I am Mashie Niblick. I am presently employed as the greenskeeper of the Hoity Toity Golf Club in the big city of Tracy. The government paid for my enrollment at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) and then I became an agent in the espionage business. I became a greenskeeper out of the need for a cover story, and I enjoyed the job and my latest name and the woman who knew me by no other name… Okay, my entire life I dreamed of finding someone named Pauline and being the guy who came to the rescue, as in The Perils of Pauline. It was my thing, and maybe a goofy thing. I entitle these stories as my wife’s misadventures. But in these misadventures, I usually arrive after she has solved the problem.
Pauline was not in any trouble. She was having a therapy session with Silly Johns, by herself, not even Silly’s mother observing. Andew was taking a nap. And I asked Baffy to come with me to the garage.
I squatted down to her level. “Baffy, I want to give you a present.”
Baffy furrowed her brow. “Is it Christmas already?! We didn’t put up a tree yet.”
I laughed, “I just want to give you a present. That’s all. I have been working on it all summer. Remember when I told you to hold a stick and then I showed you how to swing the stick at a nerf ball?”
She nodded, “Yeah! I hit the nerf ball really good!”
I nodded, “Yes, you did, but I was really measuring the length of the stick so that I could make a full set of golf clubs for you. I even have a baffing spoon, the golf club you are named after.”
Baffy smiled, “Really!? And I can have my present before Christmas or my birthday?”
I nodded, “Yes, you can. Your birthday is a week after Christmas. It would be silly giving you golf clubs when you can’t go out on the course and play. We can go to the back yard, and I can see how well you hit the ball. I have some range balls from work, so if we lose a couple there is no big loss.”
I pulled out a box from one of the storage cabinets. And then, I pulled the fully loaded golf bag out of the box.
Baffy started dancing. “It looks just like Mommy’s but it’s shorter. Did you get clubs for Ibie too?”
I felt my heart slam into my throat. I said, “Baffy, I know she is your best friend…”
Baffy corrected me, “She is my twin friend. We do everything together. We are in Pre-K. That means Pre-Kindergarten. Next Fall, we advance to Kindergarten, together, at the same time. So, doesn’t she get golf clubs? Is she on Santa’s nice list or naughty list?”
I sighed, “Let me make a phone call. You can look at your bag and the clubs.”
Baffy started taking the clubs out of the bag. She started announcing the numbers of the irons.
I called Poached, “Hey, Poached, I was just having some fun with Baffy. I spent all summer making a set of golf clubs for Baffy. She is almost four, and Tiger Woods was playing full golf courses at three. But she does not want to play unless Ibie has her set of clubs. We need to sit both girls down and talk about this thing. It is cute, but they need to know that they are not related. We definitely cannot buy every big purchase for each of them to be like their twin.”
Poached said, “I agree, but I have you on speaker and Ibie is begging Callie for golf clubs. You said you spent all summer, and it must have cost a pretty penny. Then, there are the green fees.”
I said, “For now, let’s just think about the clubs. We have a strict rule that everyone has to have their own set of clubs. I can work out a deal with the starter. I think we aren’t going to have Baffy playing every hole at first. We have the children hours where the course is shutdown for member play to let the children play. It’s mostly children of members, but we have a few First Tee kids. The First Tee crowd uses a public course near where you used to live. The ones that excel there are allowed to play at the Hoity Toity. First Tee starts at age five. With me being the greenskeeper, I was hoping to get Baffy on the course to play a few holes before the time changes back to standard time.”
Poached said, “I was asked to be a First Tee coach, but since I don’t play, I turned it down. I hear the coaches have as much fun as the kids do. Ibie won’t be four for another week. And our joint incomes would disqualify us for First Tee.”
Ibie said, “Daddy, I want to play. Can I?”
Callie sighed, “Yes, we need to sit down with the children. They need to develop their own identities. But having a game to play together would be good. Can we purchase the clubs on an installment plan?”
I said, “Sure, since these first few rounds will just be a few holes, the par-3 holes, except for the island hole, and the short part fours. But then we can play on the putting and pitching greens just about any time.” You won’t be charged green fees, and I can have them share Baffy’s clubs. I have them custom made for Baffy, but Ibie is about the same size. The starter won’t mind if they only play on selective holes, and we can ride the carts. The idea with sharing clubs comes in when you are a great distance apart and you wait to get the club you need. Then maybe before golf starts back in the Spring, I can make some clubs for Ibie. Embroidered name on the golf bag, the works.”
Callie said, “Mashie, we will find a way to pay you. We just bought a house, but we sold the warehouse. We have the money, but we’ll have to shuffle things around. Then, when green fees become an issue, we might have to reconsider. But if they don’t like playing, we don’t want to be invested too heavily.”
I said, “I understand. I am going to try Baffy out in the backyard. If she gets frustrated, she might not want to play. I’ll let you know.”
