COLOURFUL CHARACTERS
When you hear this expression it conjures up the image of those who are at least shady or even crooked. This is not the case here. Instead, it refers to those who have made our golfing experience memorable usually by consistently making us laugh. Even when it is at them it is done with affection. Nearly all of us can be mundane; few of us can shine a light brightly; these can. Oh, and no, they were not, “helping the police with their enquiries.” It was their mates who gave the game away.
Where to begin is obvious: John Blake, three times Club champion from the sixties and who may well have been the first Drouin golfer to win the West Gippsland title. His battles with the Warragul champion, John Bannon, were legendary. However, this doesn’t make him colourful by my definition.
He was a famous figure off the course. He loved a drink and a good time. Shane tells of the time when Jack Stroud finally got him out of the Clubhouse after a long session only for him to drive his car straight into a culvert. He managed to persuade a grumpy Jack to use the tractor to tow him out. While Jack was doing this he returned to Club House to slake his thirst. Jack finally got the car out. And John’s response? He promptly drove the car into the culvert a second time.
Shane had two other stories to relate. One year they were both in the West Gippsland team for Country Week and staying in a pub on Port Phillip Bay. For practice, John simply opened the front door and calmly proceeded to hit golf balls across Beach Road while the traffic whizzed by. On another occasion, with the starting time for an important match approaching, the sudden squeal of brakes relieved the tension. It was John just getting home from last night’s party and with just enough time to change into his golf gear.
The Robbins’ family have produced two characters, although it would be fairer to say that only one was colourful because the other is serial pest. Eric is the pest. On the course he is like a magician pulling rabbits out of a hat with shots that can only be described as unfair – especially to those who hitherto have had his measure and money is on the line. This will serve as an example.
Gates are for keeping undesirables like Eric Robbins out. They are not for keeping his ball in play. On the 10th his woeful tee shot hit the single wire strand of the gate on the right about 50 metres from the tee. Not a good shot. The ricochet hit the uprights not once but twice before hitting the ground. Not only was the ball still in play but worse the ball landed in GUR and he was entitled to a free drop. Some sanity prevailed when he struggled with his approach shots but still had the chance for a point if he made a tricky 2 metre putt. Well, you can guess what happened: he nailed the putt.
Ken Cooper has suffered more than most at his antics and so I was absolutely delighted when he came up with this observation which managed to skewer two of my golfing mates: “Many would remember Lea Caldwell’s pre-shot routine; Eric Robbins is the poor man’s Lea.”
There really ought to be a law against people like Eric. Enough. I shudder to think about it so let’s turn to the more interesting one, John, unfortunately no longer with us.
John was a reader – and a boxer. Sorry if I have offended anyone but to my mind they are strange bedfellows. It’s a bit like champion Hawthorn footballer and now coach, Sam Mitchell, having a library.
John’s forte was what for most of us would be trick shots but for him were par for the course. I will start with a relatively mundane effort but given he could have killed me I shall recount it. When he teed up on the 4th one day the club slipped and shot backwards narrowly missing me. I will say towards the head for dramatic effect but it was probably the body.
One of John’s many talents though was to hit the ball backwards. Anthony tried to explain the physics to me one day but apparently it involves hitting down on the front of the ball thus imparting backspin. And playing partners watching out. It must have inspired Tony Appleby. On the 16th one day his drive went backwards one inch. His next shot went backwards another six inches. You have to wonder about his game plan. This is a little different but because Colin Hunt abused me one day for hitting one of “his trees” – what a cheek – I will include it anyway. On the 12th he thrashed his ball 30 metres into a tree on the left. The ricochet missed everyone but landed 7 metres behind the tee. His next shot dribbled on to the Ladies’ tee. Why would you do this just to get a good lie?
To be fair most of us are capable for these sorts of shots but John was in a class of his own with this effort. Playing the 16th one day he took an enormous divot. The ball shot straight up into the air and then landed on the divot which obliged by wrapping itself around the ball. His playing companions were helpless with laughter.
Now I know that many of you will stop reading when I mention the name of Doug Scott. You will say that he is neither colourful nor a character. Colourful, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder so I am willing to debate this. There is no doubt though that he is a character and here is the proof. Why did so many of you try to take the micky out of him? Affection surely.
Now to the serious stuff.
OK, what about the time he was ready to play the old second (the water hole on the old new nine) and saying, “It is about time I had another hole-in-one here”? And then actually doing it. Unfortunately, these weren’t Doug’s exact words. It was more along the lines of the more boring, “I had an ace here.” Still, I have been happy to promote this rumour because it is exactly what he could have said. The Americans call it chutzpa. At least he will go to his grave knowing he was the only Drouin golfer to score an ace twice on this difficult par three. I have always wanted the hole to be called, “The Doug Scott Memorial.” Only two things have stopped this: the hole no longer exists and Doug is not dead.
One day, he told Anthony that he had found a really good putter but it was for right handers. He wanted the shaft to be rotated for a left hander. (Only laugh if you have thought about it.) And speaking of Anthony what about this. For years the two of them had a bet involving the Saints and the Cats until it became too much for Doug when he found himself forking out all of the time. Anthony offered to call it quits if Doug coughed up $50. Doug accepted. Surely, this is the equivalent to changing your football allegiance. Although I hate the expression it is applicable here: this is un-Australian.
There are plenty of other stories but time is running out. Maybe this explains the affection we hold for him and it concerns Ox who also gave us plenty to laugh at. It is rumoured that he once disposed of a troublesome magpie on the first. If true, shame on him. The bird is protected. And anyway, why would a Hawthorne supporter wish ill on Collingwood? But back to Doug who always enjoyed the 19th hole where he had a captive audience. One day he happily hopped in his car and returned home – minus his golf cart which Ox had unhooked. Of course, he didn’t notice until sometime later. The boys gave him a right royal salute when he returned to collect the cart.
He was, and is, a colourful character.
I wanted to add Ritchie Thomas, who was undoubtedly a character but maybe not a colourful one, and Merv Peel, who was certainly colourful but maybe not a character. I have high hopes for Duart Perrin but shudder to think about having to write about him. Save me the agony by letting me know of your personal favourites. Randall doesn’t know it yet but he will be happy to pass it on.
George Shand
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