My Golf Story

The sport of golf is the source of many amusing stories but, since I don’t play golf, I only have one.  I never got around to playing golf, as I didn’t see the point.  I had an uncle who called it “cow pasture pool”.  I will however admit that golf is almost essential to get ahead in the corporate world.

This story takes place in the early 70’s when I had a brief stint with the Chevrolet Motor Division of General Motors.  I was hired into a branch zone office located in Miami.  My title was Sales Relations Representative.  I was a go-fer not a golfer.  My job description said that I was to mediate disputes between customers and dealerships which were related to the actual sale of the vehicle and not the vehicle warranty.  This latter duty had a whole team of people in the zone office.  My job, I would learn later, had only one other contemporary stationed in California.

The sales disputes were few and far between and did not represent any real need for a full time employee.  My actual job involved a more social function.  You see, whenever two or more executives in Detroit needed to have a meeting they would jump on the corporate jet and fly to Miami.  Even if their offices were next door to each other it would be destination Miami.  Anything to get out of Detroit.  Having since been to Detroit I now see why they would want to be in Miami.  It would then be my job to see that the corporate jet was met at the executive airport and that transportation was provided to their hotel.  I would also see that their rooms were stocked with enough booze to open up a retail chain of liquor stores.  Any excess you see would be loaded back to Detroit to stock home bars.

I would drive executives, and their wives on occasion, to go shopping, look for real estate for their retirements, to special meetings, etc.  On one weekend I had the privilege to drive Ed Cole and his wife around to do many of these things.  At this time Ed was the president of General Motors having worked his way up through the ranks as one of its top engineers.  He had worked on the Corvette, the Vega and the Corvair.  He was a down to earth individual and a refreshing change from the stuffed shirts I normally had to deal with at GM.

Chevrolet Corvair

Chevrolet would also host campaign payoffs for top dealerships across the nation.  One such campaign was held in Boca Raton, Florida at the Boca Raton Resort and Club.  It was just a coincidence that I had parked cars at this very same hotel when I went to college at Florida Atlantic University.  I took pleasure upon my arrival with tossing my keys to my old boss and telling him to take good care of my new Caprice.

Boca Raton Hotel

These campaign payoffs, in order to be eligible for a corporate tax write-off, had to involve some measure of business so no recreation was planned before noon.  At 12:01 however the bar was open, the tennis court pros were giving lessons, the charter boats would be pulling away from the docks and the tee off times would begin.  I had to make sure all of these events went off without a hitch.  I didn’t have to worry about the bar opening on time as the corporate guests were generally two deep by noon.  My biggest problem was the flow of the golf tee off times.  I therefore spent most of my time in and around the pro shop making sure things went well.  It was here I finally saw the real purpose of golf.  This was the part of golf that they didn’t teach me during my golf/tennis course in junior college.  I now saw the benefit in knocking a little white ball all over a large green field.  That benefit came in the large cooler mounted on the back of the electric golf carts.

Some of these coolers would hold beer and some would hold wine.  But one cart in particular didn’t play the game with the same “fuel”.  It was Harry’s cart.  Harry being one Harry Heathman, the vice president of marketing for Chevrolet.  Harry was a particularly unpleasant fellow who was exceptionally demanding.  Harry had to have stone crabs everywhere he went.  When he arrived in Miami he would be driven to Joe’s Stone Crab restaurant on Miami Beach for stone crabs.  When he fished he would have stone crabs on the boat.  When he ate dinner he would have stone crabs for an appetizer and would then substitute stone crabs for his main dish.  When he returned to Detroit he took two coolers of stone crabs with him.  At Joe’s one particular afternoon Harry was busy filling  his little round face with stone crabs.  He had his mouth literally stuffed full of crab meat, then his eyes closed and with butter dripping from his chin and down his neck he began making low moaning sounds.  My boss, also named Jack, remarked that it was the first time he had ever seen a man have a gastronomic orgasm.

Florida Stone Crab

So, as you might have already guessed, Harry had stone crabs in his golf cart cooler.  To wash it all down however Harry had discovered “cocktails in a can”.  These were alcoholic mixed drinks in an easy open can.  Harry had enough of these in his cooler to leave one empty can on each of the eighteen holes.

On this day an emergency call was transferred to the pro shop for Harry.  Harry was to have made a major decision before he left Detroit but in his haste to get to his beloved stone crabs he forgot this minor detail.  The deadline for the decision was fast approaching and they needed him on the phone immediately.  It fell to me to go find Harry somewhere out on the back nine and bring him to the pro shop.

I grabbed a golf cart and made my way out on the course.  I found Harry on the fairway approaching the fourteenth hole.  How he was able to stand up let alone play golf was beyond my comprehension. It defied several laws of physics and the law of gravity.  I literally poured him into my cart and drove him back to the pro shop.  I didn’t want him to try to walk into the shop so I went in and had them transfer the call to an outside line.  I then drove the cart close to the building so the cord would reach.  I handed the phone to Harry.

Harry listened to the problem as it was explained to him from Detroit.  He then turned to me and asked, “What is the World Football League?”  I quickly explained that it was scheduled to be a third football league with all new teams.  I told him that they were recruiting players from the existing leagues and hoped to form about ten new teams.  Harry then went back to his phone conversation, listening more than talking.  He then turned to me and said, “Should Chevrolet commit to sponsor this new league?”  I told him that the stability of this new league was in question and that while the initial ratings would probably be high the whole thing could quickly fall apart.  I told him that if he were to sponsor the league he should insist on a clause that would allow Chevrolet to pull the plug at any time.  Harry then returned to the phone and slurred that Chevrolet would initially sponsor the WFL but that he would insist on a clause that would get them out from under should the league start to have problems.  Now that’s how big corporate decisions are made, especially at GM. 

WFL Brought to you by Chevrolet

I hung up the phone and drove Harry back to his golf game.  He had missed a few holes so he probably had the best score of his life.

The Arab oil embargo hit, Chevrolet and all of GM had to tighten their belts.  They still flew to Miami for their meetings but jobs were being cut.  Mine was among them.  I was offered a job in Detroit but declined.  Probably one of my better decisions.  I got a job with Miami Dade County and eventually retired from there.  I wonder how those other employees faired with their retirements from GM.

I did however enjoy watching a few World Football League games that were brought to me by Chevrolet.  The WFL enjoyed a wide popularity at the beginning of the first year and then ratings began to sag.  The second year was their last.  The WFL also did damage to my Miami Dolphins when Csonka and Warfield left.  Chevrolet eventually pulled their sponsorship and I’m sure Harry congratulated himself on his foresight.  He probably had some stone crabs shipped up to Detroit.  Or better yet, he flew to Miami and went to Joe’s.  Austerity programs you see are only for the peons.

My last GM car was a 1981 Pontiac Grand Prix whose plastic parts all disintegrated and turned to dust in the Florida heat.  Someone at GM probably saved enough money buying inferior plastic to pay for all of the corporate booze and stone crabs they would ever need.  I now buy only Hondas and Toyotas.  As I write this GM stock is selling for about $20 a share.