The field is wide open for this year’s first WDI tournament due to the recent softball injury to Little Stevie Bolster, a five-time WDI champ. His absence improves the odds for the rest of the field. So here they are – the odds and the contestants who are vying for the coveted WDI aluminum cup.

Jorge Kapalua (7-4)

Vying for WDI Golfer of the Year; last year’s WDI champ at Michigan over eight grueling courses; a second place finisher at this year’s Gasparilla (did I say 12^th flight) means he’s for real; a fan favorite; good-looking Hawaiian hails from Puerto Rico.

Snooter (10-1)

A legend in his own mind; shot in the 70s in the ’95 and ’97 Pinehurst WDI’s; is secretly working on his game; could be the darkhorse of the tournament; knows Pinehurst like the back of his penis.

Bro-Neck (12-1)

Since retiring from Aeroflot Airlines, game has improved dramatically as seen from his co-championship with Kapalua at Bay Hill – Lake Nona in ’05; has gone from a pretender to a contender; speaks fluent Russian.

Nick Leb (aka The Lebster Boy) (20-1)

A rookie retiree in his 50s (what’s that about) with a 10 handicap from North Carolina; has made his money in the pharmaceutical business selling drugs; local knowledge being from Carolina a plus; rooming with Snooter a real liability, should bring lots of hearing aids.

“Joe Bob” Pesce (25-1)

Rookie on WDI tour as well; has the game to contend; we’ll see which game Joe Bob brings; is consistently inconsistent, however; but has good golf pedigree; word of caution, don’t cross him on the golf course; you saw what happened to the bartender on Good Fellas; a top notch pediatric physician; if he grabs your balls and asks you to cough – you better hope it’s a real exam.

Boynie (30-1)

A perennial second place finisher (ask Sharon); won’t know what role his hernia surgery plays in the tourney (even if he had it – rumor has it that Boynie was spotted at a Nicklaus/Flick golf school the weekend of his surgery disguised as a used car salesman); will have to play his “A” game in order to win this tourney; usually brings his “D” and “F” games, however.

Fish (200-1)

Could be the winner of the WDI “Flash in the Pan Award” which is an oft-used phrase for the England ’04 WDI champ; has missed the cut in six straight tournaments since England; his handicap is going up and down faster than a frickin thermometer; dug himself a hole in the ’06 Michigan WDI that he couldn’t crawl out of; needs a hot putter in order to contend; needs two new bionic arms also in order to contend.

The Neck (201-1)

A washed up former Hitler youth; lives on yesteryear’s press clippings; virtually has no chance of winning, even though Pinehurst was the scene of his greatest victories; over the years, his strength and height have dramatically ebbed; he is now 5′ 1″; can only hit driver 165 yard (with the wind); after two nice martinis – usually genial personality turns into a megalomaniac, spurting out words like blitzkreig, luftwaffe, and sieg heil; has seen the Good German (starring George Clooney) 21 times; thinks it’s his autobiography.

Feeling quite despondent and depressed after his second WDI tourney collapse, the Neck secretly doubted his ability to be competitive again. While he thought Salmonella poisoning by his fellow WDI competitors was the cause of his downfall, he couldn’t prove it. So he embarked on a new route – self improvement. Miraculously, after talking privately with swing guru Butch Harmon and spending several sessions with golf shrink Bob Rotella, the Neck felt he was emotionally ready to play golf at his highest level again.

He even traveled back to his homeland, Germany, and chatted with his great uncle, Baron Von Hitler, about taking his lessons from “blitzkrieg warfare” and transferring it into golf.

All he had to do was to find a game with a couple schmoes and then take their money. The setting was perfect, Thursday, May 17th Kapalua’s 60th birthday. The schmoes, Fish, Hodge, and Kapalua were present but were unaware of the Neck’s plans.

Steel-eyed and full of piss and vinegar, the Neck strode to the first tee at Palma Ceia and confidently smacked the ball down the middle and then repeated this maneuver again and again. Yes, the Neck was back. He once again had that faraway gaze in his eyes remembering the past – leading his panzer group across the Polish border in 1939; doing a jig with his great, great uncle in Compiegne, France after the French surrendered and winning at Pinehurst in ’97.

Actually, the Neck played scary good and managed to pummel his fellow WDI competitors on this great day, and to add insult to injury, he aced number 13 with a six iron from 180 yards. The ball bounced once six feet from the hole and found its way to the bottom of the cup.

