Coming From Behind Ch. 03-04

Catherine was next and hit a nine iron that was also right on line and hit a few feet short of the pin and rolled by, nearly hitting the flagstick. She had a cinch birdie from five feet or less I reckoned.

Harry was next and hit a flyer out of the rough with a nine iron, pulling the ball left and over the green. He was not pleased if his muttered curses were any indication.

The sun had come out from behind the clouds and the temperature began to rise. At the same time a breeze picked up, giving us something else to think about. As I looked around I began to see what was a beautiful setting for a golf course. Fairly flat but well treed, textured fairways and greens, and in excellent condition. There was no sign of winter damage. As the round progressed I thought that this would be a club where I'd be happy to be a member.

At the turn, Catherine was one over par thanks to a nasty lie in a trap on the fifth hole and a couple of missed putts. One double bogey, one bogey, and two birdies. I couldn't tell if she was happy or not. She had the professional demeanor that didn't give away much of her emotions.

I was four over par, better than I expected. Catherine's help and suggestions had paid off and prevented mistakes I otherwise would have made. I used the hybrid on the sixth, eighth, and ninth and I was very happy with the results. It was now definitely the permanent replacement for the three iron. I misjudged a couple of putts that cost me and underclubbed myself twice from the fairway. Just the same, I played well.

We stopped for a brief snack at the tenth, then pressed on with our game. Both Bill and Harry were playing a bit over their handicaps. Apparently they hadn't played here before but wouldn't allow themselves to ask Catherine for advice. Bad decision, I thought. I guess that's a "guy thing," she would say. I had no compunction about asking for advice. She knew this course intimately and that was worth several strokes to me. As we played I had a chance to talk to her a bit. She was the younger of two girls. Her sister was married with two children and living in Boise, Idaho, while her parents still lived in Eugene. Her father ran a small appliance business and her mother was a part-time librarian. Catherine, often known as Cat to her friends, was the only college educated person in the family.

She stood about five-seven or eight I guessed and well built in all respects. Her hair was a dark blonde which complemented her tan. It was pretty early in the year for her to have a tan like that. I assumed it had come from somewhere south. She was wearing the typical knee length shorts with tall stockings and a long-sleeved shirt with a vest. By the tenth hole she had shed the vest and I could see a fairly prominent chest. That came as a bit of a surprise.

I suppose I have to admit to being both a chauvinist and maybe a bigot. I had heard stories about women golfers. You know the ones: "Dykes in Spikes" and so on. It was pretty clear that Catherine was neither lesbian nor a mindless athlete. She was, as far as I could tell, a down-to-earth young woman trying to decide what to do about her future. That element put us in the same boat. We were both looking for the same thing.

"How long do you plan to stay in this area, Terry?" she asked as we sat waiting our turn at the par three fifteenth.

"Well, to be honest, I'm just looking for a reason to quit looking ... if that makes sense. I've been on the road for over two weeks and although it's been interesting I'm about ready to stop for a while and smell the coffee."

"What do you want to do if you do stop?"

"I want to look around for a business to buy. I want to find something that will interest me, satisfy me and allow me to run a business the way I think it should be run."

She sat for a few moments without saying anything, then, "Ever thought about owning a golf course?"

"No ... not for a moment. I'm not quite that well off and I'm not sure what it would take to make one profitable."

"The one thing I know about having an MBA is that it teaches you how to run a business," she said seriously. "A golf course is a business. It relies on membership, a good reputation and being kept in good playing condition."

"Don't forget cash flow," I offered.

"There you go ... it's a business." She was smiling and I was wondering where this was leading. Only one way to find out.

"So tell me, Catherine, which golf course is for sale?"

She laughed. "Was I that obvious? Yeah ... there is a course for sale over on the east side in Gresham. Some speculators bought it thinking they could convert it into property development. But the people in the area raised holy hell about that and the council wouldn't give them a permit to subdivide. So ... they've pretty well abandoned it and are trying to cut their losses by selling it."

"How do you know all this?"

"I have a friend over there that's running the place. He's thinking the club will die and God knows what will happen to it if it does. He's almost sixty and doesn't know what he'll do if it closes."

"What do these guys want for it?" I asked, now curious.

