Page 70 - MN

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Jim was officially the pro, and we had some very good golfers as assistant pros. Rafe Botts was a tall black guy who could really play. John and Ron Lott were brothers who both got on the tour but didn't last long. Larry O'leary was another fine golfer from San Francisco, and I'm forgetting the name of the guy who became the head pro at Round Hills Country Club up by San Jose. He was a great guy and great golfer and I hate it that I can't remember his name.
I'd been under the delusion that I was a pretty good golfer, but once I met those guys I realized I wasn't in the same universe. They could all break par and I broke 80 about twice a year. And they all tried for the PGA tour and didn't make it, so it was pretty humbling.
On the other hand, we had great times at the golf course, drinking beer after work, playing the tee game to see who paid. I can't even remember what the tee game is now, but I remember laughing a lot. In the evening we had to take the golf carts down to the barn so we'd each jump in one and play nine holes. You haven't played golf until you've raced 15 other carts down a hole, hitting shots whenever you got to your ball. Fun.
We also got to play all the great courses in the area--Pebble Beach, Cyprus Point, Monterey Peninsula and all the others. I was also singing in town and carousing with my friends so my army experience was quite a ride. So much so, that I almost missed my discharge day. No one told me that you get out one day before the date you came in. People were searching all over the base trying to find me so I could get discharged. I, of course, was playing golf.
This was also about the time I met Clint Eastwood.
One night when I was singing at the Mission Inn la Cantina, someone asked me if I wanted to play golf with Clint Eastwood. At the time, he wasn't the megastar he is today. He was a local, starring in the TV series, Rawhide. Well, that was a pretty big deal and I was excited.
The day before the game, the bartender at the Cantina asked me if I'd ever lifted weights and I said no. He took me to his place and we spent some time in his garage lifting weights. No big deal, right?
The next day I got up to play golf with Clint Eastwood and two other guys at Pebble Beach and I realized I couldn't lift my arms above my waist. Seriously. I got to the course and we played. I tried everything to loosen up, but I could only take a half swing and the ball was flying into parking lots, the ocean, and the yards of the mansions bordering the course. I had a stunningly horrible day, was totally embarrassed, and for some reason Clint never asked me to play with him again.
Much later in life I was opening for Johnny Mathis in Las Vegas and they had a high roller night, when they invited all the mega gamblers to the show.