The Bully Pulpit Clubhouse
Finally. After a month of manning a fire hose or a broom sized squeegie I’ve traded one end of the spectrum for another. I have altered my attire from waterproof coveralls, rubber gloves and galoshes for slacks, a polo shirt, and golf jacket. Graduation has come. The mud-ladened maintenance building and silted fairways have been replaced by a clubhouse, a personal golf cart and walkie-talkie. My position as starter and player assistant began yesterday. And after one month, today was the first day that I have toured the course, and have seen every hole. My world was relegated to three fairways and greens mired in the muddy waters of the Little Missouri. It’s a welcome alteration to adorn myself with clean clothes in the morning and interacting with people as opposed to pumps and skid loaders. I will delve more into my new digs in future posts but the Bully Pulpit Golf Course had to be one of the most magnificent these eyes have engulfed. My day begins at different hours dependent upon the first foursome out. That can range anytime between 7a.m. and 10a.m. After checking the roster of tee times, I grab my radio, man my golf cart and head to the box tees on hole #1. Every ten minutes I greet a new group of golfers, relaying the rules, answering any questions and making them feel as much a celebrity as possible. It’s Madison Avenue schmooz at its best and so far, it’s coming quite naturally for me.