It took nine tailors (1948)

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HOLLYWOOD GOLF 157 One of the first great truths I learned about golf is that it brings out the worst and the best in a man all the way back to his great-great-grandfathers, including their dreams. Every secret in a man's family tree from the time his ancestors swung from one will be revealed on the golf course. I understand that golf varies in different parts of the country —not the rules, which come from St. Andrews in Scotland via the United States Golf Association, but the ethics or etiquette of the game. Although I have played golf in the East, as well as in England, Scotland, and France, I can only speak with authority on Hollywood golf. That is a subject on which I am a recognized pundit and can speak freely. To begin with, a game of golf in Hollywood circles is often won or lost before a ball is hit off the first tee. While you are still limbering up with a beautiful practice swing— and all practice swings are beautiful— you inquire casually of your opponent what his handicap is. If your man answers, "I haven't got one," that is very bad. I got caught that way once and I have never forgotten. "About what score will you shoot?" I inquired, feeling sorry for this duffer without a handicap. "I haven't any idea. I haven't played a game of golf in years." This sounded too good to be true. Here was a fellow who hadn't hit the ball in years and he wanted to play for money. "Well," I responded, scratching the palm of one hand, "what do you think you will shoot?" "Maybe a ninety or a ninety-five," he replied. " Then we can play even," I assured him. "Fine." He teed up his ball and as soon as he hit it I knew that I was a dead duck. Although he hadn't played a game of golf in years, he had once had a five-stroke handicap, so he shot a 78 at me. Very costly. I am hoping that someday I will get another crack at the gentleman so that I can get my fifty dollars back.