"Sudden Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Balkind Michael)

Chapter 9

Saturday was an exquisite day. A deep blue sky was dotted with just enough cottony clouds to give periodic relief from the intense sun. The air was balmy and as expected, the crowds overflowed the fairways. One spectator constantly annoyed Reid with hoots and hollers, but was too stealthy to be caught. Reid had made a few mistakes on the front nine, but was recovering quite well on the back. That is, until the 14th hole when the rowdy fan wisecracked, “Nice shot, champ!” after Reid hit a poor second shot. All day, Reid had managed to keep his temper from flaring, but this pushed him beyond tolerance. He stormed toward the source of the heckling with Buddy at his heels. In front of the gallery, approximately where the shouts had come from, he said sternly, “Whoever you are, you better keep hiding because if I catch you, it’s gonna get ugly. Do me a favor, just like they often tell me, grow up. Better yet, why don’t you find a sport where your yelling is appropriate, and stay there?”

The gallery applauded as he walked back to his ball. Buddy said, “You scared the shit out of me, boss. Let’s just focus on the rest of the round and win this thing, okay?” “What the hell do you think I’m trying to do?” Reid barked. “Okay, okay, calm down, we’re on the same team, remember?” “Sorry, I’m just pissed off.” “Yeah, I noticed, but you’ve got to keep yourself together.” “Okay, just give me a second to calm down.” Reid made a show of inhaling and exhaling deeply. Then he nodded. “I’m ready.” As everyone settled down, they resumed play. Reid’s ball had landed in serious trouble. The crowd had jumped out of the way as the ball landed near them and ricocheted off something hard. It flew through some trees and came to rest in a small clearing. Reid and Buddy were not happy when they saw the ball’s ugly position. There was barely enough room for Reid to swing without hitting one of the exotic Chinese Fir trees the hole was named after. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he had a long tunnel of trees to hit through to get back to the fairway, heading for the green. There was no opening that afforded a safe lateral punch shot. The only safe shot was backward toward the tee, and that just wasn’t an option, not for Reid. “Looks like we’re damned either way,” Buddy said. “Give me my two-iron.” “So you’ve already decided, huh? Glad I could be of help.” Buddy handed him the club. “Come with me; we need to study this shot.” They walked through the tunnel, out to the fairway. Buddy said, “You’ve still got another 65 yards to the green. If you keep it low and land it here,” he said pointing to an area on the fairway just past the rough, “you should have the momentum to make the green. You’re gonna have to come out hot.”

“Yeah, I know.” After taking a moment to study the approach, Reid said, “Okay, let’s do it.” They walked back to the ball in silence. The crowd stayed respectfully quiet.

Studying the shot, Reid took some practice swings. His swing was going to be awkward in order not to hit the trees with the club and yet keep the ball low and fast, or “hot.” Stepping up, he kept the ball at the back of his stance and angled the top of the club forward. Taking one last look at the green, he took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and swung. The ball sailed through the tunnel, landing almost exactly where Buddy had pointed. Then it ran all the way onto the green, broke left and came to rest, leaving a three-foot putt.

The crowd went wild. As Reid and Buddy emerged from the tunnel of trees, the roar of applause and cheers became deafening. Reid couldn’t help himself. Smiling, he put his fist out toward Buddy for a tap and said, “Not bad.” “Who are you kidding? That was awesome, even for you,” Buddy said. “True,” Reid said with a smile. Finishing the day with a two-shot lead, Reid was happy. On the way to the locker room Buddy said, “Okay, I’m off to pick up your sisters. Their plane lands in 45 minutes. We’ll meet you at the dinner party.” “Alright, see you later. Hey, take care of them for me.”

Reid had always been very close with his sisters. They were extremely pro tective of one another growing up. He had asked Buddy to pick them up at the airport so they didn’t have to take a cab.

Later that evening, Eagle hosted a buffet dinner at the club. Most of the players and caddies attended the affair, many with their wives or dates. The ballroom was extravagantly decorated. There were two large ice sculptures: a very realistic life-size golfer at the pinnacle of his swing and a sixfoot golf ball. The sign in front of the ball read, “Play Eagle’s newest ball, ‘Freeze.’ Use Freeze when you want to ice your competition.”

