Harrowing tales from Golf Camp. Well, harrowing-ish.

As you may recall, NOS is a golfer. NOS, bless him, has inherited my dilettante gene and as such we don't worry about him in the way we might should he have turned out to be one of those kids who eat, sleep, breathe [insert athletic pursuit here] because he is going to be a professional [insert athletic pursuit here]-ist and therefore needn't worry about anything else.

I kind of like that dilettante gene.

Anyway, NOS attends golf camp for a couple of weeks each summah. This year it has been a bit different as he is now, by virtue of his age, in the "big kids' group" and whenever you lump your child into such a group for the first time -- especially a boy -- there are two* types of other boy about whom you worry. The first is the one who brings (ahem) certain magazines from home to impress the rest of the lads. I'm resigned to the fact that sooner or later my sons will run into one of these Mensa members.

Now, the other type of Awful Older Boy is the bully. NOS isn't the largest specimen of his age and sometimes there are defective lads who like to zero in on this. NOS maturely considers this a nuisance and he is now becoming more aware of the temper he has inherited from TFBIM. In a nutshell, when pushed to his limit, he goes all Incredible Hulk...except he doesn't get larger, greener or stronger.

Which happened last week.

Keep in mind the average bully is someone of very limited intellectual means. Very, very few Nobel laureates have sprung from their ranks. So they would not be fully conscious of the sorts of items generally carried by the participants at a golf camp. Perhaps if all these kid had been attending Sniper Camp they might be more aware of the peril into which their bullying would carry them. But they do not. Which prompts awkward phone calls from Golf Camp Secretary Lady to, say, me. Phone calls in which one's oldest son and heir's...er...forceful behavior -- aided and perpetrated with, it is believed, a #4 Titleist -- towards a tormentor is detailed.

It seems the bully in question, not finding NOS among those present, chose to vent his mood at another boy (apparently the latter was guilty of being "a fat dumbshit") and NOS, happening upon the scene, decided this was more of an accuracy shot than distance shot and opted for hurling the Titleist as opposed to, for example, a Callaway or MaxFli. I have it on good authority that such, hurled with all the might of an 11 year old at close range, when striking the rear of the collarbone, causes notable discomfort. (I'm relieved a putter or wedge was not employed)

At that point, things became rather livelier than one expects of a suburban Golf Camp.

Fortunately for all concerned, not much damage beyond a bruised ego ensued. The melee which naturally followed, captured the attention of the Golf Camp Secretary Lady and when she sorted out the various narratives, by acclamation it was ascertained NOS was in the right and Bully was not and the latter was been invited (with a few choice words on the side to Ma Bully) to not return next (i.e., this) week, without refund.

Being a preemptive -- I cannot overemphasize the importance of this -- sort of lad, I immediately called the parents of Bully and explained, in a tone that straddled between patronizing and indignant, our feelings on the subject. Then I magnanimously accepted the profuse apologies.


* Well, three, but that's a bit beyond the scope of this post


Off topic - but that whole St Bernard thing - may well be your responsibility as potential father in law -

You might struggle with the whole dog thing though - as I recollect you are not overly fond of our four legged friends..
Joke said…
Our two-legged friends are no prize either.

Neither are our winged/finned friends. Houseplants are suspect also.

Joke said…
P.S. That's not to say that, by ferrying ardent spirits to slake those in thirst, a dog mayn't earn his (or her) keep in my household.
Stomper Girl said…
Well now I need part two of this thrilling epic, or at least a bit more information about what you said to Ma and Pa Bully. (I would not know myself what to say in the same situation)

By the way, NOS is a hero for putting the bully in place. Although he may have upset the golf purists somewhat.
Joke said…
NOS is a rare breed, being both heroic (for putting the Awful Boy in his place) and shrewd (for doing so at a distance). Given that Awful Boy might well be able to turn anyone of his fellows into a crimson stain upon the pavement, it was pure genius for NOS to make sure he had a head start for the open spaces.

What I told Mrs. Awful Boy was that "I had heard" that "something had happened" at golf camp -- by this point the young brute had already been exiled from golf camp -- and that all the children had voiced displeasure with his behavior and bullying. "This, I needn't say, is not acceptable and I am sure you will be very sharp with Awful Boy in correcting him. I don't know that this level of leniency can be expected in the future."

See, what I did there was not wait for Ma Awful to call me to complain about NOS giving her son a welt or bruise. What one has to avoid is the rhetorical defense of "Yeah, well, YOUR kid did..."

meggie said…
Such a satisfying outcome! Well done NOS, & also, his Pater!

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