A Series of Guest Blogs by an out-of-state Fish Report reader originally from this area about fond memories of growing up in Midwestern Ohio during the 50’s & 60’s.
Another Hole-in-One Memory
Last week’s blog referenced a hole-in-one by a recently deceased friend. Well, I was reminded of another hole-in-one on the very same par three by a former Green Bay Packer, now also deceased, who I had the opportunity to play golf with a number of years ago. His name was Norm Masters, #78 pictured above, and he played under legendary coach Vince Lombardi, also pictured above with Norm’s autograph in the highlighted area along with the autographs of all his 1962 NFL Championship teammates. Norm also played on Michigan State's 1955 Rose Bowl championship team under Duffy Daughtery.
My golf round with with Norm came one Sunday morning when one of their usual foursome could not play. His regular playing compatriots routinely had the first tee time reserved each Sunday so they could play quickly and then get to 11:00 mass with their families. They paired me up with Norm cause they had all heard his stories countless times. So I was their guinea pig with strict instructions to play fast and not hold up the group. Knowing that Norm was a former NFL lineman, I appreciated riding with him to hear his stories for the first time. He did not disappoint!
When we got to the infamous par three, he proceeded to tell me how he had hosted several of his former Packer teammates years earlier for golf. At that 198 yard hole, he was the last golfer in the group to tee off and he luckily holed the shot. But his teammates pulled the silent treatment on him, literally ignoring the accomplishment, climbing into their carts, heading for the green without acknowledging the feat in any way. They proceeded to go to their balls, hit their next shots, and finish the hole without ever saying one word to Norm about the hole-in-one or anything else. And as they were walking back to their carts, the former Packer teammate keeping score asked Norm what he got on the hole and he responded, "A ho-hum hole-in-one, you $&%@ ^&%&$!”.
Norm also had some funny Lombardi stories as well. Once during practice, a rainstorm interrupted an afternoon scrimmage, and Lombardi ordered all of the team into a nearby shed to be protected from the rain. Norm found a pail of ice chips and when Vince wasn’t looking, he would throw some against the wall of the tin shed. It sounded just like hail. Lombardi believed it and called off the scrimmage. They loved it.
And Norm was always the best source of rumors about the team, since during training camp and while on the road, his room was always directly across from the coach's office, probably because he was the orneriest of the bunch. Apparently Norm would tippy-toe out across the hall every time Vince would raise his voice. He'd put his ear to the door and catch all the details. He knew about possible trades, cuts, everything - until Coach figured it out and his room location was changed.
A photocopy of the following check dated in 1959 was found on-line signed by Vince Lombardi and made out to Norm. I would love to hear ole Norm tell the story behind this payment!
Another story Norm shared, "When I go to these celebrity golf tournaments and play in a foursome, someone in the gallery always asks, ‘Which one is the celebrity?’ Norm would respond, Well, I’m the guy who is seen in a lot of plastic surgery commercials. I’m the ‘before’ picture.”
Norm played in the early days of his career without face-masks, so as a lineman, his nose was broken countless times. The photos don’t lie!
After his Packer days, Norm ended up owning a number of Kentucky Fried Chicken franchises across the mid-west. And he always told this KFC joke about his work:
"After watching sales falling off for three straight months at Kentucky Fried Chicken, the Colonel calls up the Pope and asks for a favor. The Pope says, "What can I do?" The Colonel says, "I need you to change the daily prayer from, 'Give us this day our daily bread' to 'Give us this day our daily chicken'. If you do it, I'll donate 10 Million Dollars to the Vatican." The Pope replies, "I am sorry. That is the Lord's prayer and I can not change the words." So the Colonel hangs up. After another month of dismal sales, the Colonel panics, and calls again. "Listen your Excellency. I really need your help. I'll give you $50 million dollars if you change the words of the daily prayer from 'Give us this day our daily bread' to 'Give us this day our daily chicken.'" And the Pope responds, "It is very tempting, Colonel Sanders. The church could do a lot of good with that much money. It would help us support many charities. But, again, I must decline. It is the Lord's prayer, and I can't change the words." So the Colonel gives up again. After two more months of terrible sales the Colonel gets desperate. "This is my final offer, your Excellency. If you change the words of the daily prayer from, 'Give us this day our daily bread' to 'Give us this day our daily chicken' I will donate $100 million to the Vatican." The Pope replies, "Let me get back to you." So the next day, the Pope calls together all of his bishops and he says, "I have some good news and I have some bad news. The good news is that KFC is going to donate $100 million to the Vatican." The bishops rejoice at the news. Then one asks about the bad news. The Pope replies, "The bad news is that we lost the Wonder Bread account."
Norm said in those days you had to play through the pain otherwise you were not paid. And that’s exactly how he lived his life, never complaining about his many ailments resulting from football injuries. In fact, after he was diagnosed with stage 4 terminal cancer, he swore his doctor to secrecy, never telling anyone even his wife and family about the cancer. His “sudden” death in 2011 was a shock to all of us. Norm’s tactics remind me of one of my Ford retiree groups that gets together monthly for lunch. We had a rule that no one can talk about medical problems because we were finding that’s all that was being discussed once the topic came up. However, that practice backfired on us a few years back when suddenly one of our regular members did not show up. Someone called his home and found out from a family member that he had died! We’ve since relented a little bit on what can be discussed.
Someday I’ll share the story of my hole-in-one, but I first have to make one! My closest attempt came on that same par three playing with my brother. The ball ended up about 5 inches directly behind the hole; close but no cigar!
The date in the aft part of the ship was 31 December 1899.
