Nov-Dec-2015_Pg 11_no bleed

FEATURE

These women — our friends, girlfriends and spouses — were quite the hit. The Belles of the (golf ) Ball, to be sure. They called themselves the Cart Tarts. Oh,Gods of Golf, please forgive us all.Those were our younger, more vulnerable years. And so we played. Teams were formed and trophies given to the winners. Each team kept its own score, in the great and honorable tradition of golf. There was no cheating, I am sure. I am quite sure. But there was a lot of messy going on. A whole lot of messy out there on that golf course that day for all the world to see. (Or, at least, everyone who drove through the park on Magazine Street that day.) First of all, a round of golf usually times out at about four hours, at the very most. We teed off at 9 a.m. that first year and the last group — mine — pulled up the 18 th green

the unfortunate and accidental incurrence of physical contact between a golf cart moving at low velocity and a woman not moving at all. Until struck by said golf cart moving at low velocity. But she was fine. I promise.) Most amazing of all is that the golf course let us come back and do it again the next year. And the next. And the next.This went on for many years. The numbers of players and Cart Tarts grew as the party engaged what I would term a “minor reputation” as a must-do Carnival season event. For silly people, at least. And then, one year, the Audubon Golf Club renovated its golf course. To the tune of $6 million. I mean, they did a bang-up job on that place.The former course could have been most generously described as a goat ranch. Lousy fairways, crummy greens, stinky sand traps, sputtering golf carts.Then again, it was a perfect place to host such debauchery; after all, what damage could we do?

and lush fairways and groomed greens and finely sifted traps and even a brand new fleet of top-of-the-line golf carts. I just had a feeling that day that things were not going to go well. And they didn’t. I’m not quite sure whether the straw that broke the camel’s back was when someone buried a flag in a sand trap or when someone else filled a hole with sand or when two Cart Tarts took to mock mud wrestling in the greenside sand trap on the 18 th hole. It could have been anything, really. But what it definitely was, was the last Thoth Classic Invitational Golf Tournament at the Audubon Golf Club. History shows that great traditions rise fast, burn bright and flame out gloriously. And ours was a great tradition. We got a good ten or twelve years of revelry and laughter in those crazy games of golf. Up until the course regulars and management stepped in to declare: “No mas!” But who could blame them?

at about 5:30 that afternoon. You do the math. It seems that somewhere along the way, etiquette broke down. Delays were caused. Mishaps occurred. Mistakes were made. Many beverages were consumed. And many, many rules were broken. And I’m not talking about rules of golf. I’m talking about the rules of a civil society.

I made a lot of great friends at the event. In later years, people who I had never even met before started showing up to play because they had heard about it from somebody in a bar the night before.They had a costume.They had clubs. Now that , people, is a great tradition.

“My parents use their Golf Carts for everything BUT golf. It’s a Gulf Coast thing. I’ve even seen people come get their groceries on them.” —Ali Rouse Royster, 3rd Generation

But only one person ended up in the emergency room. So all in all, you’d have to conclude that it was a success. (She was fine, by the way. Just a minor contusion caused by

Well, that question was answered the first — and last — year that we played on the newly renovated course.With it’s fine landscaping

That is the best party I ever threw.

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