After slurping down his fourth free beer (Fish and Kapalua actually had to chase the Neck down from the parking lot after the round was over and drag him back to the men’s grill), Fish exclaimed, “Ach to Lieber, the Neck is back!” He may well be back, but will Torrey Pines take its toll? Tune in August for the results.

Yours in golf,

Rick Reilly

The 16^th WDI Invitational in Northern Michigan was touted as the finest field in its 12 year history. Six former champs (Neck, Bolt, Broneck, Snoot, Fish and Kapalua) were vying for the Pewter Cup for the first time on Michigan soil. Six of the eight courses were five-star championship layouts (Black Lake, Bay Harbor, Arcadia Bluff, The Bear at Traverse and The Treetops Masterpiece and Signature).

The Contestants

Tensions ran high as BoIt was competing for his third consecutive title. Neck was trying to bounce back after last winning almost 10 years ago in Pinehurst, as well as Snoot Doggy Dogg at Cherokee in August of ’96. Broneck, playing well above expectations after tying in May of ’05 with Kapalua at Lake Nona/Bay Hill, planned to move in contention since he had retired and was spending more time on his game. Boynie Stein, everybody’s favorite dark horse, was carrying a 23 handicap and hungrily looking for his first title. Fish and/or Cut Bait was trying to tell the golf world that his ’04 win in England by three over Boynie was no fluke.

Matt (Mudman) Mudano, promising rookie of the year, (you better ask Rosen about this) was feeling cocky enough to predict victory, and, of course, long-time journeyman, Kapalua the fans’ favorite – who had a chip the size of Neck’s head on his shoulder, who started off like a zephyr in so many past WDIs only to fade away like the early morning’s dew.

Tournament Began

Boynie Stein started slowly tied for fourth, but after three rounds, he vaulted into the lead and held it till the sixth round. Going into the final day at The Bear, he was tied for third only five points behind Bolt. He would, however, finish second for the third time in the WDI after failing to take advantage of Kapalua on the back nine at The Bear. Mudman, vying for rookie of the year honors, (look at Rocket Rosen, Dominican Republic ’06) jumped out of the gate after the first round tied for first with Kapalua but faded away like an old soldier and fell to third after the fifth round only to end up tied for fifth overall. “After his dog was kidnapped” at Arcadia Bluffs, he was emotional distraught and psychologically finished.

Former WDI Champ “Snoot Doggy Dogg” started slowly at sixth, moved up with fine iron play to second after three rounds, but faded after the Shankman showed up. He finished tied for fifth with Matt “I’m Fucked in the Head” Mudano.

Fish or Cut Bait had one disastrous round that defined his week and that was a first round high of minus 22 that kept him “out of water” for the entire week. What coulda, woulda, shoulda, never materialized.

The Bolt, five-time WDI Champ, had never finished but in three places, first, third or fourth in his illustrious WDI career. No second place for the Bolster. But this time, after starting off slowly (following reconstructive knee, shoulder, hip, and elbow surgery) at second place then falling all the way down to sixth after the Tradition, he made his famous trademark come back at Arcadia Bluffs and Bay Harbor to take command of first place at minus one, two shots ahead of Kapalua, and five shots ahead of Boynie going into the final round at The Bear. But alas, he ran out of gas and wracked by self pity and personal doubt, as well as shitty luck, was never in contention and finished tied for third with Broneck.

The Necks

Meanwhile back at Frankenmuth, the Neck brothers had their own demons. Neck’s 60^th annual high school reunion had him driving back and forth three hundred miles per day, sapping his strength and rendering his game defenseless. Prior to leaving, due to a tragic personal loss, the Neck was alone in seventh place. Trying to uplift the infamous Nuechterlein name, Broneck was playing his usual steady game, starting at third place, moving up to a tie for first after the second day and, eventually, entering the last day at The Bear in fourth place at minus 11, ten shots off the lead. Bro was hoping for a recurrence of his play in ’05 at Lake Nona when he shot a WDI record 73 that would earn him his first co-championship, but, alas, The Bear took its toll on Broneck, and all he could do was muster a third-place tie with the fading Bolt.

