JAY DAVIS: More memories than golf shots made at tourney

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I went into the Frank Scherr Memorial “Spikes for Spurs” Golf Tournament not knowing what to expect.

Being part of the family through marriage, I was like that little dot that bounces around from word to word when songs are captioned for a sing-along. Where I would end up and with whom I would golf was anyone’s guess.

Upon arriving at Oahe Hills Golf Course, I was on a team with Shannon, Erin and Emily Dale. That would have been a good fit for me, because I would have been the fourth best golfer on the team. Any contribution from this hacker would have been sufficient.

But then I looked down the roster of players and found that classmate Neal Duncan and schoolmate Randy Coleman had both arrived on the scene to play. They came from Pennsylvania and California, respectively, and like me were signed up to play and willing to be thrown on any team for the day.

Since I had been at work putting out last week’s edition of the Tribune, I was a later arrival and it was only about 15 minutes from tee time, but something had to be done to get the three of us on the same team. So I went to brother-in-law Bill Scherr, and filled him in on my desire to reunite three old high school buddies. Bill complied by putting his sister Jean in charge of flip-flopping a couple teams.

So, off went three MHS grads from the late ‘70s in a quest to have some fun and not embarrass ourselves on the golf course. We were a three-man team, either because the tourney had an odd number of players or because all perspective teammates ran quickly in the opposite direction when approached about joining us.

Our round was going to be jovial no matter what, when we found that we were teamed with Jane Bachman, Glen Anderson and Kooner and Paula (Randy’s onetime babysitter) Kosters.

A couple holes in, along comes Tribune teammate Travis Svihovec to take a few pictures of the event. It did not take him long to realize that if he went in and gave his donation, he could be our d’Artagnan and make us four musketeers.

Adding a stick like Travis suddenly made us a formidable foe. We hit a lot of shots while shooting a five-under, 31 the first nine.

But alas, when old friends get together, concentration and competition sometimes give way to consumption and camaraderie.

The back nine suffered as stories of the past began to matter more than golf shots of the future.

In the end, we shot an eight-under, 64. That was not enough for us to garner anything from the bounty of prizes. But that’s okay, too. None of us were there for that. We were there to do our part for a very worthy cause that turned into a wonderful day of fellowship and reconnecting with our past.

Plus we got to see one of the most shockingly unrealistic impersonations of an eagle anyone has ever seen.

I can’t wait to tee it up for Spikes for Spurs again next Fourth.

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