| 2004 Jekyll Island Essay
Contest |
| What the Jekyll Island
Golf Trip Means to Me |
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Name: Steve Laird
Email: slaird11@bellsouth.net
Date: Monday May 30, 2005
EssayEver since Andy "The White Tiger" posted his diatribe, I think everyone else has been playing for second place, 2 dozen Wilson Jack balls. What can I say that has not already been said? These golf trips have been going on for many, many years with different destinations. I would say they have been going on for 8 different jobs for me. Of course one of those jobs lasted 25 years, so the other 7 have been at a Tom Misson pace.
I will never forget those trips to North Carolina with my brother, what"s his name? Oh yea Larrry.
On one trip we were able to lose two watches, mine and his, get so drunk at the Elks with Howie pouring the drinks we could not see. We were so drunk we let Chuck "the Silver Bullit" Taylor drive us to dinner at the Silver Bucket. I can't remember much about the meal, but the bread sure tasted great after 7 hours of draft beer. The next day I give Larrry a wedge lesson on how to hit the low right shot commonly called the shank. I must say he was a quick study and couldn't hit it straight the rest of the trip.
The trip expanded in later years and included the Grand Master Earle Laird and some other malcontens like Mike Rinker and Mike Gore. We also changed destinations to Myrtle Beach because of the improved weather in December. What great memories of Myrtle; Gore driving a ball so deep below ground level with his famous back hand shot we had to borrow a shovel from one of the ground crew to retrieve the white sphere ( the ground crew was not using the shovel as they couldn't work while laughing their asses off); Earle exiting the "reading room" at his hotel room only to find one shocked sea gull trapped in the room with him; doing that "nose thing" for the Mills Lane look-alike at a restaurant; stopping at the car between nines to put on every stitch of clothing we had because it was frigging cold. That was our last trip to Myrtle and the only one that included Phil. Our sites were set on a warmer destination further south.
That is how the Jekyl trip was born. I spotted an add in a golf magazine touting the island so we said what the hell. And it has been everything promised in the add and more (they didn't mention the no see em bugs that will eat you alive). The stories of Jekyl are far too numerious to list, but I will cover some of the highlights. There was the year we stayed in the condo's and we flipped for bed space. Larrry came out the big loser getting to sqeeze his 6 foot frame into the baby bed while I got a queen size bed to myself with my own tv and bath. The night we all went to the sea food buffet and Phil welcomed new diners with an ashen stare, a glass of ice water and the remnants of his $20 salad at his feet. Master Earle wrestling at Captain Dick's over his meal, it is the principle of the thing don't you know Larrry. Matt and his swing jacket shooting the round of his life on a course he had never seen. I don't think he saw it that day either because his eyes were shut. Andy going comando the last day of the trip because of a slight mis calculation while packing. Guess he can't count above 5. Dr. Shad, not his real name, bringing a new swing every year. The latest worked, let's see if he keeps it. Hemi playing in a parka with the hood up! He was ready for a snow ball fight. Master Earle dishing Frank Sinatra, the commie, and keeping his room so hot Larrry becomes dehydrated and can't piss for a week. Phil blowing lunch in the bedroom at 3:00 am on the floor. Dr. Shad, not his real name, blowing lunch on the plane on the flight down BEFORE takeoff. Craig busting his 12 pound driver down the middle with his surgically repaired arm 195 yards every day. Larry showiwng up with the latest Ping driver every year just to see if he can swipe it in the woods.
You can bet if I am able I will be there this year to make some more memories. I just received a letter from the hotel a couple weeks ago. I figured it was a bill for replacing the bedroom carpet. Imagine my suprise when I saw it was a thank you note and an invitation back. Fire up the waffle iron, we'll b e there!
Name: Laaaary
Email: lairdla@adelphia.net
Date: Tuesday May 24, 2005
EssayI must admit that my vote too goes for the balding one, Mr. Bratt.
He truly has captured the spirit of the event as well as anyone
could. With that, I'll offer some history, a couple of personal musings, and attempt to convey what Jekyll means to me.
For me, the Jekyll trip got it's start with a couple of trips my brother Steve and I took to Pinehurst a long time ago. It was just the two of us back then, pulling out all the stops and conning our way onto the Pinehurst courses
with a quick $20 tip to the starter. Walking down to the cart livery and commandeering a cart like we owned the damned place. Memories of condos smacked with errant drives, lost watches, Flipper, Wally the Wallet Sitter, and Bunny. It was during these trips that we learned such catchy phrases such as "In a Hearbeat" , "Your Ass is Out!" and of course the classic, "Talk to my Ass, my head hurts!"
Memories of the Barn on Rt. 1 and Chuckles reducing the waitress to tears as he poured beer after beer down his gullet while abstaining from food
entirely. Steve's plastic turtle abduction at Russell's
(incidentally, the best Goddamned Seafood money can buy!) and it's subsequent final resting place in a urinal in the men's room. That and brother Steve's maniacal laughter as he pissed all over it. Never did get that one and I was there! These trips planted to the seeds for the event that we now call The Annual Laird Jekyll Island Golf Trip.
