Path To Glory
Chapter 35

Copyright© 2008 by Brendan Buckley

Amelie planned to serve as my honorary caddy during the pro-am. She rode in a cart beside us. Jill volunteered to caddy for Catalina for the week to help the girl save some money, which I thought was pretty nice.

Bailey had told me the sisters were having a difficult time financially on the tour.

"If one of them doesn't get a decent payday soon, they'll be in trouble," she told me. "Sophie won a little bit last year, but with her sister on tour, too, it's going to be rough. Jenny and I have tried to line up some sponsorship opportunities, but I worry it'll be too late. It just costs so much up front to play on this tour and if you're not at the top of the leaderboard, then you're playing for peanuts.

"The reason so many show up here — besides Jenny — is because the payday is split up so well. You can finish 25th and still make a profit."

Amelie told her the payout split at this tournament had come from a suggestion by her host.

"You can't get the best golfers here if it's winner take all," I said with a shrug. "Just like with football. If you split the money a little farther. you get a better group."

The Montoyas' situation got me thinking about the way Bailey's parents had set up an LLC to offset some of her initial costs. There was an unspoken arrangement that Bailey would return the money to her parents, based on her future earnings. It was unspoken because the NCAA would have shit a green turd.

An idea was geminating in my head and I knew just who to turn to for some advice.

"Can you tell me if this makes sense to you?" I asked Beth later that day. "If I invested in a corporation, I could loan money to it against future earnings, correct?"

Beth told me that would be possible.

"Would there be any additional tax liability for doing so?" I asked. "Would I have to pay a gains tax if I only wanted back what I put in, without interest?"

She told me so long as I only took out what I'd put in there would be no liability.

"You'll have already paid taxes on what you're giving," she said. "You'll be able to withdraw up to the amount you invest without penalty."

She wanted to know what I had in mind, but I put her off for a day.

"I won't make any moves without your approval," I told her. "But for now I want to check into a couple of other things."

I ran the scenario past Bailey later that night. She was quick to tell me that's not why she talked to me.

"It would solve some problems for them," she said. "But there's no guarantee you'll get your money back."

I told her that was true but it also was true I might make even more money.

"My plan is to offer $100,000 against 1 percent of their first $10 million," I said. "That will pay back my initial investment. But I'm also going to offer to represent them in the sponsorship deals against 2 percent of their marketing money."

Bailey laughed.

"Right now my dad handles that for me for 5 percent," she said. "I may leave him and come over to you."

I didn't tell Bailey that I hoped eventually she would come over to me, but not for marketing. I was glad she'd found her smile again. Even if she'd found it while apart from me.

"I'm going to watch them play this week," I said. "I'll know by Saturday if it's a worthwhile venture or just a charity donation. But either way, I think it's something I'm going to offer."

Bailey told me with a laugh that I always was a sucker for a pretty face. I winked and told she was a perfect example.


The pro-am was a blast.

Sophie and Bailey's group teed off early. Amelie was feeling spry, so she decided to walk the first few holes, while Jill followed along in the cart in case she got tired.

The fourth member of our group wasn't having much luck. He was trying to chat up Sophie and Bailey — and even Amelie — all morning about how successful his car dealerships were, and how he hoped to be the one next year to provide the courtesy cars.

We tried to include him in conversation as often as we could but since he spent most of the day touring the more exotic parts of the course, he wasn't around us very much.

I realized early on that I really wanted to win my bet. It was made in jest and I wasn't planning to try hard to win but one or two holes. After seeing Sophie and Catalina in swimwear — and having the chance to see Bailey without (many) clothes again — I found myself playing to win from the first hole.

By the turn, I had won three holes outright, lost four and the last two were carryover skins to the 10th hole. Bailey was also up $350 by that point. Her partner insisted on paying at the end of each hole. I think he just wanted to show how much money he was carrying with him.

Bailey kept handing me the money as soon as he'd hand it to her, drawing puzzled glances from her partner for the first few holes.

On seven, she said she told him I was her golf pimp.

"That's right, girl," I said as I used my five-iron like a pimp cane. "Big Daddy gets his share, too."

We halved 10, 11 and 12, so 13 was worth six holes. It was also my favorite hole on the course. I had the highest score clear back on No. 7, so I was last to tee off in the group. Amelie was in the cart by now, so I told her my plan.

