Of widows, orphans and premature obituaries
NEVER mind what was erroneously reported – possibly on these pages – but coaching guru Muss Gammon is still alive and chipping! I can safely say that I saw the golf legend in the flesh, at the 13th annual SAPS Widows and Orphans Golf Day, hosted by Mike Procter.
Happily, Gammon took the premature obituary in the very best of spirits, and is currently in the midst of doing some terrific work in the development of aspirant golfers from all walks of life. But the folly of the mighty pen is forever marked – especially by the predatory instincts of MC (Milker of Catastrophes) extraordinaire, Dan Nicholl.
The relentless Mr Nicholl was in charge of proceedings on Friday night at Mount Edgecombe, and he was like a dog on the bone about the gambit about the masterly Muss. All’s well that ends well of course, and it was all part of a fantastic cause.
I first came across the Widows and Orphans initiative six years ago, and have been to every event since. The assortment of sporting personalities who turn up and lend their support is incredible, especially in the current climate of unabated violence against our protectors. While the golf itself is usually full of the usual thrills and spills, most of the fun is at the 19th hole, where hundreds of thousands are raised to fill one of the most necessary kitty baskets in the land.
There was a poignant piece read during the dinner, which challenged all of us to look at life from the perspective of a policeman or policewoman. It urged us to consider what it must be like to leave home for work, and be unsure whether you will be home eight or nine hours later, like ‘normal people’.
Not many of us face imminent danger in our professional capacity but, given the propensity for violence and anarchy on our streets and homes, being in the police force ought to come with danger pay. Mind you, some of the shots on the golf course by our men in blue were heading towards grievous bodily harm!
In all, over R400 000 was raised through donations and an auction of some terrific memorabilia, and much fun was had in the name of golf and hope. It is causes and initiatives such as these that restore faith and hope that we can turn things around as a country, and really make a difference where it matters.
One of the members of my fourball arrived with his regular caddie, and it didn’t take long for me to realise that it was a relationship that had flourished over years. For starters, the caddie was comfortable enough to berate every errant shot, though his player gave as good as he got.
That caddie, who insisted we call him Lucky – on account of all the good fortune (and excellent lines) he provided us – was treated as part of a five-ball, rather than an extra amongst four players. He was involved in the gentle ribbing all day, and added fully to a wonderful afternoon.
Having attended my fair share of these corporate golf days, it was illuminating to see such a relaxed atmosphere between Lucky and his main player, and the energy they shared bounced off the rest of us.
There were hallelujah putts from all over the place, as our man from the force came to life on the back nine!
Our frightful charge on the back nine almost hurtled us to the top of the standings, but the results don’t really matter on these occasions.
It’s the cause. And even though yours truly left with considerable egg on my face, I know the sun will shine again tomorrow. And, bravely, men and women will leave their homes to protect ours and our families. They are heroes, one and all.