Why do I love these trips? More than anything, it's an opportunity to play golf and spend time with my brother Steve, someone that I don't get to see that often since his move to Florida several years ago. And then there's Dad, 83 1/2 and going strong. What a pleasure to be on the course with him. Of course, there's Phil, the world's greatest hooker of the golf ball and sometimes worst wedge player. Along with Phil, we've lately had the pleasure of the company of Phil's buddies, Matt, Andy, and Shad (not his real name). These young men are as fine a group of guys that you'll find anywhere, and a shit-load of fun. The past two years, long lost cousin Roger (Hemi) has also joined. All and all, a hellova good group. And, I know I'll make this trek for as long as I'm able.
Name: Phil Laird
Email: PHILAI@SAFECO.com
Date: Monday May 23, 2005
EssayOh shit, I’m running out of time…and I’m afraid the well has run dry. I will almost need to sing and dance to try and top Bratt’s contribution – I just laughed through the entire essay again. No doubt, good ‘ole Uncle Chuck has shown us that his daily grind is the proper approach to a week of debauchery. As we all know, among other gems such as “You’re ass is out,” “Bullshit,” and Goddmammit,” he also coined the phrase, “That’s the way we do things around here,” and obviously his influence has now reached all the way to Georgia Coast. It’s with open arms that the island greets us each year with a special southern fried hospitality that can only be earned through years of dedication.
So many stories to recount…hard to know where to start. I guess that’s what I enjoy most out of Jekyll; knowing that I’ll have at least four good belly laughs in a week and get blindly drunk and hurl at least once. And then there’s the golf I guess. While I’ve never seen anybody drink his own piss on this trip, or drive a golf cart into a lake at 25 mph, there have been some memorable moments. Some of my favorites include:
· Watching Matt shoot the round of his life and not remember a thing about it.
· Hearing about Chad’s stand-up efforts
· Waiting impatiently for that extra shrimp
· Watching Windersmear open an industrial size can of peanuts with a butter knife.
· Having Steve wreck my new (slightly used) Beemer on his mid-week trip to Texas for a company that declared bankruptcy the following week.
· Bitch-slapping Pine Lakes with back to back eagles en route to 83.
· Witnessing Howell drink a “bloody navel.” (Beer, Bourbon and Tomato Juice)
· Seeing Shad’s new swing every year
· Wild Bill and his driver novella
· Hancock mayhem
· Getting hit on by the mustachioed Amanda
· Watching Larry humiliate the waitresses – thanks again for the guidance Yoda…err Uncle Chuck
· Listening to Windersmear befriend everyone on the island, especially the over friendly starters, sharing old stories of setting pins at Galion Lanes.
· Seeing Andy’s wild hygiene swings from year to year.
· Seeing Charlene expand rapidly before our eyes
· Todd Gates’ abacus antics
· Yearly drink hawking from the live undead – and watching Matt empty his wallet to buy out the cart
· The best goddammed hamburgers in the northern hemisphere – And it only took us 11 years to figure this out
· Losing a 9-0 euchre lead and sending the cards to the bottom of the Ramada Pool
· Dyke Van Dick show at Mr. Hyde’s…before the implosion.
· 100 Lifetimes of low duck hooks.
· Watching Chad play from deep in the palmettos…a shot thought impossible until his arrival Oceanside
· $180 swing jacket
· $20 salad
· Credit card roulette
· Seeing an African-American beat to death on the news…because he “deserved it.”
· Listening to stories about life in the 60’s…man do I feel cheated.
· Pushing all limits of human tolerance, stopping just short of heroin.
· Gary, Mudface, and the hair gravy found at the Correctional Inn.
· Wide-Eye and Flash Food bargains
Not too many golf stories in there. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could almost go for some two-man scramble or alternate-shot action in the afternoons this year – something to mix it up. Clearly our stat wizard has lost interest and I think our games have all seen better days. Perhaps this will give the old farts a chance to catch their breath in the afternoon. OK, this is not really an essay…so I have to vote for Andy. Well done!
