Chapter 9

Although we returned to the park at other times, after three nonstop days, the edge was off. Furthermore, Charlie had given us the super VIP pass so our visits were always very pleasant.

We spent time swimming and soaking up the sun with Kris complaining that, because Disney didn’t have a nude beach, she was going to show strap marks. Since her preferred attire was the tiny thong that scarcely covered her nipples, I didn’t think that would be a problem. Incidentally, she really could even swim in the thing.

To say the very least, the perfection of her body provoked virtually continuous gasps and sighs.

We also went back to playing golf. And that gave rise to a wonderful day.

While on the practice tee warming up, the head pro came over to watch. After seeing us both hitting perfect shots with every club in our bags, he took us aside and invited us to join him in the pro shop.

He poured coffee for the three of us and then sat behind his desk. “Could you folks do me a huge favor?” he asked, finally getting to the point of the meeting.

“Yes, if we can,” Kris responded, speaking for both of us. “What is it?”

At that point he started fidgeting; clearly whatever it was was embarrassing. Finally he blurted, “You people are really loaded, aren’t you?”

“We’re okay,” I replied. “But what’s that have to do with anything?”

“There are a couple of guys out there waiting for two people to complete a foursome. The problem is they’re sand-baggers and sharks. Yesterday, they hit a really nice guy for over $3,000. The guy is down with his family, and I understand they’re packing to leave now; they got cleaned out. His wife and kids are heartbroken; they’ve been looking forward to this trip for years and now it’s been ruined.

“Look, my thought is this: I’ll pair you with the sharks and you clean them out. I would love nothing better than to throw their asses — beg your pardon, ma’am — out of the park, but they haven’t done anything that we could really use to do that. And, of course, the organization is very concerned about being sued.

“They cleaned the other guy out by playing a $500 Nassau. If you were to play them and clean them out, everyone would be very happy.” He looked at us hopefully and asked, “Could you do it?”

Kris looked at me and I nodded. “It sounds like fun to me,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

The pro grinned and we shook hands all around. He added that we would be assigned the four most senior caddies who would be tipped off in advance to what was going on. “They’ll be delighted to help, too,” the pro added. “Aside from everything else, after taking that guy for three grand, they tipped their caddies a dollar each. Can you believe it?”

Before leaving the pro shop I asked the pro to contact the family that was in the process of leaving and tell them that they would be staying. At a minimum, I would cover the $3,000 the guy lost to the sharks the day before. “And, by the way, you might tell the folks at your headquarters that Kristin Collins is involved in this.”

He rolled his eyes. “My lord! The staff hasn’t been able to talk about anything else for days. From what I hear, you’re going to be starring in our PR material for years to come.”

He took us over to the first tee where two guys were waiting. Kris and I exchanged looks. We had been on the practice tee for quite a while and hadn’t seen them before. That meant that they hadn’t bothered to warm up. Better and better.

They were introduced as Chuck and Hank. I could tell by looking at them that they weren’t happy to be set up in a foursome with a woman. To their way of thinking it would really crimp the possibility of another big payday. But working on the principle of nothing ventured, nothing gained, Chuck asked if we would play a $500 Nassau. I could tell from the way he asked that he expected an immediate rejection.

Both were amazed when Kris, bubbling with enthusiasm as usual, exclaimed, “Neato!” Turning to me she said, “Could we, Cam? Please? Huh? Please?”

“Oh ... okay,” I reluctantly conceded. “But you had better play better than you’ve been playing,” I warned her. “If you don’t it’s going to be expensive ... for us and for you!”

Gently she rubbed one of her perfect little buns and squeaked, “You mean... ?”

“I mean!”

“But they’re still awful sore from the last time,” she complained.

“Tough!”

It was all the two men could do to control their laughter.

“How about handicaps?” I asked in a voice that would carry a bit. This was part of what we had discussed with the pro.

Instantly the two were falling all over themselves insisting it was just a friendly match — yeah, sure! — and they weren’t necessary. Kris and I allowed ourselves to be persuaded, finally exchanging winks.

[For the benefit of non-golfers who, I suspect, are the large majority of my readers, an explanation of a Nassau is in order. First, it’s done in match play which means that one team or the other wins a hole. If tied, the hole is considered “halved.” The Nassau is actually three matches in one: the front nine, the back nine, and the 18. In a $500 Nassau, there is potentially $1,500 on the line. Finally, there’s the “press”. A press is the doubling of the wager; a team can press the side or the match or both. It can only be initiated by the trailing team; the other team has the option to accept or decline each time.]

We halved the first hole and got to the second tee. This hole had a water hazard immediately in front of the tee, extending about 100 yards. When it was Kris’s turn to tee off, she proceeded to splash her first two shots. She was lying 4 while still on the tee. Our opponents won that hole easily to go 1-up in the match.

“Can we press, Cam?” Kris asked, bouncing up and down. “Please, please! I’ll do better, honest!”

Reluctantly, I agreed and we offered to press the whole thing. Chuck and Hank gleefully accepted. We were then effectively playing a $1,000 Nassau.

The next hole was a par-5 with an out-of-bounds on the right side. On my second shot I sliced two successive balls out of bounds so I was lying 5 while still over 200 yards from the green. We lost that one, too.

Kris just glared at me, while I shrugged.

This time I was the one who offered to again press the whole thing and again it was accepted, but this time only after some consultation between Hank and Chuck. Exchanging looks with Kris, we agreed without words that we had pushed our opponents to their financial limit.

By this time, of course, we were down two holes for the front nine and the match with only six holes left to play on the side. We halved the 4^th and 5^th holes. This amounted to a victory for our opponents because we were still down two holes with only four left to play. The 6^th was a long hole that Kris birdied for a win. We halved the 7^th and went to the very short 8^th. I put my tee shot only a few feet from the pin for an easy birdie and another win. Going to the 9^th tee, we were all even. Had the match ended right there, no money would have changed hands.