Friday, June 26: a country club deep in the heart of Rehoboth, Massachusetts: an epic battle, a rivalry renewed, a score settled…for now.  Needless to say, locals will be talking about that day for a long time, and not just because it’s Rehoboth and there is nothing else to talk about either.  No, they’ll talk about that day because of the purity of the competition, the grit of the competitors, the glorious victory, and the bitter defeat.

It all started many months before with an innocent comment at lunch: “We’re just better than you”.  That was followed by a polite reply:  “if by better, you mean stupider then yes, you are better.”  From there it escalated into a vicious and at times, completely inappropriate, war of words and then suddenly: a challenge: North vs. Feehan in a 36 Hole Ryder Cup Style Golf Match.

Two Team Captains were appointed (by themselves I might add). They were Randy J. Spencer, North Attleboro Red Rocketeers; Class of 1991 and Todd Carges, Bishop Feehan Shamrocks: Class of 1991.  Yes.  I know what you're thinking: two local legends.

The first order of business was to assemble the teams.  Two eligibility criteria were established: players had to have graduated from either Feehan or North respectively and had to have been invited to their Captain's wedding (it’s important to note, that players did not have to accept the invitation to the wedding, this simply would not have worked for Randy Spencer as even though he sent out over 100 wedding invitations to those who he thought were friends; sadly, only 6 accepted and of those only 4 attended and of those only 2 wore shirts and of those only 1 has known whereabouts).

It was a grueling evaluation process.  Many things had to be considered: friendships, handicaps, swing speeds, attitudes, clutchness, monetary debts owed, long-standing grudges held, and most importantly, could they get permission from their wife to play.  It just wasn't easy.

In the end, evaluations were made and the perfect teams were assembled:

North Attleboro Red Rocketeers:

Randy Spencer ‘91
Michael Ronci ‘92
Patrick Bannon ‘92
Shawn Elliott ‘92

Bishop Feehan Shamrocks

Todd Carges ‘91
Michael Bush ‘91
Kevin Adams ‘91
Jason Adamic ‘91

As you can see, North went with youth, energy and thickheadedness; while Feehan stuck with experience, foot speed and rugged good looks.

Now that the teams were assembled, the format of the match had to be agreed upon. After some heated debate, it was decided there would be 36 holes, broken down into 4 matches of 9 holes: the first 9 holes would be combined total score, the next 9 would be alternating shot, the next 9 would singles matches and the last 9 would be a scramble.

A point system was devised and all that was left was to choose a venue.

Now it should be mentioned at this point that both Randy and Shawn Elliott are members of a country club in Rehoboth.  But before you go thinking that this is a measure of success, you should know that it is the only country club where shirt and shoes are optional, and overalls are mandatory.  The last time I was there, they asked me if I was walking or riding.  I said: "riding" and they handed me the reins to one of those midget horses.  I'm just kidding, of course, it is a beautiful club.  It's just a little out of the way though.  It takes 7 hours to get there from North Attleboro by dirt roads and corn fields. It's actually a smooth ride until you have to rent a donkey-drawn wagon to cover the last two miles.

To be honest, my team was leery of playing at their home course.  In the end, we decided that that would make victory that much sweeter.  So, we agreed.  Their country club it would be.

We set the date, had a shiny trophy made, conducted a few team practices, met with a sports psychologist and a regular psychologist (for an unrelated matter), and waited for the day to arrive.

Mercifully, it did.

We met at the course early in the morning, got warmed up, and said a few prayers (we did go to Feehan after all).  As we all stepped up on the first tee box, one thing stood out.  The Feehan team was just flat-out better looking than the North team.  I mean almost ridiculously better looking.  Sure, in the back of my mind, I had always suspected that we were better looking, but now that we were standing side by side, the disparity was just shocking.  Anyway, onto the match.

The sky was blue, the sun was hot and the course was gorgeous.  It was a perfect day for golf.  The kind of day that makes you feel alive and grateful to live in the greatest country in the world.  The kind of day that makes you forget that our current President is woefully unqualified and hell-bent on destroying everything that we hold sacred (you didn't think I would go a whole column without ripping Barack, did you). 

Being the Team Captain, I wanted to show some solid leadership early, so I volunteered to tee off first.  I got lined up, made a few practice swings, thought very briefly again just how much better looking we were than them, shrugged off some nerves and a rather insulting but funny comment about my weight from Mike Ronci, and swung.  The ball exploded off my club like it had been shot out of a cannon.  I held my follow through and watched it fly right down the middle of the fairway about 300 yards (may have been 240 it was hard to tell).

What a great start!  If only the rest of the match would go as smoothly as that first swing.


...read Sham-Rock Cup (part two)