David and I played in a golf tournament last weekend. It was the second time we played in “The Prestige” at Tullymore. We competed in a series of five nine-hole matches over two and a half days. There were seven groups of six teams. They all had fancy names. Ours’ was the Royal Saint Georges Flight. The flights were determined by the combined handicaps of the two-man teams. The lowest team handicap was 6.6 and the highest was 48.1. We were 31.8. Most of it was mine.
Eighty-four men competed. David had the 13th lowest handicap. I was number 80. It’s not a point of pride. It’s just a fact of life. Fortunately, I played the best I have in over two years. We finished second in our flight.
Our flight had a team with two Franks. They were hot when we played them. One had an 18.9 handicap and shot thirty-eight. The second Frank shot an even parr 36 with a handicap of 13.6. If we would have beaten them by the same margin we beat the other teams, we would have finished first. Instead, we were second. Some call “second”, “first loser”.
While the golf was great, the highlight of the weekend was the awards dinner. We didn’t receive anything, but I had a wonderful “plus one” at my side. Last year, Ruth, David and I went to the dinner, and no one sat with us. We were rookie attendees and didn’t know what the protocol was. A couple of people came over to say “hello”, but no one sat with us.
When I returned to Michigan in May, I stopped in to see the golf director. I asked if I could make a couple of suggestions. I don’t know if he listened to be polite or was truly interested. I told him that Ruth and I enjoyed the club but had to learn the ropes the hard way. No one took us under their wing to help us make connections. We muddled through by trial and error. We didn’t make any real friends until the end of last season and, like most of the time, Ruth took the lead in our social life.
I suggested that new members be partnered up with a seasoned member. It didn’t have to be a formal arrangement. Perhaps a couple we could call with questions. Seasoned members had their “clicks” just like junior high. It was nobody’s fault. It was just how it was.
I went on to speak about last year’s Prestige awards dinner and the fact that the three of us sat alone. It would have been nice to sit with others. He told me that they had considered assigned seating but elected not to. I countered with, “I don’t think we need assigned seating, but if your staff sees people sitting alone, perhaps they could join the table. You and your spouses are eating, why not sit with those in isolation?” He agreed.
I stopped in a couple of weeks later and asked if there was a policy about who could attend the Prestige award dinner. More specifically, “Can my granddaughter be my plus one?” He confirmed she could.
Lindsay, Eva, David and I went to the dinner. This year we had three invitations to sit with others. Two were from ladies who had become friends with Ruth. The third was from the final pair of golfers we competed against. One was a new member who didn’t know many people. Knowing how new members sometimes feel a bit lost, we sat with them.
Ruth would have chosen the same sitting arrangements, and she most definitely approved of my “plus one”.