Name: Roger "Hemi" Laird
Email: lairdlin@aol.com
Date: Wednesday March 02, 2005
EssayMy 2004 Jekyll Island golf experience was truly an adventure. My various mishit shots took me to nearly all parts of the island. Certainly, I did not hurt the fairways since nearly all shots following the tee ball were hit from the rough or worse. Once I got to the green things went pretty well, with only a smattering of 3 and 4 putts to test my cool. For me, the trip is more about the camaraderie of fellow golfers (I use the term loosely in describing myself) who share a passion for the game. We're all pursuing those pars and birdies. Some more successfully than others, i.e., me. Certainly, the weather cooperated this year, as I would put it in the excellent category. In fact, on Sunday it probably rated a 10 for golf or otherwise. Those 36 hole days are wonderful, with the two 18's sandwiching a delicious lunch in the clubhouse. I'm still farting the clubhouse chili. The motel's "free" breakfast gets the day off to a roaring start, even though the hair protein was missing this year. Capping a perfect day are the sublime island evenings where we share a quiet meal followed by some delightful Texas hold'em. Although the younger guys are still learning Texas hold'em, I can see some promise. Who could ask for more in a given day on earth? Probably the best closing commentary I can make about the Jekyll outing is that as soon as it ended, I was already thinking about next year's trip. And hopefully finding more of those pars and birdies. Who am I kidding?
Name: Matt (Andy) Bratt
Email: andrew.bratt@pacefg.com
Date: Tuesday January 04, 2005
EssayFor me, the Jeckyll Island trip (or at least a preview of such) started in 1994, when on the spur of the moment, Steve and Phil were traveling south to visit uncle Chuck, in Southern Pines for a quick long weekend of debauchery. At the very last second (literally), I tagged along for my first Laird family golf trip and we sped to North Carolina in Steve’s Intrepid with the sunroof down the entire way (hell, it was the beginning of March and almost over 45 degrees). As this was my first time golfing since high school (and thus first time swinging a golf club after growing 7 inches taller after the senior year golf season), and contracting pneumonia from the drive down, I had absolutely no game. After trying 9 different sets of clubs to no avail, the trip was relegated to only hitting tee balls and playing drunker than shit ping-pong at the Elks. Although I found it strange that the entire trip’s diet consisted of Lance crackers and Cashews (for both cost savings and diet purposes), little did I know it was a preview of the one-week a year lifestyle we’ve come to know as Jeckyll.
You see, the reason for the Sam’s Club style snacks are to keep the cost of the trip at exactly $700 (say), for each of the Lairds (and now, Matt (Andy) and Chad) have a pre-nuptial agreement with their respective wives that allow for one long weekend, which has now been extended to Tuesday thru Monday following. For this, the wives are afforded 359 days of bitching about anything they want. Yes, there’s nothing like rolling up to the Holiday Inn “just down the road” from the airport and seeing the Laird clan, even though it’s a year later, seems like last weekend. Newcomers to the trip often panic as to how we are going to find each other at “some hotel down the road”, but it’s magically never a problem.
The trip starts off with an adrenaline filled warm up round, where everyone has there best round, only to be shocked when the scoring the rest of the week is in direct correlation to the amount of alcohol and tobacco products used. When asked about Jeckyll from outsiders, I describe it as cousin Avi described London in the Guy Ritchie film “Snatch”…”London. You know, fish, chips, cup o’ tea, bad food, worse weather, Mary Fucking Poppins; London!”…”Jeckyll. You know, burgers, fingers, crystal meth, bad restaurants, worse water, Han Fucking Cocks; Jeckyll!” They also wonder why anyone in their right minds would play 11+ rounds of golf in 6 days on an island, and never see the water.
Many traditions have developed during this fun filled week, many of them forgettable. One of my favorites, after smoking 19 packs of cigarettes, is arriving at the Laird household in Jacksonville, and to have Carol greet us like we just got back from the war and immediately tell Steve how bad he smells and there’s no goddamn way he is sleeping in the house tonight without shaving. She then remembers that there are deadly snakes outside and quickly invites him back in for the best tasting chili this side of the nuthouse. Yes, many family vacations are often ruined by the long-shoreman like swear words that become the vernacular after a week at jeckyll with the boys. And Joe better watch his ass about the principal of the thing. As we all part ways, we all go away satisfied with another year of debauchery, giggling like schoolgirls and wondering how Amy does it.
Name: Shad
Email: huffersm@yahoo.com
Date: Tuesday January 04, 2005
EssayI would like to say that each year the Jekyll trip gets better and better. I really enjoyed the weather this year. In my defense, I probably do not own as much Nike apparel as Andy nor would I try to compete with his great style. I feel sorry for Matthew Fletcher (the younger of the Fletcher's on the trip) for his meltdown this year. I know myself that it can be very frustrating to play in that fashion. I saw some shots that I have never seen before. I few years ago I won the award for the worst slice. I could really turn that ball to the right. But I have never seen anyone hit a ball straight right with such consistently as I did this year. It is a shame that such an award was not given for such a feat this. Anyway I enjoyed the trip as always and I am very greatful to my friends for once again putting up with my antics. I figure I must have true friends to be able to put up with me. Thanks. Also there is no need to put me in the contest, because nobody is swifter with the pen than Phil..... Congrats
Name: Shad
Email: huffersm@yahoo.com
Date: Tuesday January 04, 2005
EssayHey if you are referring to My Aimee (it is spelled like the Fletcher relation). I don't know how she does it either. I am truely blessed. Only 11 months till next year.
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