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Eye on the Ball: My Hollywood memories from the 1950s

BOB DeSTEFANO PHOTO Four cherished trophies that live in our columnist’s basement.
BOB DeSTEFANO PHOTO
Four cherished trophies that live in our columnist’s basement.

As a boy, I always wondered what it would be like when I grew up and became an old man.

Certain things were clear, like our hair turning gray, weakened muscles and wrinkled bodies. But I was curious about memories and how far back we could recall things and in how much detail.

I am 76 years old, and am now aware of how much detail I can recall and how far back I can go. Weird as it sounds, I find it easier to remember 60 years ago than recalling what I ate for dinner this past week.

Recently I received a phone call from Ed Lefkowitz, whom I haven’t seen in 60 years. As boys we caddied together at Hollywood Golf Club in Deal, New Jersey. Ed went from caddy to member and is still an active member at Hollywood CC. He called to ask if I would attend and be guest speaker at the Annual Caddy dinner next Thursday.

I was honored and immediately accepted. I guess the reason I was chosen goes back to Eddie’s caddy days.

During those years, the mid-1950s, I won Hollywood’s Caddy championship four years straight. Winning those championships is still one of the highlights of my life. The thrill I received from those victories, I am sure, had a lot to do with the reason I wanted to make a career playing golf.

My prize was receiving four trophies, each standing over two-feet high that have been displayed in my home every year of my life. My wife is not nearly as enthralled about the large objects exhibited in the house. They are on display, but are now relegated to the basement.

I’m wondering what I will remember from 60 years ago at the event next week. After some thought, I finally know the answer — just about everything. As I reflected on what I would say to these young caddies about those days, I remembered so many things. I know, looking back, what I remember most is my family, friends and the fun we had together.

My first thoughts were of the caddies and their funny nicknames. I was Bobby Dee, but most had nicknames like Moanin’ Pete, Louie the Penguin, Crazy Jim, Chipmunk, Stumpy, Bunny, Hooker and Blue Eyes. We also had names for the members that I remember but won’t repeat. If they were lousy tippers they would be called a “duck loop.”

I don’t know where that terminology came from but if you were in the caddy yard when a duck loop arrived, the caddies would all start running and yelling, “Quack! Quack! Quack!”

Nobody wanted to go out on a hot day for over four hours and get a flat $2. Caddy masters. Believe me, Augie DeVito and Lou Acerra had a job trying to find a caddy. I must admit that Hollywood CC did not have many bad members and we had more than our share of great tippers. For those in my generation they would remember the Gimbel Brothers (Adam and Bernard), Toots Shor (Saloon keeper), Irving Felt (Felt Forum at the Garden), Sonny Werblin (New York Jets), David Marx (Marx toys) and Edward Slotkin (Hygrade hot dogs), my personal loop.

Caddying for Ed in a Calcutta tournament, when the rate was only $2.00, he once gave me $200.00 for 18 holes, the equivalent of 100 duck loops. Along with many other celebrities,

I caddied for Joe DiMaggio, Frank Sinatra and Phil Silvers (Sgt. Bilco). They were all dreadful golfers. Sinatra was married to Ava Gardner at the time. I met her in the parking lot and I remember that all I could do was stare.

A few years later I gave Phil Silvers golf lessons when I was a pro in Southampton. I reminded him how annoying it was for me as a caddy that he walked through every sand trap and I had to follow with a rake. He just laughed.

Remember, I’m talking about the mid-1950s, when golf balls were scarce and no one drove a golf cart. In those days, everybody walked and so caddies were in high demand. Golf balls were scarce simply because they did not make golf balls during World War II. Everybody hawked (looked for) golf balls in their spare time in those days.

Today, golf balls are no longer scarce but the people that hawk them are very scarce.

Hollywood CC’s golf pro was Lou Barbaro, my childhood idol. When I could get a loop with two bags, I would rather make half the money and carry a single for Lou so I could learn something about golf.

Lou dressed sharp every day and drove a new 1955 yellow Lincoln Continental convertible. He arrived at work around 9 a.m., taught golf until noon, had lunch and played golf with the members in the afternoon. Add that to working only 7 months a year and spending winters in Florida. How easy was it for me to pick out my future?

Little did I know that my life would turn out very different from his.

Some of the answers to my childhood questions are: The memory is still there, a long sleeve shirt and jacket will cover the wrinkles, “Just for Men” will cover the gray and making sure I don’t play should hide the fact that my strength is leaving.

With all the pins aligned, I was now ready to speak at the event. But I got a call from Ed Lefkowitz, sticking a pin in my balloon saying, “Bob, make it short and try to hold it to just a couple of stories.”