"I don't know for sure but word is they're desperate to get out from under it. They are speculators and I hear they just want to cut their losses and move onto the next project. There was talk that the county might buy it for future parkland but they couldn't get the council to go along and that idea died. Right now everything is lying dormant."

"Huh." It was all I could think of saying at that point. But ... it did set off some thinking. What would it cost to buy the property? How much would it cost to restore it to operating shape? What was the likelihood of it being a profitable venture? I think Catherine could almost hear the gears grinding and elected to say no more.

We finished the game with Catherine an easy winner, just as I expected. I finished second with an eighty-two, only one stroke over my handicap. I attributed my success to playing more often, my very handy new hybrid and, of course, Catherine's help.

Bill and Harry didn't fare so well and, since there was no money on the game, we parted afterward when they declined to join us for a celebratory drink. Catherine, however, was quite happy to share a sandwich and a glass of wine while I had a beer.

"I learned a lot from you today, Catherine. Thank you. I'll be back tomorrow to see if can put it into action again."

"You're welcome. It was a pleasure to play with you."

"Thank you, but I don't know your last name."

"It's Walston, like the old-time TV actor. No relation though."

"Well, Catherine, what do you do these days when you're not playing on the tour?"

"Not much but practice. I've got some résumés out looking for a job. I have a degree in business administration but so far no bites."

"So," I ventured, "the ideal job for you would be a management position at a golf course." I was grinning as I said.

"Well ... I don't know about management, but something along those lines. That would be great."

We sat quietly for a while before I spoke again.

"Do you know who to talk to about this golf course that's for sale?"

She looked at me with wide eyed surprise. "Are you thinking of getting involved?"

I shrugged. "Not sight unseen. But maybe if you and I went over there and had a look-see I might want to talk to the owners and see what they've got in mind."

"You want me to go with you?"

"Sure. You know something about the place and you said you had a friend there. That would certainly help to get accurate and helpful information. We'd have to start somewhere."

"We would?"

"Yeah. You did say you could see yourself working at a golf course in a management position didn't you?"

"Well ... we were just talking hypothetically ... weren't we?"

"Yeah ... but when hypothetical becomes reality ... well then you have to decide," I smiled.

"Are you really serious about this?"

"Absolutely. I have some funds and I have access to firms that can supply funds if the investment is sound. That's one of the advantages of having been in the business I was in. Most of the time we had to find money to make some of those mergers work. I know where to look for low cost capital and it isn't at a bank."

"You're not kidding about this are you?" she said, more as a statement than a question.

"No ... I'm very serious. I love golf. You love golf. I assume your friend loves golf. If we can make this work as a business think of how much enjoyment we could get out of it."

She was shocked into silence. I don't think she really understood I was seriously considering the possibility. She was trying to get her head around it and it just wouldn't fit. At least ... not yet.

"Are you free tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"Would you join me and show me the course and introduce me to your friend. I think we should play a round just to get an up-close look at the place. Can you do that?"

She nodded, still wide-eyed in amazement.

"Can I pick you up? I'm staying at the Embassy Suites in Tigard."

"Oh ... okay ... here ... I'll give you my address in Lake Oswego. Do you need a map?"

"Nope. I've got a navigation unit in my car. What time?"

"It doesn't matter. They aren't very busy, especially during the week. I'll call Scotty and let him know we're coming. Should I say anything about why?"

"No ... not yet. It's premature and it may turn out to be an impossible project. So, better to keep it to ourselves until we find out more. That okay with you?"

"Yeah ... sure. But ... I've got to admit ... you've got me excited about the idea. I never dreamed I might get involved in saving the place. I don't know whether I'm going to sleep tonight just thinking about it."

"It's just an idea right now, Catherine. Let's stay calm and wait and see what we learn tomorrow and then we can find out who owns it and what they want for it."

"Okay," she smiled, "I'll try. I guess I should thank Matt for putting you in our foursome today. If I'd never met you we might never have discussed the possibility."

"That's the way it works sometimes. Serendipity. It happens like that in big business too. A casual word to someone who is listening and knows someone else who might want to talk. You'd be surprised. Anyway, how does ten o'clock tomorrow morning sound? I don't want you to miss your beauty sleep."

"Hah! Some chance. I'm usually up by six or six-thirty."

"Ah ... an early riser. That's something else we have in common. So, I'll see you tomorrow morning at ten at your place."

To Be Continued