LEGISLATIVE GOLF, GEORGE PATTON, AND GOOD WEATHER

 

                        LEGISLATIVE GOLF, GEORGE PATTON, AND GOOD WEATHER

by Mike Moffett 

Sports can be divisive. Yankees vs. Red Sox. Michigan vs. Ohio State. El Salvador vs. Honduras.

 

What?  

 

Yup. These two countries went to war in 1969 after El Salvador beat Honduras 3-2 in a FIFA World Cup (soccer) qualifier.

 

Then there was that preseason NFL game in San Francisco. After the 49ers hosted the Oakland Raiders, football “fans” got into some parking lot fights and several people were shot.

 

But sports can also bring folks together. Like when our USA Olympic ice hockey team beat the Soviets in 1980. That “Miracle on Ice” truly united Americans—from Maine to California to maybe even Hawaii!

 

A local example of sports bringing people together occurred on June 26 when Loudon Country Club hosted the Legislative Golf Classic. This “scramble” event brought together Republicans, Democrats, libertarians, vegetarians, males, females, friends, relatives, lobbyists, good golfers, bad golfers, young golfers, and older golfers. One participant even celebrated his 90^th birthday at LCC.

 

The golf event was a charity fund-raiser for Manchester’s Liberty House, which supports homeless and transitioning military veterans. I was happy to be on the event planning team as well as on a golf team—the Legislative Beer Caucus Founders.

 

As a former sports management professor, I know there are many crucial parts to these fundraisers. Numerous people must tend to many aspects including player/sponsor solicitations, publicity, registrations, goodie bags, signage, raffles, and contest monitoring. Someone must watch the Hole-in-One competition to document any aces worth $20,000. (Before buying clubhouse drinks for all.) And someone must supervise the all-important traveling beer cart and the all-important Beer Cart Girl.

 

(One may wonder why there are never Beer Cart Guys. And one can probably figure out why.)

 

Fortunately, LCC had the extremely capable Alina in charge of the extremely important traveling beer cart.

 

But there is one variable that even the best planners in the golf world struggle with.

 

The weather.

 

Ten days out I woke up and the first thing I did was check was the 10-day forecast. There was a 90% chance of precipitation on June 26. A couple days later an 80% chance. A couple days later there was a projected 100% chance of precipitation. My heart sank. It rained on a different golf scramble at LCC on June 24. The two-day forecast called for more rain on June 26.

 

Even the best golf planners can’t control the weather. Or can they?

 

I recalled that General George Patton summoned a chaplain during the darkest days of the Battle of the Bulge in 1944 and ordered him to come up with a prayer that would bring good weather for air support. Father James O’Neill was the chaplain who answered the call, and he wrote a beautifully solemn entreaty asking the Almighty to “restrain these immoderate rains with which we have had to contend.”

 

The skies cleared and the battle was won.

 

So, a la Father O’Neill, I offered up a weather prayer. I acknowledged that there were folks facing more dire situations than our scramble golfers. Certainly, the suffering people in Ukraine rated more divine intervention than our legislative linksters. But we wanted to bring folks of different political persuasions together to raise money for the homeless! I ultimately left things in the hands of the Great Greenskeeper in the Sky.

 

I awoke early on June 26 and looked out the window. It was cloudy but dry. And it stayed dry through the morning and into the afternoon, as Republicans and Democrats laughed it up, hitting golf balls up and down the hills of Loudon Country Club.

 

My foursome encountered the extremely capable Alina and the extremely important traveling beer cart at least four times in five hours. And we all hit at least a few good shots. Such fun.

 

And it stayed dry for the post-golf social, where Democrats and Republicans literally and figuratively embraced and laughed it up. We’d raised around $20,000—along with a few libations. After the final award was given, the legislative linksters headed for their cars when suddenly the heavens burst forth with heavy rain.

 

Perfect timing.

 

Somehow, I think Father O’Neill was watching from somewhere.

 

                                 Pictured in the LCC clubhouse after the Legislative Golf Classic was a foursome     

                                 which included State Senator Tim Lang of Sanbornton, State Representative Mike Moffett 

                                 of Loudon, LCC's Alina (who piloted the "refreshments" cart), State Senator Howard Pearl 

                                 of Loudon, and former State Representative Reed Panasiti of Amherst. The event raised 

                                 $20,000 for the cause.

