The trophy
Three years ago when we were on a bed and breakfast tour of Nova Scotia a cousin gave us a plastic plate decorated with pictures of Don Messer and his Islanders. We brought it home and our Maritime-born son-in-law made it the feature of an elegant oak golf trophy.
Since then this “Jubilee” trophy has been the prize for a family golf competition. So far there are only five of us competing but since we have nine grandchildren, eight of them boys, I suspect it will become a major sporting event.
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Perhaps we can get it designated so that Canadian Professional Golf Association points can be awarded.
This, of course, will only occur when we stop continuously knocking branches off trees and rearranging sand every two or three feet in sand traps.
This year we played a course with only one water hazard. It was directly in front of the tee-off place and its surface was covered with a thick coating of green algae. Any ball penetrating that slimy surface was a writeoff. Adding to the case of nerves was the next group of golfers watching and waiting their turn.
One ball did find its way into the slithy tove causing no end of palpitations for a foraging duck. The duck wasn’t quite as disturbed as the golfer who mis-hit the ball. However, the second-try teeoff cleared the pond.
The only redeeming feature about a golf tournament is all the lies you tell at the barbecue you stage as a finale for the day.
The sand traps become six feet deep and the slimy pond a real maneater.
But the Messer Jubilee trophy is a splendid conversation piece on the mantel.
