Above the fold

I Have Yet Another Story and A Moral Therof

The PGA Tour Championship from Pointe Vedra, FL started normally yesterday.  By mid-round, it was announced that today’s round and the next few week’s rounds on tour would be played sans fans.  By end of the round, the PGA announced that the tour was stopping the event and the next three events on the schedule.

Four years ago next month the third round of The Insperity Open, a senior tour event that passes right by the backyard of BBR’s World Headquarters, was almost played sans one fan.  That fan would be this writer.

A bright sunny Saturday was the perfect opportunity to mingle with friends and family quite near the seventh green.   Quiet for the players turned into more than a stir as six carts, two of them bright, shiny red ones, made their way from hole #8 past the green at #7 and continued down the fairway in the opposite direction of the norm.

And, there they were!  In one of the red carts were the former FLOTUS, Mrs. Barbara Bush, and her driver.  In the other were the former POTUS, George Herbert Walker Bush, and his driver.  They were on a unique meet and greet the pro players mission.  In the other four were a cadre of men, some riding fireman style on back, all wearing dark sunglasses.  Hmm.  Secret Service?

I was on a mission as well.  It’s but a 200-yard walk from there back to the “office.”  Mother Nature called and so did another cold beer (Corona? Nah! Too soon?). As I walked that way the six-pack of carts pulled to the side deep into the rough as tee shots were “fixin to fly.”  Unless you are a resident, it’s a dead side of the course-it has no path to the next or previous hole.

Their rest stop wasn’t but a mere 15 feet from my back gate.  And quite suddenly, there we were. It was a bunch of former and current government workers and me.  The Bush’s were seated in their carts and about six of my new sunglass-wearing best friends were rapidly approaching me.  “Put your hands up!”  And I did, quickly.  “I mean no harm, I live right there, and am just trying to get into my gate.”

A VERY long two seconds passed.  “Ok, go ahead.”  Relieved and a bit emboldened I inquired, “Could I please shake (today we would have to elbow bump, social distancing being what it is.) President Bush’s hand?”    “No!”  That was all.  It was a flat out  “No!”

Hmm.  I decided to wave instead.  Only George’s smile was wider than Barbara’s.  I also decided that entering the gate was now past due.  And, I figured an invite inside for a round of cold ones was out of the question.

By the time I got back outside they were down the fairway shaking hands with the pros.  Hmm.

The moral of the story, you ask?  I guess it’s who you know, or who the Secret Service says you get to know.

Still, it was great to inadvertently get that close to them, and even better that I remained a free man.