When I ended the call, Baffy asked, “Can Ibie play?”
I smiled, “The word is ‘may’ Ibie play. And the answer is ‘yes.’ But we are going out into the backyard and see if you can play.”
I said, “Let’s put this stick on the ground, and we can point it at the trees at the bottom of our yard.”
Baffy asked, “Do you want me to hit the ball into the creek?”
I laughed, “No, Baffy. Part of golf, once you understand how to play, is to hit the ball the right distance, not just a long way. We are going to use the pitching wedge. I’m thinking if you hit the ball right, you might hit it into the woods or even the creek. But once we lose all the balls our fun will be over. When I first met your Mommy, I had never finished the golf course. I would lose all the balls that I had found in the woods.”
Baffy gasped, “You played golf with lost golf balls?”
I nodded, “I was working undercover. I pretended to be a homeless man, and I helped the greenskeeper at the Hoity Toity club while I was trying to get evidence that a very bad man was a member of the club. So, I would go out at night and pick up lost golf balls. I could go during the day, but then people would see me. Besides, Mark Twain said, ‘It’s good sportsmanship to not pick up lost golf balls while they are still rolling.’ You need to remember that when you are playing on the golf course. You would be surprised when you think there is no one else around and a golf ball rolls past you. My advice is to leave it alone.”
Baffy gasped, “Daddy, were you homeless?”
I nodded, “Yes, but I did that on purpose to catch a bunch of bad guys.”
Baffy asked, “Did you catch them?”
I nodded, “They killed a friend of mine, but with the help of your Mommy, I got the information to the police. Then, Uncle Dev caught the bad guys. Only one bad guy was out of town, and when he returned, GrandPa caught him.”
Baffy nodded, “You are a good daddy.”
I smiled, “Enough of that. So here is your stick. Put your toes next to the stick.”
Baffy said, “I can’t see my toes unless I take my shoes off.”
I sighed, “Keep your shoes on, Baffy. Have the toes of your shoes barely touch the stick.”
Baffy said, “Daddy, I have never seen you use a stick.”
I smiled, “I am using the stick so that you line up your feet the right way. Then we can see how far away from the ball you have to stand. All your clubs are different lengths. So, you are going to have to learn where to stand because other than the tee, you play the ball where it lies.”
Baffy huffed, “It sure sounds like it’s a hard game to play.”
I smiled, “When you get the feel of it, you won’t even have to think about this stuff.”
I handed her the Pitching Wedge.
Baffy asked, “What does PW say?”
I said, “This is your pitching wedge. If you hit the ball correctly, the ball will go high in the air and land before it reaches the trees. If you consistently land in the same area short of the trees, we might switch to the nine or the eight.”
Baffy asked, “Why do I have two fives?”
I smiled, “The big stick is a brassie. I did not make you a driver. A brassie is more like a number two metal. It’s the one with the big head. The five with a big head is a Baffing Spoon, just like your name. It’s really more like a cross between a five metal and a six metal. I made the clubs with a little more loft. You won’t hit the ball as far, but you will have better control once you know how to hit the ball. Now the other five is the five with a blade head. That is the five iron which was the Mashie in the old days. The nine iron is the Niblick. So, the big five and the little nine make up your name, Baffing Spoon Niblick.”
Baffy asked, “Which one is the Mashie Niblick?”
I smiled, “That’s the seven iron. Now let’s learn about addressing the ball.”
Baffy looked at the ball and she asked, “Daddy, is the ball a boy or a girl?”
I sighed, “It’s a ball, Baffy. I do not think they worry much about the gender of the ball.”
Baffy said, “But if I dress the ball, I want to know if I should get a dress or pants!”
I laughed, “No, Baffy, not dressing, addressing. You don’t hit the ball yet. But you have the club meet the ball to make sure you are lined up right.”
Baffy dropped the ball fairly close to where she needed to hit the ball. “Hello, Ball, how are you today?”
About this time, I was wondering if my labor of love all summer long had been worth it.
I shook my head, “No Baffy, bring the club head to a point right behind the ball. You need to check to see if that is square.”
Baffy looked at me with a concerned look on her face. “Daddy, we learned shapes in preschool. Miss Madelaine is a good teacher. And a ball is round.”
I laughed, “No, the club is square with the ball.”
Baffy was still confused, “I looked at all the clubs in the golf bag, and there is not a single club that is square. I hope Miss Madelaine covers what these shapes are this year because I don’t have a clue!”
I smiled, “Okay it is not a square, but look at the ball. … Now loosen your grip on the club.” I twisted the club face to open the club face so that the toe of the club was behind the heel at impact. “This is an open club face. If you hit the ball like this, the flight of the ball would curve to the right. That is called a slice.” I reversed the alignment. “This is a closed club face. If you hit the ball this way, the ball would curve to the left. That is called a hook.”
