Chapter 3

We shook hands and left for the coast to stay with one of Mom’s friends at the beach. Three courses were within an hour of her house, so we were set for a week. Sandy welcomed us and said she saw the news conference, and Mom laughed. Mom told Sandy it was all an act to avoid the hard questions. It worked this time but won’t next week. TJ wanted to get out of town quickly so that Dad couldn’t track us down. Stuck at a news conference and glad-handing Dad could have made a surprise visit. Now, he has to answer questions he has no answer for and will look foolish. John has been gone for three days and hasn’t called but is in town. So, TJ and I are doing the same to him, and he can get a taste of his own shit. Sandy said welcome to your hideout and Mom, and I laughed.

I asked Sandy if jogging and running on the beach are popular here. She said yes, usually before 9 a.m. But don’t wear your good shoes here if you run at the beach. You’ll ruin them, according to my friends. It has something to do with the salt water and wearing out the sides above the sole. You best go to the outlet mall off the freeway and get a pair of cheap trainers. I said you should know better than to say those two words to Mom, Sandy.

She’s already calculating whether we need a trailer or hire a semi for the trip home. And please don’t tell her it’s open 24 hours a day. We’ll never see her but to unload and shower if necessary. Sandy and Mom were laughing, and I said she’d wear dark clothes and sneak into Dad’s apartment in the city at night. Steal his wallet again and leave smoking on the side of the highway. And poor dad spent a few days in the hospital the last time, and of course, I got new clothes to go along with it. Mom said stop, that’s not true, laughing. I said ok, tell Sandy what part isn’t. Mom said you left out the part that he promised to buy you new clothes, and we all laughed.

We ate take-out Italian, and Mom asked Sandy what stores were at the outlet mall. Sandy started laughing, and Mom said I still have one of his cards, and he’ll want to make up with us. So, Sandy and I could pick up a few things while you play golf. I also asked Sandy if there was a golf superstore, causing everyone to laugh. Then Sandy said she called a friend, and I could play free and out of the public eye at the TPC. All they ask is you wear some of their gear during the Junior’s Tournament. They are used to amateurs, so they’ll have everything covered to protect your status with receipts.

Rob Carson, my friend, said the NCAA controls the amateurs from high school to college. Those institutions have compliance officers who coach their students on what they can and cannot do. He said I would be on a watch list for the NCAA. You don’t go to high school or college under the NCAA’s control so you will be under a microscope. Rob has a book for me to read to protect my status and advise me. Finally, Mom and I agreed to Sandy’s plan and went to bed.

I awoke, exercised, practiced my huku, sensed the area, grabbed my walking staff, took off running on the street today, and enjoyed the ocean air and breeze. I turned around at an estimated three miles and returned to Sandy’s house. After stretching, I showered, dressed, and went to the kitchen for breakfast, vitamins, and a protein drink with Mom and Sandy. Then, we went to the TPC course and met Rob Carson.

Rob was one of the club’s pros, so we started on the practice range. He gave me tips on getting lift or driving the ball low when it’s windy. Then, I played a round under his supervision and learned a lot. Where and when to aim for the side fairway instead of the middle. I also learned how to adjust my swing to control the ball’s distance. Finally, on the last three holes, Rob showed me how to get more distance out of drives off the tee.

We ate lunch, and Rob explained how my game would change as I grew. Then, I would have to adjust my mechanics with my growth until my late teens. After each growth spurt, get remeasured for your clubs. Short clubs screw up your mechanics and cause injury. Finally, find a coach I can visit once a month or so. Also, call for advice when you’re having trouble or talk about a golf course.

Then he took me to a classroom, and we talked about the mental part of the game. Things other players use to throw me off my game. Rob said my Mom was a prime target for other players to use. He said to come up with short replies to upset them. Don’t get pulled into an argument or banter. They won then, and you lost your focus. If it gets bad, call over an official and ask him to get the idiot to shut up. And get some good earplugs to wear in case it gets bad. I used to wear them all the time, which helped me focus.

Finally, Rob gave me a book on maintaining my amateur status with the NCAA. He said rules constantly change, using NILs and bonus payments as examples. Leaving, Rob gave me a pass for the week and said to see him before I left for receipts and clothing. I thanked him for all his help and called Mom.

