
BY JEFF BABINEAU
With apologies to the Judge Smails’ of the world—the types who’d never approve of all those money-exchanging shenanigans at Bushwood Country Club—golf and gambling are a natural pair. Why, as Forrest Gump might say, the two go together like peas and carrots.
Golf has been played with peripheral stakes since Scotland’s Old Tom Morris and his son, Young Tom, went at it with primitive clubs and stitched-up balls over 12 holes for a wee dram. Some side cheese on a match went next level when the handicap system was devised, allowing players of vastly different abilities to compete on a level playing field in a way they never could in other sports.
For mere mortals who don’t get the rush of striking shots in attempts to land seven-figure winner’s checks on Sunday afternoons, competing with a little something extra on the line—say, your regular $5 weekend club Nassau—can get the blood pumping, the adrenaline running and can tighten the larynx down the stretch. Ever stand over a 3-footer to win the day? A little action makes things a lot more
interesting for players of all abilities, even
if you’re just playing for fun.
This writer cut his competitive teeth with a group called The Forty Thieves at what, in the late 1970s, was a brick-hard muni called Dennis Pines, situated not far from the elbow in the seaside arm that is Cape Cod in Massachusetts. The group comprised most every walk of life, from plumbers to pilots, and everyone tossed in a few Shekels and played games such as two-ball best ball or quota. But nothing beat the rush of trying to beat darkness following nine “warmup” holes of the spring Thursday night Twilight League, which served as a precursor to the evening’s real action.
The Twilight winners having been declared, 12-15 players would sprint to the 10th tee, bags clanking, for our version of cross-country golf—hop-scotching across fairways to faraway greens and delighting in hacking the traditional routing. By the time the group lumbered down the long, par-4 18th in complete darkness, we searched for drives the way 5-year-olds hunt down eggs on Easter morning. The game was called Doggy-Doggy, why, I never knew. Maybe it’s because two “dogs,” or players would hit simultaneously from each end of the tee to speed up play. A dozen players would be done with tee shots in 3 minutes. Skins, which normally paid $5 per player, were quite rare, as the game was two-tie, all tie. To land a Skin, especially to an impressionable high schooler about to set sail to Florida for college, was akin to hitting the daily number in Lotto.
Golf has its usual stand-by games— Nassau, Scramble, Sixes—and they’re all fun. Variety is nice, breathing new life into longtime circles. We have Wolf, a golf betting format to mix up your usual weekend foursome. In this game, the designated “wolf” on a hole gets to choose whether to partner with another player in a 2 vs. 2 matchup or they can go lone wolf and take
on the group 1 vs. 3. With either choice, the low score for that hole wins. The first step in playing this game is to establish the betting amount and the tee shot order before the round. Typically done by flipping a tee, the first player will hit first on No. 1, the second player will hit first on No. 2, and so on for the remainder of the round. It’s important to keep the teeing order the same because the wolf will make his choice based on tee-shot performance. Depending on when a wolf makes his partner choice, the betting amount for a hole will change. Assuming the betting amount is
$1, if the wolf on a hole is feeling confident, he can choose to go lone wolf before hitting his tee shot and the 1 vs. 3 matchup for that hole is tripled to $3. If he hits his tee shot and then decides to go lone wolf, the hole
is worth $2 in a 1 vs. 3 match. If the wolf decides to choose a partner, a 2 vs. 2 match ensues with the winners both taking $1. A partner can only be picked immediately after the potential partner hits a tee shot
and before the next player plays. Finally, for the teeing order on the final two holes, it’s typical for the last-place player to hit first to give them a chance to go lone wolf and cut down on their losses.
There is California, where a foursome partakes in a round-robin of three six-hole matches, rotating players and teams. One friend’s group spices this game up with automatic 1-down presses and each player armed with one “Gotcha.” That is, at one point anywhere in the round, a player may
choose to scream, yell, rattle clubs or squeeze an air horn to throw an opponent off their shot. You can always spot the rookies; they’ll use their Gotcha much too early.
