Attrition of Tradition

Dear readers, while most country clubs weather economic storms through careful fiscal management and the deep pockets of their membership, occasionally a prestigious institution makes a decision from which there is no recovery. What follows is the cautionary tale of how a club we’ll call Evergreen Hills Country Club - once the crown jewel of Connecticut's gold coast - sacrificed its soul on the altar of solvency during the financial crisis, with consequences that reverberate to this day.

The emergency board meeting of October 2008 began like any other at Evergreen Hills, with starched napkins and Glenlivet served neat. But the atmosphere in the mahogany-paneled room turned funereal as Treasurer Paulson delivered the grim forecast.

"Gentlemen, I don't need to tell you what's happening downtown," he began, straightening his Brooks Brothers tie. "Lehman is gone. Bear has collapsed. Our membership is bleeding out faster than subprime mortgages in Nevada."

Club President Blankfein, known for his stoic demeanor through three decades of market fluctuations, couldn't conceal his shock at the figures. "Seventeen resignations in a single month - all longtime members with deep Wall Street ties."

"The Fulds have resigned after thirty years," Paulson continued. "The Cayne family is 'reassessing their recreational priorities.' Even the Schwartzmans are asking about our resignation fee structure."

When the preliminary 2009 budget projections appeared on the screen, a collective gasp circled the room. For the first time in its 97-year history, Evergreen Hills faced potential insolvency.

"We have exactly one option," declared Membership Director Geithner, usually the quietest voice in board meetings. "We must actively recruit new members. And we must be, um, flexible about our traditional standards."

The silence that followed seemed to last a quarter's earnings cycle.

"You mean a... membership drive?" asked Bernanke, nearly choking on the phrase. In Evergreen Hills' history, the words had never been uttered aloud. Members simply appeared, ushered in through proper channels after appropriate vetting and waiting periods measured in years, not months.

What followed was the kind of heated debate typically reserved for congressional hearings. Old guard board member Volcker argued passionately for maintaining standards at all costs. "Better to close our doors with dignity than to throw them open to just anyone with a checking account."

But pragmatism prevailed. By a narrow vote of 7-5, the board approved what they euphemistically called the "Membership Development Initiative," carefully avoiding the vulgar term "drive." The plan included waiving the three-sponsor requirement, creating an "Executive Membership" category with reduced initiation fees and, most controversially, allowing members to bring potential candidates to the club without prior board approval.

"This is temporary," Blankfein assured the dissenters. "A bridge solution until the markets recover."

Longtime Greens Committee Chairman Dimon, who had voted against the measure, offered a parting thought: "Gentlemen, I fear we're about to learn that membership standards are like certain financial instruments - once devalued, they never fully recover."

How prophetic his words would prove.

The troubles began almost immediately. By spring 2009, three new member types had emerged, each more problematic than the last.

First came Gordon Geico, a telecom executive who treated the club like a corporate acquisition. Within weeks, he had compiled a list of "operational inefficiencies" and presented it to the stunned head of club operations. His habit of loud speakerphone conversations on the 12th tee became legendary, as did his insistence that the club install cell boosters "to ensure signal integrity throughout the property."

Then there was Buddy Fox, who owned a chain of successful car dealerships and seemed to view Evergreen Hills primarily as a venue for client entertainment. His guests arrived in cologne clouds and pinstripe suits, often ignoring dress codes and pace-of-play guidelines. When gently reminded about proper attire by longtime starter McDonough, Fox memorably replied, "Do you know how much I paid to join this place? I could buy and sell this whole operation with the cash in my glove compartment."

But perhaps most damaging was the arrival of Madoff protégé Ryan Thorpe. Despite initial concerns about his application (no sponsors and vague employment details), his ability to write a check for the full initiation fee on the spot overrode all objections. His subsequent behavior - running an unauthorized "investment seminar" in the men's locker room and attempting to recruit fellow members into dubious ventures - caused irreparable damage to the club's reputation.

The cultural collision reached its nadir during the 2010 Member-Guest Tournament. Traditionally a model of decorum, the event devolved into what one longtime member described as "a sales convention with golf clubs." New member Thorpe arrived with a celebrity guest who required a separate golf cart for his entourage. Bud insisted on playing music through portable speakers. Fox engaged in vociferous betting that would have raised eyebrows at Las Vegas sportsbooks.

When the dust settled, three legacy members resigned the following Monday.

By 2012, the financial damage had been temporarily patched, but the club's social fabric lay in tatters. The membership had effectively segregated into old and new factions. Longtime members retreated to early tee times and private dining arrangements, while newer members dominated the social calendar with increasingly lavish events that old-timers found distasteful.

The final straw came during COVID-19. While most private clubs experienced unprecedented demand as people sought safe outdoor recreation, Evergreen Hills found itself struggling. Its reputation had been so damaged that even during a nationwide surge in golf interest, potential members looked elsewhere.

In March 2022, Evergreen Hills was quietly acquired by National Golf Partners, a management company specializing in "underperforming assets." The club's name was changed to, let’s say, "The Fairways at North Harbor," its initiation fee slashed, and its membership pitched as "accessible luxury." Not a single board member from the 2008 meeting remained to witness the final capitulation.

And so, dear readers, we leave you with this final word of advice: In clubs as in markets, a desperate search for liquidity often leads to toxic assets. When faced with financial pressure, remember that a club's true value lies not in its balance sheet but in the intangible currency of tradition, selectivity, and shared values - assets that, once squandered, yield no recovery.

Poll Question

Last Week's Poll Result

For CCC Presents "Gals" You'll Find at Every Club in America, who should we be sure not to omit?

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩 🍷 The Rosé Ranger: Always dressed, always judging, always on her third glass by lunch.

🟨⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ 🎾 The Guest Day General: Runs Ladies’ Guest Day like it's D-Day. You will tuck in that shirt.

🟨⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ 🙃 The Reluctant Member Married into the club. Hates the sport, loves the spite.

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩 💄 The Silent Assassin Plays off an 18. Posts net 69. Smiles sweetly while taking your money.

We hear ya! The Rosé Ranger and The Silent Assassin make the cut. Be on the lookout for more “CCC Presents” features in the near future!