A Call to the Hall

ST. AUGUSTINE, Fla. – Jones, Hogan, Snead, Palmer, Nicklaus. They all got here one way or another, most notably on their sheer greatness and contributions to the game of golf.

And now me, the Golf Guy. How did I manage to get here? Interstate-95.

I speak, of course, of the World Golf Hall of Fame. Home to all of golf’s greatest champions.

And now me, the Golf Guy. And some of my absolute hacker buddies.

OK, not so much the World Golf Hall of Fame as much as the World Golf Village, which indeed is the home of the WGHOF.

I have taken many golf trips before, mind you, but this was being labeled as the "First Official Annual Golf Guy Golf Trip." Invitations were even sent out. This was a big trip for me and my boys, therefore the pressure to find the perfect destination was paramount.

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The usual suspects were bandied about – Myrtle Beach, Scottsdale, Pinehurst and the likes – but the Golf Guy felt something deep inside his golfing soul. If this was being touted as the 'First Official' then how in the hell could it not be a chance to walk among the giants of the game? It became, as I saw it, our own "Call to the Hall," minus the acceptance speeches – which is actually a shame, as our foursome would have made that ceremony a truly memorable event.

And so it was. Transportation arrangements were made, tee times booked. We met in Orlando – Arnold Palmer and the Golf Guy’s adopted hometown. The following is a timeline of our highlights of the trip:

Wednesday, 2:30 a.m.

Simple two-hour drive to St. Augustine, Fla. Easy, peasy. Right? Wrong. A plane delay involving the guy I will hereto refer as ‘The Guy I Wish I Didn’t Invite’ causes us to not arrive at the World Golf Village (WGV) until 5:30 a.m. Ouch.

9:45 a.m.

Happily awake in a fantastic two-bedroom villa [the Grande Villas] in what must be one of the most convenient locations for all golf trips: everything, with the exception of the first golf course we play, is within walking distance. Again, walking – not driving – is quite the play when on a buddies trip.

10:30 a.m.

Quick trip to local supermarket for late-night and early-morning reinforcements, much of which will, of course, go unused and be discarded. The villa has a huge kitchen and I love the option of having my own snacks around nonetheless.

High Noon

To get the golf started we hop in the car for a short ride to the King and the Bear, the world's only Palmer and Nicklaus co-designed course. The King and the Bear, huh? Nah, that’s not a little intimidating, is it? The only course in the entire world that the two most influential golfers of all time have come together to make golf fun for the average hack? Two words: Bucket List. As in, I get to cross off 'playing the only Palmer-Nicklaus designed course in the world' from my golf Bucket List.

1:37 p.m.

The Florida heat is absolutely brutal; and yet the good folks at the course kindly offer up water-soaked, ice-cold towels for all who are suffering in the sun. And they continue to offer up, proudly I might add, the fact that the towels have some sort of almond scent. Or pineapple. Or mint. Or cherry. Or, or ... something. It is amusing in the fact that I appreciate the cold towel, but it's not like I wandered into some cheesy dance club and hoped for a spritz of Drakar after leaving the men's room. A cold towel is a cold towel. I don't really care if it smells like wild, roasted Maine pinenuts. Oh, I kid the on-course, cold towel guys. Honestly, it was a major treat.

5:42 p.m.

We arrive at the par-4 12th on the King and the Bear. This is a special moment that I need to point out to my buddies. Why? Because Arnie himself has placed this hole on his ‘Dream 18’ of holes he has designed. And – duh – it doesn’t disappoint. A beautiful 349-yard par-4, the hole winds around a lake on the right to a small island-type green. It is one of those holes that is pretty to look at from tee to green. Trouble? For sure. Worth wrecking your scorecard? For sure, as well. 

6:17 p.m.

Encounter cart girl once again. She is, as my father likes to say, “very easy on the eyes.” Thus, we buy more beer. And a granola bar. And some M&M’s. And a Gatorade. And some toothpicks. And get some extra ice. All the while making feeble, 40-year-old 'dumb guys on a golf trip' talk. Thankfully, she’s a pro at handling such foolish dialogue.

7:07 p.m.

We finish up 18 pleasurable holes and my partner, who is a doctor – of what I have no idea (My guess? He has a Ph. D in crappy golf) – and I lose our scramble bet. Not even close. He is, however, the funniest man in the group, so in a way I win. Not quite the proverbial win-win situation, but I'm happy with the not-so-proverbial lose-win outcome.

7:59 p.m.

Make an enjoyable 200-yard walk from our villa to the renowned Murray Bros. Caddy Shack restaurant, located oh-so-conveniently right on the World Golf Village campus. We order the following and share: fried fish sandwich, Bar-B-Q ribs, steaks, and some giant onion rings. ‘The Guy I Wish I Didn’t Invite’ tries to order a round of Jäger shots and, for the first time in my life I hear a chorus of ‘No! No!’ So we settle, sheepishly, on a round of – this kinda hurts to say – Lemon Drops. I know, I know, but hey, they are delicious.

9:31 p.m.

Head to the giant pool – again, just a short walking distance from our room – for a late-night swim and some relaxation. Unfortunately, ‘The Guy I Wish I Didn’t Invite’ decides that we need to have a swim competition. It turns out to be one of the funniest and worst ideas of the entire weekend.

The opening two-man race looks like a cross between a giant food processor run amok and a hail storm. Other guests in the pool take delight – and hurry to the sides of the pool in fear – to watch this rather un-Michael Phelps-like swimming performance. Fortuitously, no one drowns. That said, the absolute effort of the endeavor literally causes one of our foursome to immediately go to bed as he mumbles the words "heart attack."