Digging for Gold on the Golf Course

They're out there and you may even know one. The phrase "for the love of the game" means as much to them as a barber means to the Dalai Lama. They own golf clubs for one reason and one reason only: Networking at golf tournaments.

They're Tourney Golfers and the summer months on their calendars are spattered with local charity golf events: Shotguns, Best Balls, Scrambles - it doesn't mean a thing to them - as long as they get to mingle after the round while bellied-up to the raw bar.

They're not there to grip-it and rip-it, they're there to grip and grin; and market themselves or their product. Think I'm crazy? Let's look at one such person (for the sake of anonymity, we'll call him Tourney Golfer Bob).

Anyway, Bob and I (along with two others) are paired up at this golf tournament a few years ago. Throughout the front 9, Bob's yacking away about his law firm. It started out innocent enough: "Have you got any kids?" Me: "No, not yet." Bob: "We'll you know, my wife and I just revised our will to include our youngest." Me: "Oh?" Bob: "Yep. It's something to think about, you know - it happens to all of us." Me: "What does?" Bob: "Death."

Me: "PLUNK" (that was my next shot, smack-dab in the middle of a pond).

Around the 15th hole, Bob opened up his bag to fetch more tees and that's when I notice it. His bag pocket was stuffed with dozens of those little tee/marker/divot tool packs you receive on the first tee of most tournaments. Then I realized all his golf balls (he blew through his complimentary sleeve of three Pro V1's in as many holes) were ALL logo balls. My eyes darted to his golf towel: "12th Annual Volunteer Fireman's Scramble." Umbrella: I couldn't make it out completely, but it had the Marine Corps. logo and I could read the word "tournament."

Me: "So Bob, you were in the Marines?" Bob: "What's that?" Me: "The Marines. Your umbrella has the Marine Corps. logo." Bob: "Oh that! No. I won that in the raffle after I played in their local tournament last year."

Yep, I had the pleasure of being Bob's 6th playing partner that summer. Coincidentally, it was also Bob's sixth golf tournament that summer. By the time we were driving up to the 18th green, I had the whole story:

"Yeah, I never really played this game until I joined my present firm. One day I was talking to one of the partners who was telling me about this big client he just got. Turns out he met the guy at a golf tournament, so I figured; Hey, that's not a bad idea. Here it is three years later and nearly 30 percent of my clients stem in some way, shape or form from someone I met playing in a golf tournament!"

Bob's not alone. He knew of a few others that were doing the same thing. Suddenly, I was whisked back to California in 1849 - There's Golf in Them Thar Hills! Wait, I meant "Gold" - no, I guess I actually meant "Golf." Bob is a modern-day 49er - He recognized potential clientele and got out his pick, er, clubs and started digging.

At the raffle after the round, guess who won the box of balls with the course's logo on them? Last I saw Bob, he was slurping down a clam on the half shell while talking about product liability with the owner of a paint-ball complex.

God, I love this game...

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