Mom picked me up, and we went to the outlet mall. Mom had left Sandy there to pick me up, so they had most of their shopping done. I wasn’t so lucky, and two women chose things for me. And surprise, the mall had a golf outlet store too. I got a set of good reusable earplugs. They looked like hearing aids and had a switch to turn on to block outside noise. They used the same batteries as hearing aids, so we bought plenty of those. We finally left to go home for dinner. Mom said she didn’t use Dad’s card because he would know where we were if she did.

We spent a relaxing week with Sandy and no interruptions. I practiced every day, and Mom and Sandy did their thing together. Finally, on Thursday morning, we said goodbye to Sandy and headed home. We were ready to get home, and when we did, a car was parked down the street with a man watching the house. Notes littered both the front and kitchen doors from Dad, so we ignored them and unloaded the SUV. Once everything was inside, we locked the house and unpacked, then did laundry. Next, I went to get our mail and returned. There was a note from the post office. Please come to the post office for extra mail that wouldn’t fit in the mailbox. I showed Mom the mail and said judging from what we have here. We can plan to be away for a year.

Mom said let’s lock up and go to lunch, then the post office. On the way back, stop by the clubhouse, get your start time for tomorrow, and visit with David Lloyd. If Dad comes by the house, he’ll be sitting awhile laughing. So that’s what we did, and the post office had a plastic box full of mail for us. Then, at the country club, David had us fill out a form to join the NCAA. He said it would be great if I finished in the top ten, but I would have more perks for a higher finish. But it had to be postmarked today to qualify, so we signed up. He rushed off to get it sent by registered mail for us today. Mom said something was going on, let’s stay and eat, then talk to David again.

We got the scoop when David returned. The club got recognition for holding an NCAA event, but all the players had to be members. It set them up for future Tournaments and his bonuses, and we all laughed. David said he lined up this Tournament to get the club on the NCAA Tournament list. I tee off early again because of my last name, and we went home and saw Dad sleeping in his car, so Mom didn’t want to wake him up. We hugged goodnight and laughed our way to bed.

I awoke, exercised, practiced my huku, sensed the area, grabbed my walking staff, and took off running my route, maintaining my speed and stride. I felt good when I reached the turnaround point, so I kept the same pace and returned home. After stretching, I showered, dressed, went to the kitchen for breakfast with Mom, vitamins, and a protein drink, then drove the golf cart to the practice range. Mom didn’t want the hassle of parking a block away. And boy, were people pissed we drove up in the golf cart.

I completed my warm-up, and I was called to the starters shack. I put my earplugs in and reported. Unfortunately, Tony Adams, the leading amateur, thought I shouldn’t be here and yelled insults about Mom, me, Dad, and the dog we didn’t have. When that didn’t work, he shoved me to the ground, got disqualified for gross misconduct, and had to be removed. Mom went to the lead official, chewed him out, and told him to get his shit together and watch those two other assholes pointing to his friends in my group. I finished the eight under, and Tony’s friends were two over par ten shots back.

At the press conference, I said I would make a statement only about Tony Adams. Then, answer other questions. If one of you asks about Tony, I leave. Tony Adams took exception to me being here. He tried insulting me, my family, and a dog we don’t have. Officials should have stopped him when he started but did nothing. So, Tony got physical and disqualified. It’s sad to see the game of gentlemen degraded by a spoiled, entitled teenager throwing a temper tantrum. If I knew it was golf hockey, I would have sent his balls to his throat and had his teeth join them. Now, questions and press played nice, and we left and drove the golf cart home with Mom laughing.

Mom asked where I came up with the balls in the throat and his teeth joining them. I said when dad you pinned against the wall, I wanted to do that to him. Mom hugged me and said I have my bodyguard and son all in one. Then she told me Tony’s friends didn’t know what to do without him. If they fall again tomorrow, they will withdraw for sure. I asked what she thought happened to Dad. He had to know about today. Mom said John probably figured you would tank today, and it would all disappear. Expect to see him at the final for sure.

We played poker for the rest of the afternoon, ate dinner, and watched the news. The press beat Tony Adams down, and they said if he wasn’t suspended for the year, money changed hands. The officials should also receive penalties for their inaction. Mom said watch your back tomorrow and double-check your scorecard. Officials don’t like getting called incompetent. I promised Mom I would be careful, and we hugged goodnight and went to bed.