Baffy gasped, “I don’t want to do that. That’s where Beauty and the puppies are.”
I snickered, “That would be a very bad hook. But we don’t want to hit golf balls into the Jamison’s yard.” I squared the club face with the direction she wanted the ball to go. “Now this is square. Think about the square you learned about in preschool. Each corner of the square had the same angle. If you see the direction of where the ball is supposed to go and the face of the club sort of look like the corner of that square or the corner of your bedroom in the house…”
Baffy said, “I checked my room. It’s a rectangle.”
I nodded, “Let’s go with that. You ‘rectangle’ the ball with the club face. Now, grip it tightly. Let me step out of the way. … Now, draw the club back and swing at the ball.”
Baffy did as she was told. Then she leaned up on her tiptoes and looked at the backyard.
I asked, “What are you doing, Baffy?”
Baffy said, “I must have hit the ball into the creek. I’m looking for the ball and I can’t see it.”
I sighed, “Baffy, look down. You came up out of your stance and missed the ball.”
Baffy looked down and started laughing. “Daddy, there’s the ball right where we started. That was a practice swing.”
I doubled over laughing. “You may not be aware of it, but you just became a golfer. Golf is a game that is best played with honesty and integrity. But anyone who swings and misses the ball, okay, most people, will claim that was a practice stroke, so it doesn’t count. But if you are playing in a competitive game, the misses have to count if you play fair.”
Baffy looked sad, “Oh.”
I smiled, “But cheer up. This time, address the ball, make sure you have it rectangled. And this time, keep your eyes on the ball.”
Baffy asked, “How can I do that? The ball is way down there. And my eyes are in my head, way up here!”
I laughed, “No, Sweetie, while you draw the club back and swing it, keep looking at the ball. And try to look at the spot where the ball was after you hit it. Too many golfers look up too early to see where the ball went and then all kinds of bad things happen. Your body will pull your head away but try to wait until that happens.”
At that moment, my phone rang. I stepped away to answer the phone. One of my assistants at the club said that a golfer had complained that there was not enough sand in the sand hazard. He demanded a shot be removed from his score due to a bad shot in the hazard. I told him to not do anything. That particular golfer always had an excuse for a bad shot. I would be out there tomorrow morning before the first tee time. If any hazard needed sand, I would take care of it personally. I doubted that any hazard would need a single grain. Everything was fine when I left for the day at lunchtime.
About that time, I turned my attention back to Baffy. She took a mighty swing, and I said “no” just at impact. With me distracted, she had switched the pitching wedge with the baffing spoon. The ball flew majestically into the air, but since I had yelled at just the wrong time, her grip on the club weakened. The club face opened. And the ball took a banana slice trajectory. Almost a boomerang slice.
The ball went into the trees above the Jetson’s Hobbit Hole and toward the home of Dev Yeggs in the next cul-de-sac. Knock! Knock! Knock, knock! Clang!
Baffy was jumping up and down. “Did you see that, Daddy? I hit the ball really far. And it curved. That was a great golf shot. Are you proud of me, Daddy?”
I asked, “Why did you switch to the baffing spoon, Baffing Spoon Niblick?”
Baffy said, “I missed the ball with the pitching wedge. The baffing spoon has a bigger head, so I thought I might not miss with it. And I wanted my first time hitting the ball to be my name.”
I smiled and gave her a big hug. “Let’s go find the ball.”
Baffy said, “You said the balls were orange and we did not have to go look for them. I could tell the balls were white with a red stripe, but still, why are we looking for the ball?”
I said, “The knocks were the ball hitting a tree limb or the trunk of the tree. But the last one sounded like something metal. I just hope nothing was broken.”
Baffy asked, “Did the ball hit Roosie’s Hobbit Hole?”
I shrugged, “There might be something metal at the Yeggs’ house. Her name is Irusya Jetson, for your information.”
Baffy smiled, “I asked her and she said Roosie was fine, but I called her Aunt Roosie. We know not to call Miss Stasya, Stasi. That was supposed to be the name of some bad people.”
I nodded, “Yes, it was, and I dealt with a few of them who used to work as Stasi. I would never call anyone that. Well, anyone that was a friend.”
We were halfway down the trail between our yard and the secret entrance to the Hobbit Hole when Irusya and Caulk, the Caucasian Sheep Dog – German Shepherd mix greeted us. Irusya was wearing a sweatsuit, a real T.R.U.S.T. fan, and I think she might be taking a few classes in environmental testing. Caulk was returning to her normal fit self.
Before anyone could say anything, Jacob Levy came down the trail wearing a bulletproof vest. Jacob asked, “I got an intruder alarm. Since the alarm had no sightings with it, I thought it might be a dead limb falling from a tree. Dinah is in the panic room anyway.”