She laughed with delight and started surveying the scene. She zipped off in the cart to alert any innocent bystanders.

Thirteen, a par five, was a wicked dogleg left with a green hidden behind a small rise and a section of trees. Bailey and Sophie drove the ball down the middle of the fairway. I didn't even pretend I was headed that way. I lined up and drove the ball through the trees that guarded the left-hand side and onto the adjacent fairway on No. 8.

It worked out better than I'd planned because the ball had bounced off the cart path and rolled almost to the 8th tee box. The tee box was all of fifty yards from the 13th green. Amelie had underestimated my length and my tee shot had scared the crap out of a couple of people in that direction, but no harm was done.

"What have I told you for years, Bailey?" I joked. "You get extra distance off the cart path!"

Sophie and Bailey were screwed and they knew it. I'd be putting for eagle while their third shot would be to try to get on the green. Our fourth member looked at me like I'd just committed the biggest faux pas in golf. Hell, I might have as far as I knew. But it wasn't out of bounds, so it must be in play. I rode over with Amelie. What the women didn't know was that I had done this shot a number of times on this hole, and always managed to screw up the second shot somehow.

"There's never been naked titties riding on the second shot before either," Amelie said when I told her. "It is a matter of incentive, no?"

She must have been right. My lob wedge to the green was within 20 feet of the cup.

No one was in sight, but Amelie joked that I should just drop it in the cup and call it a double-eagle.

I was just glad I had a witness. When the rest of the group turned the corner of the dogleg and saw where my ball rested I saw Sophie's head drop.

Amelie met them and told them I was playing three. Our fourth was playing six by the time he got to the green and Sophie and Bailey were playing three but both were much farther from the cup than I was. This was also one of the holes where I got my "extra shot" so, essentially, the women were playing four.

I probably could three-putt and still halve the hole. I didn't. I didn't get the eagle — I still don't have one to this day — but I got a birdie and won six skins. And when I say skin, I meant some realskin. Because I had separate bets against Bailey and Sophie, each hole was essentially double. The three holes I had won on the front nine assured me of topless entertainment, but everything from here on out was full frontal. Each woman owed me four songs completely bare.

I added insult to injury for Sophie before she teed off on the next hole.

"When we were in Hawaii, didn't you promise me some nasties-to-nasties dancing on the 18th green?" I asked with a sly smile.

"I promised you a lot of things," Sophie said curtly, and I knew there was a good chance I could add to my dance card on the next few holes.

Bailey was a different story. She wasn't mad about being outfoxed. In fact, I think she was downright proud of me. But she was clearly determined not to lose any more.

The fourth guy asked us what kind of bet we had that was so important.

The guy's eyes almost popped out of his sockets — and Bailey, Sophie, and I blushed mightily — when Amelie informed him, "It's a sex bet."

Bailey regained her composure first and asked for her $50. Then she shrugged and put it in my pocket. Bailey and I halved the last five holes. I won two and lost three against Sophie, so I offered the 2-3 split with Bailey as well.

The best part was when we counted up our scorecards. Each of the three of us was under par for the round — counting the four shots they'd given me I was at 63. Even without the bonus I shot a 67, the lowest I'd ever posted on this course or anywhere.

Bailey shot a 69 and Sophie was at 70. We stuck around to watch Catalina finish, then hit the clubhouse for the award ceremony and sponsor's dinner. Sophie and I won a trophy and matching windbreakers as low pair. Bailey and I received windbreakers as low pro and low amateur. I gave the extra windbreaker to Catalina to complete the group's set.

Catalina told me it was good to know that if football didn't work out, I could get a sex change and make some cash on the LPGA tour. Amelie and Jill went home and our fourth player decided he'd had enough of us, I guess. It was just Sophie, Catalina, Bailey and me at our table for dinner. We headed back to the house about 7 p.m. in fine spirits. This week had turned out better than any of us had hoped.

The women decided to turn in early since the actual tournament started in the morning. Catalina teed off at 8:50 a.m. but Sophie and Bailey didn't play until 11:20 AM and 11:40 AM, respectively. I told Catalina I'd wake her at 6 for breakfast and make sure she was on the way to the course by 7:20 a.m.

 
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