Huge silver bowls were at the center of each table. They were filled with a mixture of Freeze golf balls and similar-sized spheres of ice. Carl walked over and asked, “Well, gentlemen, what do you think?” “It looks like Reid’s first advertising campaign might be a little chilly,”

Buck said. “Yup, but don’t worry, Reid, our next ball balances out the Freeze campaign nicely. It’s called Heat,” Carl said. “Freeze and Heat, that’s pretty neat,” Reid said. As Carl and Buck rolled their eyes, Reid spotted his sisters, Betsy and Hunter, searching for him. He hadn’t seen them in months. They ran and smothered him with hugs. Both girls had the same blue eyes as Reid. Betsy was a beautiful girl with the body of a dancer and long, curly brown hair. Hunter had an angelic face with eyes that lit up as she smiled. Her dirty blond hair framed her pretty face in a short bob cut. Reid introduced them to Carl and they said hello to Buck. Reid asked, “Can we sit down? I don’t know about you all, but I’m really hungry.” “Come on, we’re at the head table,” Carl said. I’ll just move Tom Davis and his wife to another table to make room for Betsy and Hunter.” “Don’t do that, Carl. We can sit anywhere,” Betsy said. “I wouldn’t hear of it,” Carl answered. “I’d like to get to know you two better, anyway. Maybe I can get you to reveal some of Reid’s weak spots, for later negotiations.” Both girls’ eyes opened wide as their jaws dropped. “Easy, girls, I was kidding,” he said with a grin. “Whew,” they both sighed. After a quick laugh, everyone followed Carl to the buffet. Delicacies from around the world adorned the table. After dinner, multi-tiered Viennese tables were wheeled in, bearing pastries and other sweets that were not to be believed. The bartenders were very busy all night.

Before the night was through, Carl went to the podium and thanked everyone for coming. He announced that there was a box of Freeze for everyone to take home. “I would appreciate it if all the tour pros here tonight would try the balls, then contact me with your evaluation.” He then revealed two surprises. “I’d like everyone to reach into the silver bowl on your table and take an ice cube. By now they should have melted to the size of large marbles. Now place the ice in your mouth and let it melt. Do not swallow if you feel something hard after the ice melts. There are tiny platinum golf balls in three of the cubes. Whoever finds the platinum balls will be going on a two-week vacation for two to the Fiji Islands.”

There was a moment of silence before shrieks came from different areas of the room. One winner was a caddie; the other two were player’s wives. As they were congratulated, waiters entered the room in succession, carrying trays of shot glasses. They quickly handed one to each guest. Squeals of surprise sounded out as everyone realized the shot glasses were made of ice. Carl raised his and said, “To the Master’s and to Freeze. Bottoms up, everyone.” Most did the shot; many reached for a second.

The evening ended early for the players’ sake. Tomorrow was the final day of the tournament. Reid had reserved the room next to his suite for his sisters. He handed them the cardkeys and said, “You guys can hang out with Buck for the rest of the evening. I’m sure he’ll introduce you to some interesting people. I’ll see you at the golf course tomorrow. By the way, when the tournament is over, what do you say we fly to New York and spend some time with Mom before the Classic at Westchester Country Club?”

“I have to make sure Steve and the kids are okay with it,” Betsy said. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem. I already have another instructor teaching my dance classes while I’m out. Besides, it’ll be good for Mom.”

“Why don’t you have Steve and the kids meet us there? They can come watch the tournament.”

“Good idea. I’ll call and see if he can take a few days off. The kids would love it.” “Marriage sure makes things complicated, doesn’t it?” Hunter joked. “Oh shut up!” Betsy replied with a grin. “Alright, alright, cut it out you two,” Reid said. I have to hit the sack. Go have some fun.” He turned toward the rest of the group at the table. “Good night, all.” “Good night, Reid,” they all said. “Good luck tomorrow,” Carl added. “Thanks, Carl,” Reid said. He turned to Buddy. “We tee off at 2:30. I want to sleep late, then get a massage. Let’s meet in the locker room at 11:30.” “Sounds good,” Buddy replied. By the time Reid got his room it was 10 p.m. and he was bushed. After a quick shower, he got in bed. When he called to request his wake-up call, the receptionist told him he had a message waiting. He said, “I’ll get it tomorrow.” It was time to think golf, and only golf. Once again, he played each hole on the course in his head. Sleep came somewhere in the middle of the 15th.