Naomi Yeggs was walking down the trail from her house. “No, from what I heard on the back porch, I am thinking that Mashie got bored and hit some golf balls.”
Baffy smiled, “No, it was me! I hit the ball with my name!”
Naomi scratched her head. “With your name?”
Irusya saw the golf club. “I am thinking golf club is baffing spoon. You make good shot!”
Baffy was still dancing with excitement.
Irusya said, “Here is the intruder.” She produced a white golf ball with a red stripe around it. She added, “Nothing was broken. We have impact glass. How you say?”
I suggested, “Impact Resistant glass?”
Irusya nodded, “Yes. That’s it, but even then, we were taking a nap. I worked half the night with environmental alarms going off. Mags Kildare was there too. Something to do with a carbon recovery upset. Jim Kaiser and Kevin finally fix. But Elroy work until lunchtime today, through the night. Hugh McAdoo send update to security software. He update everything here from Lily the Pink. He supervise Jethro who see if Lily the Pink need same upgrade. Please, not tell Hugh McAdoo. I love my husband, but he sleep through bang when ball hit skylight. Then alarms go off. He still asleep!”
I sighed, “I am sorry we woke you up.”
Irusya smiled, “No worry, I had to get up to see if intruder alarm was really a threat.”
Baffy was hugging Caulk. I said, “Caulk, you have returned to your girlish figure after delivering puppies and weaning them.”
Caulk laughed, “Look at Irusya. She and I got pregnant at the same time. I have delivered the puppies, weaned them, and they are off at boarding school. Irusya has still got to face the third trimester. I almost feel sorry for you humans.”
Note: Caulk and Perry have collars with cameras, microphones and speakers so that Elroy and Irusya can talk to possible intruders through the dogs. It keeps the intruder busy or scares them off, thinking Caulk and Perry are talking dogs. They added AI so that the dogs can be semi-autonomous. But with the nasty look on Irusya’s face, Caulk may have her AI sarcasm dialed down a bit, at least leave the pregnancy thing off limits.
At that point, Silly Johns and Pauline walked up behind us.
Pauline said, “I am trying my hand at apple pandowdy and apple strudel. Is anyone interested?”
Naomi excused herself. Now that Lydia was born, she needed to try to catch up with Caulk, even though she was still breast feeding. Caulk knew not to talk around Silly. Irusya let Caulk go back to patrol duty. The rest of us went to our back porch. Jacob called Dinah and after Dinah had gotten dressed, she came over.
Baffy was using every ball that I had brought and hitting them with the pitching wedge. Pauline asked if she had topped the ball yet. Baffy asked if that was with caramel syrup or chocolate fudge. I said I would explain when she ever made that mistake. But she didn’t.
I said, “Aunt Dinah is coming. Each time you hit the ball, say, ‘fore!’
Baffy asked, “Why not five or six?”
I laughed, “They don’t know for sure why it is fore, F-O-R-E, not F-O-U-R. It is either yelling for the caddy that is down the course, the fore-caddie, to be carefully watching the ball. Or it is an old Irish Gaelic expression, or something close to it, that means ‘clear the way.’ But if you said ‘five’, Aunt Dinah would be very confused.”
Jacob said, “Aunt Dinah would be confused with anything that you say.”
Baffy went back to her golf practice. The first time she made contact, ignoring her clear whiff as a “practice stroke,” she hit one high into the air and into the trees. She was hooked. She was now a golfer. When she makes her first long putt, the deal will be finalized.
Credits
The Perils of Pauline was a movie serial that started in 1914. It defined many serials that followed, including the Perils of Pauline “moment,” the cliffhanger that caused you to return to the theater for the next installment.
Mashie said that he had range balls, but Baffy thought they were orange balls.
The Stasi were the secret police in Eastern Germany. They had a very nasty reputation, and many of them still tried to do their nasty tricks after the walls came down, allegedly.
And I was hooked the first time that I ever swung a golf club. My brother was nine years older than I was. When I was twelve and it was Labor Day that year, my brother had a set of golf clubs because he was taking golf as his physical education requirement that year at college. He had some of his high school football buddies with him when I walked up. He tossed me his eight iron and said to hit the ball across our grandparent’s front yard at a tree. He at least showed me how to grip the club. I took a couple of breaths and swung the ball. The eight iron has a lot of loft. The ball flew toward the tree, bounced twice, and landed about two feet from the trunk of the tree. Since I was the klutz who never did anything right and he was the sports hero that excelled at every sport, I naturally thought that he had done better.
He angrily snatched the club from my hands and growled. His friends were doubling over laughing. And for over sixty years, I have never thought of why he was growling. My one lucky shot was better than anything he had done that afternoon, otherwise, why were his friends laughing? But that one lucky shot spurred me on to learn the game of golf, not getting my own clubs for another 12 years.
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