| By:
Patrick Irving
5/4/2007
A generous amount of ink and airtime has been devoted to Wednesday’s Wachovia Championship Pro-Am in which Tiger Woods golfed his first “official” round with his buddy Michael Jordan. The event also provided fifteen minutes of fame for Skipper Beck, the very successful Mercedes-Benz importer/salesman who ponied up the requisite dough to buy into the week’s most talked about threesome (outside of D.C. escort rings anyway).
As one would guess, reports have tagged Mr. Beck with such handles as the “luckiest guy ever” and he has publicly echoed those sentiments. But would a good walk spoiled with two of the greatest international sports icons in the history of the world really be that fantastic for the average joe, let alone a man who, by most normal measures, is extremely wealthy and accomplished? Luckily, one of the caddies that day was equipped with a hidden camera…
QUAIL HOLLOW CLUB, CHARLOTTE, NC – DAY
Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods laugh and joke as they stroll down the middle of the fairway to the green.
TIGER: No way did that happen.
MICHAEL: I swear it’s true.
As Tiger giggles away, Skipper Beck trots up behind them. He is a little out of breath.
SKIPPER: Hey, that was a great shot Michael.
They don’t notice him.
MICHAEL: So then Oak says…
Skipper taps Michael on the shoulder to get his attention. His Airness searches around for a buzzing fly.
SKIPPER: Michael. Over here. That was a great shot.
MICHAEL: Huh? Oh, thanks. So then Oak says…
SKIPPER: You too Tiger.
Michael and Tiger sneak a glance at each other. This cat’s not going away.
TIGER: Yeah, thanks. Same to you Skippy.
SKIPPER: Really? Because, I don’t know, I mean it felt alright, and – it’s Skipper by the way – and I’ve been trying out this new grip that maybe…
TIGER: Oh, no, you could really tell. Nice and straight.
SKIPPER: Thanks Tiger. You know it really is a thrill hanging out with you guys.
TIGER: The pleasure’s all ours.
SKIPPER: This is what it’s all about, isn’t it? Sneaking out of the office for a mid-week round in beautiful weather. I almost feel guilty missing work, though, you know?
MICHAEL: I pretty much do whatever I want.
SKIPPER: Oh. Well, yeah…
A Fan calls out from the gallery.
FAN: Hey, can I get a picture?
TIGER: Sure.
Tiger and Michael stand together with their arms around each other’s shoulders. As the Fan readies his camera, Skipper sidles up beside Michael flashing the “thumb’s up.”
The Fan lowers the camera from his face.
FAN: Come on dude.
Skipper backs away and the Fan snaps his picture. Michael and Tiger make a break for the green.
SKIPPER: Hold on fellas, my ball’s right here.
They reluctantly back off to the side as Skipper contemplates a club.
SKIPPER: What would you do here?
MICHAEL: I’d take out the seven iron.
SKIPPER: Really?
MICHAEL: Yeah, then I’d break it over my knee ‘cause I missed the green from 50 yards out.
TIGER: Oh, snap!
Tiger is giggling. Skipper tries to enjoy the good natured ribbing.
MICHAEL: I’m just playin’ with ya.
SKIPPER: Come on, I know that. That’s how me and my boys roll, too.
Michael cocks half a smile as Skipper chips onto the green.
TIGER: So you get out a lot, huh? There are some pretty good public courses down here I bet.
They make their way to the green, where all three balls await.
SKIPPER: Hey, I realize I’m not in a league with you guys, but I’m no slouch. You know, I think I’ve played 18 with the CEO of just about every major bank in the country.
TIGER: Nice.
SKIPPER: Well, I’m sure you fellas have, too. I mean it must be a thrill for you to play with champions of other industries.
They shrug without enthusiasm as they line up their putts.
SKIPPER: Oh, you must play with Jack Welch constantly. Or Phil Knight for sure.
TIGER: He’s caddied for me a couple of times.
Skipper belts a laugh.
SKIPPER: Wait. Seriously?
MICHAEL: You know who’s fun to play with? Clinton.
TIGER: He cheats.
MICHAEL: He cracks me up, though.
SKIPPER: Wow, you play with Bill Clinton?
MICHAEL: When I have time.
SKIPPER: Well, hey, next time you see him – or anyone else in the government – don’t mention these. I could get in trouble.
Skipper digs into his golf bag and pulls out some cigars.
SKIPPER: A special treat from me to you Michael.
MICHAEL: Ah, no thanks man. I mean, no offense, but I’m kind of particular.
SKIPPER: I know.
Skipper leans in for a whisper.
SKIPPER: They’re Cubans.
Michael pulls a stogie from his pocket.
MICHAEL: So are mine. But these are Castro’s brand.
SKIPPER: Wow, that’s impressive. Those are the same cigars he smokes?
MICHAEL: No, he rolls them for me.
SKIPPER: Oh.
Tiger drains the last of their putts.
TIGER: Dang, I’m hot today. Lucky for you I’m not taking your action Mike.
Michael winks at Tiger as Skip mentally counts up his strokes.
MICHAEL: So, what’s the damage Skip?
SKIPPER: You got me again.
MICHAEL: Hey, no worries, right? You’ve still got a few holes to make it up.
Skipper scratches his head uneasily.
MICHAEL: What’s the matter? The stakes aren’t too rich for you are they?
SKIPPER: No, it’s just…I mean, it’s not that I can’t afford it, but my wife would kill me if she knew I was playing for twenty-five hundred a hole.
TIGER: Twenty-five HUNDRED?!
Tiger and Michael break out laughing.
SKIPPER: You mean…?
MICHAEL: You should probably add a zero to that.
TIGER: And bring one of those shiny new Benz’s home to the wife. Oh man! You are fun to play with Skippy.
MICHAEL: The pleasure really is all ours.
FADE OUT: |