 A Bare Finish

Meanwhile, back at the condo, Kapalua paced like a caged wolverine. Starting off the tourney tied with Mudman at first place, he seemed poised to make his standard charge only to be overcome by shingles, bad play, bad gas, poor swing mechanics, etc. He fell to fifth place after four rounds, moved back to third after Fazio Premier, and then shooting a sterling 68 at Bay Harbor was alone at second, one behind Bolt going into the final round at The Bear. Wearing his traditional red shirt, black Hugo Boss trousers, Kapalua vaulted out of the starting gate at The Bear startling his playing partners, Bolt, Boynie, and Broneck (the killer bees) with his 325 yard drives, precise sand game, and overall excellent play, but after 14 holes Kapalua was falling apart like a cheap suit at the Men’s Wearhouse. Two triples in three holes reduce his lead and the killer bees were poised to make a run, but on a “bear of a course” Bolt, Bro, and Boynie all missed easy two-foot birdie putts on consecutive holes enabling Kapalua to limp home with an easy seven-stroke victory over Boynie “his third straight second-place finish” and eight strokes over Bolt and Broneck.

Kapalua had won the 16th WDI in Michigan over eight grueling courses and stated over iced tea and crackers at the championships dinner, “What that was?” in typical Snoot Doggy Dog style.

We all look forward to the next WDI in ’07 wherever it may be.

Yours in golf,

Rick Reilly

P.S. The final tabulations were as follows:

 1          Kapalua          -5

2          Stein               -12

3 tie     Bolt                 -13

3 tie    Broeneck       -13

5 tie     Snoot              -22

5 tie    Mudano          -22

7          Neck               -22 DQ

8          Fish                 -24

The fans were going wild; gray-haired, somewhat inebriated, old ladies were cheering; grown, gay men were crying, and tasty, young, college co-eds were nervously vying for Kapalua’s attention as he strode briskly down 18 at Bay Hill tied for the Championship with fellow, long-time, journeyman, BroNeck. The enormous crowd that had at one time jostled each other all morning to get in position to witness another trademark late charge by The Neck somehow knew he would fall short of his goal (which he did). They left that sinking ship and joined the drama on 18. As it was, Bolter, two-time, European WDI Winner, Stein, and last year’s WDI Winner, Fish or cut-bait (and possibly the only WDI member besides The Neck to go from first to worst), all had fallen apart like cheap suits at The Men’s Wearhouse and were walking around Bay Hill aimlessly babbling to themselves and taking one too many snapshots.

Before I finish the story, let me digress a tad from this wonderful drama and inquire to what the injured, yet dangerous Duke, and the always gritty Snoot Doggy Dog were up to. It appears that their carousing around the night before this final round had sapped them of their ability to orchestrate a final charge themselves.

With the M.A.S.H. unit lurking behind anxiously waiting for their 911 call, The Duke’s back finally gave out leaving many pre-teen girls gasping. The Snooter meanwhile had left the course at 15 to fly to New York for a surprise board meeting.

So back to the story. Standing on 18, it was going to come down to their tee shots. The usually reliable BroNeck, who had shot a WDI record 73 the day before to move into the lead, did the impossible and hit his first errant tee shot of the tournament. Kapalua, meanwhile, had also set a record for the number of houses and innocent bystanders struck due to his wide arching tee shots. But this time, Kapalua stepped up to the plate and struck his tee shot straight and true down the middle.

In conclusion, they both bogied 18 and tied for the Championship. End of story.

P.S. to BroNeck, you left without paying one half of the winner’s amount. You owe me. If I don’t receive it, I’m coming after you.

As the late Donald Ross once said, “The man who doesn’t feel emotionally stirred when he golfs at Pinehurst beneath those blue skies and smells the pine fragrance in his nostrils is a guy who is fucked in the head.” Actually, those weren’t really the exact words of Donald Ross, but the implication is obvious, you’re in the golf Mecca of the world.

Neck’s Early Years

A middle-aged, short, squat homely man in 1995 re-read these lines so often that, by the beginning of the ’95 WDI tournament in August, he was “raring to go.” Young Mike “Neck” Nuechterlein, born of German immigrants, who left Nazi Germany on a small rowboat across the raging English Channel without a schilling to their name had an upbringing that would bring tears to your eyes.

