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And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming…

The 1960’s were an interesting time for private country clubs. While the rest of the country grappled with civil rights, Vietnam protests, and political assassinations, the elite members of a club we'll call Pilgrim Rock Country Club concerned themselves with maintaining the status quo and perfecting their golf swings. But on one soggy November day, a rafter of Wild Turkeys drove their annual event into the rough in a Thanksgiving tale with more action than your Uncle Tony’s got riding on the Cowboys money line!

For years Pilgrim Rock CC was a New England bastion of old money that was suddenly seeing an influx of new money enter the club. They were best known for hosting "The Weatherman" every Wednesday before Thanksgiving. This tournament was the club's crown jewel. Winning it carried more prestige than the club championship - it was the ultimate test of golf and grit.

The rules were simple: 18 holes, no weather-appropriate attire allowed. Short-sleeved polos only - come rain, sleet, or snow. It was less a test of golfing prowess and more a battle against hypothermia. Old-timers still talk about the '54 tournament, where "Popsicle" Pete Vanderbilt's caddy had to defrost him with a hair dryer before he could sign his scorecard.

This year's "Weatherman" lived up to its reputation. The skies had opened up, turning fairways into miniature lakes. A bitingly cold wind whipped across the course, chilling players to the bone. Most members dropped out as their scores soared and their body temperatures plummeted, but two rivals remained locked in an epic duel.

In one corner, William Stuffington III, a man so uptight he made starched collars look relaxed. Stuffington was old money - the kind who treated the staff like servants and the non-legacy members like second class citizens. His swing was as stiff as his upper lip, but somehow effective.

His opponent? Johnny Cranberry, who'd caddied at Pilgrim Rock as a kid and, after finding success in the business world, returned as a member. Johnny was as popular with the other members as free drinks at the clubhouse bar, with a swing smoother than a well-aged scotch.

As they approached the 17th tee, they were neck and neck with a huge gap between themselves and the nearest competitor. The gallery, bundled up like Nanook of the North, was overwhelmingly rooting for Cranberry to stick it to the wildly unpopular Stuffington.

Little did anyone know, trouble brewed in the woods. Earlier, groundskeeper Willie had spotted unusual "birdies" near the 5th green, but chalked it up to his morning "swing oil" and kept it to himself.

Just as Stuffington was about to tee off, a gobble louder than an idiot yelling “Mashed Potatoes” at a PGA event erupted from the woods. Suddenly, the 17th fairway was filled with more Wild Turkeys than a Kentucky distillery. Stuffington's swing went awry, his ball ricocheting off a plump hen's behind into a newly formed water hazard.

While Stuffington turned cardinal-red, Johnny chuckled. "Stuffington, that was almost one hell of a hole in one, but I’m sure that turkey’s glad it wasn’t!" Stuffington, in a toddler-worthy tantrum, demanded a free drop citing "turkey interference." Despite protests from Johnny's supporters in the gallery, Cranberry nodded his assent. "Rules are rules," he said with a wink, "even when they're for the birds."

The 18th tee was no better. Turkeys strutted across the fairway like it was their runway, gobbling defiantly at the golfers. Both players managed to get their drives off, threading between feathered obstacles, but as they approached their balls for their second shots, the turkeys closed in, eyeing the little white orbs curiously.

The match paused as Stuffington screamed for his caddie to retrieve his gun from his locker while he defended his ball from a half dozen interested turkeys. When his caddie returned moments later with a shotgun, Stuffington stammered across the fairway looking like Elmer Fudd on a bad day. "I'll give these birds something to gobble about!" he bellowed, raising the firearm.

But Johnny, cool as the other side of the pillow, stepped in. "Hold your horses William. I've got a better idea." He turned to the gallery and asked the nearby residents to run home and bring their dogs to the course.

Minutes later, the 18th fairway looked like a misdirected Westminster Dog Show. Labs, retrievers, and even embarrassed-looking poodles charged in. The turkeys, choosing not to engage with the eager canines, high-tailed it back into the woods.

With the course clear, Johnny sailed a beautiful 7 iron to the middle of the green and sank the winning putt. Stuffington protested, but nobody cared. The 1965 Weatherman was crowned and Cranberry slipped into the famous Green Parka with the help of the previous year’s winner as Stuffington stood shivering in anger.

These days, it's common to see a dog trotting alongside the course groundskeeper to scare off geese and other pesky wildlife that can over-fertilize a golf course. Legend has it that this practice traces back to Johnny Cranberry's quick thinking at Pilgrim Rock. And as for the turkeys? Well, by saving them from Stuffington's shotgun blasts, Johnny pardoned more gobblers that day than all U.S. Presidents combined!

So remember dear readers, in golf as in life, sometimes the best way to ruffle feathers is with a little kindness. And if you ever find yourself in a Stuffington-esque tantrum remember that it’s dogs, not shotguns, that are a man’s best friend!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING FROM COUNTRY CLUB CONFIDENTIAL!

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Poll Question

Last Week's Poll Result

What is a tell-tale sign that a caddie at your club is dealing drugs?

🟨⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ The bags under his eyes are as big as the bags over his shoulders (5)

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩 He gives out lines even when no one is putting (15)

🟨🟨🟨⬜️⬜️⬜️ He used to caddie for Dustin Johnson (7)

Congrats to our “Comment of the Week” winner - Patrick K.

Adding a topper to the Dustin Johnson reference, Patrick commented “If you were married to Paulina Gretzky, your caddie would need to deal blow too!”

For his comment that takes a dig a The Great One’s daughter, Patrick wins a dozen balls from LA Golf!

The Comment of the Week will be temporarily paused - you want to win something? Win a $600 driver! How? Enter our referral contest! You love the CCC, right? Your friends will too! Don’t be greedy, share it with them!

When a club decided to relax their strict rules for “Muni Day” they quickly realized that the membership couldn’t handle their newfound freedom!

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