! I hope you enjoy the course.”

He held her tight as she brought her face
near his and with a smile on his face he whispered into her ear. “I
know what you did to Burt, bitch. Won’t work on me.” Melanie gave
him a puzzled look as if she did not have a clue as to what he was
referring to. He let her move away from him and with a smile
announced that it was indeed a great day. “Let’s play!”

Chad won the coin toss and went first. He
hit his drive only slightly down the right side of the fairly
straight away longish 400-yard par four.

Melanie went over to Rebecca and refused the
driver and instead took the 5-iron out of her bag.

“What are you doing? You need a driver
here?”

“No Rebecca, I hit a 5-iron on the first
hole.”

Melanie put in her tee, placed the ball and
in an unusual fashion for her, paused and looked out over the
fairway. The first hole at the Folly was one of her favourites. The
hole was relatively straight forward, but the combination of the
rolling wheat fields and the endless horizon beyond the green gave
her a tremendous sense of freedom and well being. The tee shot was
tricky she knew. It had to be 210 yards, not much more, not much
less, or she would be in the cornfield looking for her ball. She
stood up to the ball and with no more thought or practice swing hit
a perfect 5- iron that landed within a yard or two or where she was
aiming.

“Perfect,” she said to Rebecca as she gave
her back the club.

“Whatever you say Melanie,” Rebecca quipped.
But with Chad only 120 yards straight in to the green and Melanie
facing a tough 185 yards she was not sure what Melanie was
seeing.

As they walked to the ball, Melanie
explained.

“You can see that if I had hit it any
further I would be in the wheat field and have to take a penalty.
From here a slightly fading 6-iron will get me to the middle of the
green.”

And she did just that. A beautiful, high
slightly fading 6-iron landed twenty yards from the hole and ended
up only three yards from the hole.

“See," she admonished Rebecca as they walked
to the green. “It’s not hard if you know the course!”

Chad matched her shot and her putt and they
went to two all square.

The second hole at Cedar was a par-three,
180 yards into a slight breeze with the pin tucked into the back
left side of the green and protected by a deep bunker in front.
When they arrived at the hole and saw it was a par-three, Melanie
was confused for a moment. “Dad must have moved the holes around
while I was away. This is normally a four?” She questioned herself.
“No matter, it’s still the same hole.”

Chad hit a perfect shot to the middle of the
green and Melanie congratulated him. “Great shot!” she announced.
“Most first timers here can't do that so well! But watch this.”

This time she took an 8-iron and lofted it
into the slight right to left breeze and with her draw spin brought
the ball down twenty yards in front of the green. It bounced hard
and rolled two yards past the pin.

The crowd following the match gave a cheer
and applause. Melanie was momentarily confused by the reaction. She
turned and saw Texas, New Hampshire and Florida all standing at the
front of the crowd.

“Way 'ta' go Melanie!” they shouted as they
applauded.

She was visibly pleased and commented to
Rebecca that it was really nice that those boys could make it all
the way here today.

Melanie was clearly enjoying herself
although to those watching she was doing some strange things. Once,
after a visible argument with Rebecca where Melanie kept insisting
that she had to hit the landing area, she hit a 7-iron from the tee
on a par five and still birdied the hole. On another par-four
Melanie insisted that she had to hit a 250-yard drive in order to
clear the water when there was no water on the hole at all. She put
the ball on the green with her tee shot. Her golf was superb, so
far half pars and birdies, and her spirits were high and confident.
She was cheerful and friendly and once she accepted there was a
gallery that day she chatted with them as she walked down the
course. But by the seventh hole Rebecca was acutely aware there was
something wrong.

“How do you like the prairie fall?” She
asked one puzzled parent. “Nice eh?”

“Be careful not to trample my dad’s wheat.
He gets real upset with golfers who do that!” she joked with
another.

And to Chad she was not only friendly but
also helpful.

“Watch this next green,” she helpfully told
him on six. “You can't really see it but it slopes naturally
towards the river.”

Chad just glowered and walked faster to get
away from her.

At the end of the front nine they were still
all square. Both had played fabulous golf and had matched each
other birdie for birdie and par for par. Chad had played the course
perfectly so far, with well coached club selection and wise shots
to tough pin placements.

BOOK: The Sand Trap
5.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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