Growing up in small, rural Frankenmeuth, Michigan (population 178), the middle of several Nuechterlein siblings, he started working at age three, shining the shoes of soldiers at a nearby army base. At age 10, young Mike would steal empty pop bottles from trash cans and sell them to the Mesick Indians for double their value. (It made the Mesick Indians sick.) Persecuted in high school due to his height, he vowed never to be bullied around again. He, therefore, bought platform shoes and grew a moustache (to make him look older). He got into golf accidentally; he was pawning his dad’s golf clubs one day during a lunch break from the local jail (he had already pawned his two brothers’ clubs) when he suddenly blurted out “Ach de lieber,” “let me try this sport.” With that, the “Neck had found his niche.”

The Players

At the ’95 Pinehurst WDI, Neck entered the contest not as a contender but as a pretender sporting a 12 handicap, and was hopeful of winning (however, all through his life he was a loser, never won anything). The other participants who challenged young Mike that autumn day were an awesome, well-known veteran group. Guys like everyone’s favorite all American Jorge Kapalua, the steel-nerved Snoot Doggy Dog, his older and more handsome bother, Bro Neck, his main foe, the always unflappable FloJo and several other “puds.”

The Tournament

The contest started off slowly with Snooter (handicap four) shooting a 78 on Pinehurst number 7 compared to Neck’s 88 (handicap 12) and FloJo’s 89 (handicap 13). Kapalua had incurred a bad round of food poisoning the night before and literally played his guts out shooting a 92. By day two, at Pinehurst number 2, Snooter fired a nifty 78 again to lead by three over Neck, five over FloJo, eight over Kapalua, and 30 over Robo the wonder boy who was currently in last place. Day three was moving day (everyone had to move out of the beautiful villa near the clubhouse due to bad gas that had seeped through somehow from Kapalua’s bedroom). When play finally resumed on Pinehurst number 5, Neck’s 85 had him one stroke ahead of Snooter’s 83 but one shot behind Flojo (85). Depression and anxiety set in.

That night as the Neck prayed in front of the statute of St. Frankenmeuth (he didn’t join the others for dinner) he asked the Saint not only for courage, strength, and a blonde 42-20-38, but also for lots of money- he had been rolled the night before when he passed out after dinner and was left on the putting green by his pals.

Midweek Drama

As the morning of the third day dawned, so did the Neck’s game. The sound of his 185 yard drives reverberated through the pine trees; his precise iron shots and keen putting shone through, and at the end of the day (an oft-used phrase), his 79 stood tall and alone at first place with one round to go: on Sunday a rematch with Pinehurst number 2. Tied for second, nine shots off, were the unflappable FloJo (92) and Snooter (81). The 93 shot by Kapalua and BroNeck dashed their hopes as well as Chas’ 96, Logan’s 90, and Robo’s 103.

The Comeback Kid

The morning of September 3, 1995 opened with hazy skies, warm temps and a large cock crowing outside Neck’s room. “This was an omen,” Neck thought, an omen that would spur him to victory. He had put all his financial resources on the line for Sunday (all 40 pieces of silver), but was he too cocky, too confident, too full of himself, so to speak. He would soon find out. The Neck, up at his usual 4:10 a.m. time, decided to consolidate his thoughts and get ready for the day’s battle.

Pinehurst number 2, the battle ground, is not for lightweights and/or amateurs. It will kick ass and take names. Neck, however, playing way too cautiously with no self-confidence, started to leak from all sides on the front nine. FloJo, smelling blood, attacked at will and came from nine shots back, tying the Neck at the 14th hole. Could he pull this win out? If not, his collapse would be monumental almost as bad as Napoleon’s debacle at Waterloo, Norman’s defeat at the Master’s (several times). He could hear his fellow WDI’ers ridiculing his play and laughing after the match over a few beers, especially Kapalua, “Boy, does the Neck suck, or what?” Finally, in a frantic last-ditch attempt, the Neck dug deep in order to find the Mojo to beat FloJo. Standing on the 15th tee, he took a deep breath and let his mind wander. He thought of his sordid past in Frankenmeuth, of embarrassing high school taunts, of his good wife, Katherine, of Bill Miller, of Adolf Hitler, and of falling into the water at Tarpon Springs on a blind date (uh, his date’s dog was okay) with Chas in 1970. Then, inexplicably, he found his game, laddie. After parring the famous 18th at Pinehurst number two, he had shot 85 to FloJo’s 87 and Snooter’s 80 to win by three. Exhausted, yet exhilarated by his stunning victory, the Neck basked in the warm aftermath and was swept up by a horde of tasty toots who had stormed 18 and carried him away into WDI immortality.

THE END