I awoke, exercised, practiced my huku, sensed the area, did my yoga routine, showered, dressed, went to the kitchen for breakfast mom, took my vitamins and protein drink, then drove the golf cart to the practice range. We were the first ones there, and I went through the practice routine and then spent the rest of the time putting. I was called and found I had new partners. Tony’s friends dropped out due to illness, which didn’t affect their ranking. It didn’t matter to me. I scored a ten under for the round and eighteen under for the tournament. My closest challenger was four under, and the officials called me the winner under the mercy rule after taking a vote of participants.

I got a trophy, a certificate, and a winner’s bag approved by the NCAA. I thanked the club, David Lloyd, Rob Carson, and the TPC for their help. But I couldn’t have done it without my biggest supporter, my Mom, Barbara Billingsley, and my hard-working Dad, John Billingsley. Thank you. After the press conference, I asked Mom what she wanted to do now, and she laughed and said to pack quickly were driving to LA. We packed quickly, locked the house, and were on the road in 90 minutes. We brought all the mail, stopped by the post office, put a hold on the mail, and hit the road. Mom said three days of driving, 10 hours a day. We may stop in Arizona for some rest, then push on to LA.

We were on the road an hour when Dad called Mom, and she answered. Dad was pissed we left, and Mom said Jack, you disappeared for three days. We went on vacation and came back for the Tournament. Again, you were a no-show, so we’re touring golf courses honing your son’s skills. And John, your dam lucky your son said your name in his speech. I sure as hell wouldn’t have the way you have acted. Get your shit together, and I left you a care package by the gate. Goodbye, John, and hung up.

We stopped outside Atlanta, GA, the first night because we left late. Mom got a double bedroom, and I said I don’t usually go to bed on the first date. Mom laughed and said there was no reason to get two rooms for a few hours of sleep. I asked if we were sleeping, and Mom threw a pillow at me, laughing. We stopped outside of Oklahoma City the second night. Then Mom put her foot down on the gas, and we made it to the Arizona and California border on the third night. We left early to finish the trip and drove to Mom’s house at Riviera Country Club.

Mom said we beat traffic, pulling into our driveway at 3 p.m. I said that’s not traffic shit and Mom laughed and said you’d get used to it. Mom had called ahead, and a maid service cleaned and aired out the house. So, we unloaded the SUV, and I was shown my room, and I put my things away. Mom did the same, and then we went to a Mexican restaurant nearby for dinner. Mom said in the morning, we would go to the country club and add me to her membership. I can play golf, and she will enjoy a spa day laughing. I told Mom I’d take golf and running any day over a 2500-mile car ride, and we both agreed. After dinner, we returned home and crashed.

I awoke, exercised, practiced my huku, sensed the area, grabbed my walking staff, and took off running to find my route, keeping a steady speed and stride. I felt good running again, and I found a good course and reached my turnaround point, so I kept the same pace and returned home. After stretching, I showered, dressed, and went to the kitchen. I took my vitamins and protein drink, then waited on Mom. Mom said we’d stop for breakfast and get my golf gear and swimming suits and laughed. We stopped at Carl’s Jr. and then went to the Club House. I was added to Mom’s membership and given a credit card with my picture so I could charge things to the account.

We separated. Mom went to the spa, and I went to the pro shop. I told them I was new, but my Mom and parents were long-time members. They gave me the basic rundown of how things worked, and I said it sounded the same as our club in South Carolina. I won a Junior tournament there before we left for the long assed drive here. I got two buckets of balls and went to the practice range. It felt good to swing the clubs again after the long drive.

A man walked over, and he was Phil Robertson, the club pro, so I told him my name. He laughed, and I saw a few news reports on you recently. Set a new club record score at qualifications and called the Tournament under the mercy rule. I said, “Wow, I have a fan 2500 miles from home,” Phil laughed. I told Phil my Mom and I had moved into her house here and would be staying for a while. Then I asked if it was hard to fill out a foursome or the course rules for playing a round. We returned to the pro shop together, and Phil introduced me to everyone as an experienced player to fill out a foursome in the mornings. They put my name and phone number on the list and told me to check in before going to the practice range. Then they gave me a locker for my clubs, and I went to lunch and the pool.

That’s when I met up with Mom and said, “Hey, baby, are you someone famous?” Can I get your autograph? Mom laughed. She asked how it went, and I said ok. The way they do things here is strange, but I’ll get used to it. Then I asked if her parents had a golf cart, and Mom said shit, I forgot about that and made a call. She said it’s in storage, but it will be ready tomorrow. Let’s go to the market and get food for the house.