It's Elementary

I really like Sherlock Holmes. Read all the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle stories growing up. Loved Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce's film interpretation of the Holmes-Dr. Watson team, though it hardly resembled the original manuscripts. 

I've been fascinated by some of the modern takes on the crime stopper and his sidekick, including a new one on CBS, Elementary. Too bad I really don't have enough time to diligently watch Elementary. Interesting twist having a woman play Watson. But what personalized it for me was Aidan Quinn in the role of a police detective tied to Holmes. I played a half round of golf with Quinn six years ago.

I'm not a golfer by any stretch of the imagination, but one of my magazine’s conference supporters, Morgan Stanley, sponsored a charity event and extended an invitation. The hook was the chance to meet several NY Giants players and coaches, including Eli Manning and Tom Coughlin, as well as athletes from other teams and WNBC-TV sportscaster Bruce Beck. This was the summer before the Giants won the Super Bowl against the 18-0  New England Patriots. 

Eli was not yet a proven star quarterback. He was a lot taller and fuller than I expected. I didn’t realize he was 6’4”. Coughlin was taller as well, 6’2”. He's usually bent over on the sidelines when seen on TV. Retired Pittsburgh Steeler Jerome Bettis was enormous, easily deserving of his nickname “The Bus.” Beck, on the other hand, was tiny, in the mold of Bob Costas but with broader shoulders.

Anyway, as a member of the host country club in Rockland County, Quinn was assigned to my foursome. He served as a guide and semi-official host. I told him my favorite film of his was Avalon. For nine holes he chewed on a cigar and played with us. He left us right before I drove one of my better tee shots a good 150 yards, right, that is left, into the pond guarding the par-three green. By that time I had stopped counting strokes. When asked how good a golfer I am I always say I generally hit par, as long as par is about 135.  I’m good for at least that many strokes and at least five or six lost balls per round. How anyone can find this game relaxing and enjoyable is beyond me. The game is far from elementary.

Golfers, Beware

Warning to my golfer friends—you’re no longer safe on the links. I have been licensed to play without fear of penalty or lawsuit.

The New York State Court of Appeals, like other state courts, has ruled a duffer is not liable if his shot strikes someone not in their intended path. Since my balls never go where I want them to, I am free to hit and maim anyone out for a peaceful, uneventful round of golf. I don’t even have to sound silly and scream out “fore” before stroking the ball (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/22/sports/golf/22golf.html?_r=1&src=me&ref=general).

Golf has never been one of my passions. During high school and college I played a few rounds at the pitch and putt course at Riis Park in Belle Harbor, Queens. After my marriage, my Uncle Harry gave me one of his old sets of clubs, but I never really used them until Dan was born. While Gilda shared play dates with two of Dan’s toddler friends’ mothers, I would hook up most Fridays with the fathers for a round at the local public course.

None of us were good, which meant 18 holes took nearly six hours to complete, a long time to leave our young families alone. It didn’t help matters that while Dave, Rudy and I were swinging through the brush on most holes, only Dave and I were recording anywhere near actual stroke counts. I’d come out of the rough proud of my "six," Dave would say five and together we’d be bewildered to hear Rudy claim a three—and he was an accountant by trade! Dave and I shortly agreed it was more fun to share times with our kids and wives. We rarely saw Rudy after that.

About 20 summers ago my company ran an employee golf outing. I have two vivid memories of that day. First, I made a huge mistake wearing shorts as the mosquitoes attacked in force. Second, my sliced tee shot off the first hole almost boinged a fellow publisher standing roughly 85 degrees to my right. Fortunately, she didn’t see the ball whiz by her head, though her staff was disappointed I missed her as they did not like her at all.

I avoided further mishaps on the golf course by staying away, but got roped into playing at the Grand Geneva Resort & Spa, once known as the Playboy Club & Resort, Lake Geneva, Wis. In 1999, my magazine co-produced a retail conference for Siemens Nixdorf (SN). The meeting at the hotel ended with a golf tournament. Though I begged off playing, SN’s national sales manager insisted I join his foursome. We’d be playing a scramble format, requiring each player to be be responsible for at least one shot per hole.

Now, golf is said to be a great sport for bonding, for building up relationships and business contacts. I recently heard Jack Stephens of The Stephens Group, a company that was an early bankroller of Wal-Mart, say, “Golf lets you observe and size up somebody over 4–4-1/2 hours.” Well, in the course of those hours, Siemens Nixdorf went from being a $100,000 annual account to dropping all contact with us for the next 10 years. My only explanation is that SN’s national sales manager did not take kindly to losing his own tournament because I could not hit a decent shot all afternoon. We finally won back some business a few years ago, but only after he left the company.

The last time I golfed it was also at the request of an account, Morgan Stanley, at a charity tournament it ran in Rockland County in 2007. My foursome included two of my magazine associates along with the actor Aidan Quinn (really nice guy). The tournament attracted several NY Football Giants players and coaches including Eli Manning (taller than he appears on camera) and was emceed by WNBC-NY sportscaster Bruce Beck (shorter than he seems on TV). The Giants went on to win the Super Bowl that upcoming season.

Perhaps now that it’s safe for me to play golf again the Giants will go on to another Super Bowl victory.