A threesome can play a 5-3-1 game, with 5 points awarded to the best score on a hole, and 1 for the worst. (If two players make par and the third makes bogey, first- and second-place points are divided, doled out
at 4-4-1.) Vegas is popular. The match is one two-person team against another. On a par 4, say one team makes 4 and a 5, the other makes a 5 and 7. The score for the first team is 45, and score for the second is 57. If you play for oh, 50 cents a point, this becomes a significant gap (12 points or $6). It widens quickly, however, when one team makes a birdie. The other team’s total is then flipped, with high score first. So if Team 1 made 3-5 on a par 4, for 35 points, Team 2’s order (5-7) gets reversed, for 75,
or a difference of 40 points. Make an eagle and post-flip the difference in points is doubled. Down by a bundle and wanting
to press? We thought you’d never ask.
The beauty of golf is that individuals and groups (of men, women and mixed!) can take the framework of existing games and institute their own extra wrinkles. One friend plays a four-person Skins Game (with carryovers) with an interesting twist. A player may, at any time, call for a Tee Shuffle. One by one, players blindly pick tees out of a pouch or hat—red, white, blue, black—and players then have to tee off corresponding to the tee they drew (red being the front tees and black being the tips). On the 4th of July, a friend’s club invigorates the traditional scramble by playing a variation of Tee shuffle named Red, White and Blue, where you play six holes from each set of tees. The advanced version allows each group to decide what tee they play from at each hole as long as the group
tees off from each colored set of tee markers six times.
The Putting Game keeps everyone’s attention, regardless of talent level. This game deals strictly with play on the greens. (Hey, we all get there eventually, right?) When all four balls are on the green, the player farthest away putts for four points, and earns them only if he/she makes it; next closest putts for three, the next closest two and the closest ball putts for one point. In order to earn points, putts made must be for bogey or better. Chip-ins earn five points. If one player is out of a hole, the points then go 4-3-2. At any point on the green, before a player takes their first putt, another player can challenge by declaring a “Three/Two.” The putter must accept the bet. If he/she two putts, they earn three points; if he/she three-putts, the challenger earns two points. No matter how much
you’ve chopped it, this game keeps you invested in the hole.
Another way to add excitement to every knee-knocker is the Card Game, which combines golf and poker and can be played among multiple groups. Every three putt over the course of the round adds a previously determined amount to the pot. As you might imagine, there are no gimmes. Someone can do the math post-round, but at one club, all the competitors in a Saturday morning game keep “live scoring” of the growing pot using a text string via Whats App, the free popular messaging application. Trash talking ensues.
To win the booty, you’ll need the best poker hand drawn from a minimum of five cards. The number of cards at your disposal to produce your best five-card hand depends on your putting prowess. Each one putt earns an extra card. For instance, if you one-putt nine greens, your hand consists of
14 cards. Each one-putt green improves your odds of winning the game. But if it wasn’t your day with the flatstick, you still have a chance to pull a winning five-card poker hand and minimize the damage to your wallet. (For best results, make sure to use multiple decks depending on the number of participants.)
This last game may be my favorite. Tami Lingelbach is a two-time cancer survivor; her husband, Calvin, for years a legendary high school basketball coach in Florida, has joined Tami’s co-workers on several golfweekend getaways. A few years ago, Calvin gave each of the group’s four foursomes a sleeve of pink golf balls. (We call this game Playing for Pink.) One player in the group plays one of the pink balls, rotating it hole by hole. (Two players play five holes with the pink ball, and two play four holes.) Scoring is determined by taking the aggregate of the two best balls of the group PLUS the score of the pink ball, which always counts. The low aggregate over18 holes wins. Each player in a foursome pays a fine if all three pink balls aren’t returned in the sleeve. For instance, if the predetermined penalty is $5 and two balls aren’t returned, each player in the group would owe $10. Calvin laughs in recalling one player who topped a pink ball, then madly raced off trying to prevent it from reaching a nearby stream. The best part? At the end of the round, money isn’t exchanged between
players. All bets that are paid become a contribution to Tami’s Relay for Life team. Even the high-rollers at Bushwood would
give a hearty thumbs-up to that.