BALTIMORE BASEBALL, BEER, POT, AND YAZ

                        BALTIMORE BASEBALL, BEER, POT, AND YAZ

The Granite State debate on marijuana legalization continues. There are many aspects to it all which we won’t get into here, except that—as with so many issues—there is a sports component.

 

Consider the outcry a couple years ago when American sprinter Sha’Carri Richardson faced disqualification from the Tokyo Olympics after testing positive for marijuana. She supposedly smoked pot after her mother’s tragic death.

 

Drug testing has abounded for decades. Most sports folks don’t want performance enhancers providing Russians with unfair advantages. And that’s also why home run king Barry Bonds’ steroid use keeps him out of Cooperstown’s Hall of Fame.

 

But is pot really a performance enhancer? The debate will continue.

 

Full disclosure: I’m not a fan of legalizing pot. I’m sure my low-tolerance for weed stems from being drug-tested for many years as a U.S. Marine.

 

Which brings us to Saturday, June 18, 1983, when I boarded a bus in Quantico, Va., along with 50 other Marine Corps lieutenants, to ride up to Baltimore’s Memorial Stadium for an Orioles game. The O’s were hosting my Red Sox and it was Carl Yastrzemski’s 23^rd and last season. I wanted to see Yaz play one more time.

 

Yes, there was beer on the bus. Would one expect differently from 50 young Marine Corps lieutenants out on liberty?

 

One of the pro-pot arguments is “Alcohol is worse!” Prohibition failed! But there are many differences. Comparing pot to booze is like comparing apples to oranges.

 

Anyway, we fifty Marines sat as a group in Memorial Stadium’s upper deck, on the first base side—where we’d hopefully avoid trouble. But I was pleased to discover that, unlike Fenway Park, Memorial Stadium had a liberal beer policy. One could buy two 24-ouncers at the same time! The O’s treated beer drinkers as adults

 

After making an early inning head call, I walked back towards the upper deck when I saw a beer vendor strapping on a giant tray with numerous libations to sell in the stands. This inspired an idea.

 

“Yo! Beer vendor. I’ll sell those beers for you!”

 

The beer vendor laughed and explained that such action would surely be frowned upon.

 

“But I’m with those Marines up there. I’ll sell every beer in no time.”

 

The beer vendor laughed and said okay, but he’d need to follow me at a discrete distance.

 

“Excellent!”

 

I strapped on his giant tray and donned his beer vendor cap and started up the steps, hawking brewksis.

 

“Beer!” I yelled. “Get your beer here!”

 

After a couple sales I was inevitably recognized by my Marine brethren, who naturally cracked up.

 

“Moffett is selling beer!”

 

As predicted, the Marines immediately bought all I had. I returned to the tunnel and gave the delighted beer vendor a bunch of money, loaded up the tray again and went up and again sold out. The section of Marines gave me a standing ovation, which drew the attention of many of the 36,668 attendees. What was going on up there on the upper deck?

 

(The Orioles drew good crowds in 1983 and would win the World Series that year.)

 

I was fortunate that all this beer business predated social media. A viral video of me selling lots of beer in the Memorial Stadium stands may not have enhanced my military career. And my friendly beer vendor would likely have been fired.

 

Still, it was such fun. But there’s more.

 

Sitting a few rows behind us near the top of the stadium were some hippies. Midway through the game the hippies did what hippies do. They started smoking pot. This immediately got the attention of fifty regularly drug-tested, buff and burly Marine Corps officers—all quite concerned that inhaling second-hand pot smoke might end their careers.

 

Our group turned and stood as one to confront the hippies. A big Texan with a deep voice yelled “You G--- D--- hippies better stop smoking that pot or we’ll throw your asses over the top of the stadium!”

 

Peer pressure? Or beer pressure?

 

Rather than confront 50 agitated Marines who were clearly ready to rumble, the hippies decided that discretion was the better part of valor and wisely moved to another part of Memorial Stadium to get stoned. All the commotion must have drawn the attention of many of the 36,668 attendees. What was going on up there?

 

Marines on liberty. Always an adventure.

 

It was a night to remember. Jim Rice hit a homer and BoSox pitcher John Tudor went all the way to win 3-2.

 

And I got to see Carl Yaztrzemski in action one last time. The 44-year-old future Hall-of Famer walked twice. He would hit ten home runs that season to finish his career with 452 round-trippers.

 

And I’m also pretty sure that not one of Yaz’s 3419 career hits was aided by any performance enhancer, whether imbibed, injected, or inhaled!

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