Clyde Canup and a few of his golf buddies decided to plan a trip to Callaway Gardens for a weekend getaway. To their surprise this tradition, now known as the “Canup Invitational”, is still going strong. The venue has changed but the spirit Mr. Canup left behind remains thanks to people like Gene Chronic, Dave Ahers and Glen Chronic (Gene’s son). Thanks to Glen and his strategic cabinet this tournament is alive and well and runs like a well oiled machine.
The format is what’s known in the golf world as a dogfight. You accumulate points based on what you score each hole. For instance: 1 – BOGEY, 2-PAR, 3-BIRDIE AND 4-EAGLE OR HOLE IN ONE. The object is to score as many points possible during the 3 day tournament.
Which brings me to the most anticipated part of the tournament – the infamous Calcutta. This happens prior to the tournament usually around 9:00am before our noon tee time on Friday. This is where you find out who your friends really are. Calcutta is a live human action where each golfer is bought many times until the highest bidder goes once, twice, sold. That’s right. Someone owns you and all $$$ you may win for the weekend. It gets worse. You are then required to buy half of said purchase price hoping you play well enough to receive half of the money you may win. This is a way to raise $$$ for prizes. In most cases it is designed to create commodity and humor during the weekend unless you have, as in my case, an over zealous owner (Don). After finding myself in second place on the first day, I was feeling pretty well about the weekend having shaken the first day jitters and played pretty good. That’s until I saw Don (my owner) at dinner. After the normal congratulations that a boy greeting I notice he seemed to be how can I say it very attentive to my choice of beverage.
It gets worse I played even better on Saturday and found myself in first place going into the final round on Sunday. Now not only was Don concerned about my choose of beverage but he now wanted to know what I was eating and what my ETA TO bed was going to be. After the third text that night, I finally said I thought this weekend was supposed to be fun and relaxing. He’s response as you can imagine went something like this: You can have all the fun you want when you get back home. I own you this weekend and fun is not in the equation. Now get you’re a—to bed. WOW. Therefore, I did and yes, I won in a close one tied with two other golfers in a score card playoff. That’s right first place right in front of my Sandbagging buddy Todd. How sweet it is.
Speaking of buddies, I brought three with me to relish in my victory. They were so proud of me and supportive of my nightly decisions to be good a get to bed early etc.… Yea right the first night the security guard found my buddy Charlie “ who came all the way from Oklahoma” lying in the front yard where apparently” Potty Mouth” decided to let him exit the cart before it stopped moving on there way home at only God and the security guy knows what time. I could go on and on with these types of stories over the weekend but I decided to save a few incase I’m in need of material in future articles. Let’s just say Glen made a speech thinking every one for coming new and old and inviting everyone back even Charlie just as long as he promises to wear a hard hat next time. Something about their insurance
Till Next Tee Time