Greenskeeper Invokes Che Guevara, Gets Laid on 17th Hole

“Manny” is the assistant head greenskeeper at an exclusive golf course in Massachusetts. The 28-year-old Boston-area native shared some of the naughtiness that he’s engaged in during his eight-year career cutting grass for the upper class. For someone of modest means, he’s managed to nail rich chicks and shrug off the current energy crisis….

TNA: You’re a greenskeeper. I’ve heard they’re naughty. There’s this guy, Carl Spackler….

Manny: Yeah, funny. Everybody brings that up, the “Caddyshack” thing. That movie has set back the greenskeeping industry by 30 years. If it hadn’t made greenskeepers look like morons, maybe we’d have more Harvard grads cutting our greens. Then again, maybe not.

But, yeah, I’ve definitely got a little Carl in me. But I’ve also got a little Ty Webb and Danny Noonan in me, too. Carl couldn’t play golf or get laid to save his ass. I’m pretty good at doing both.

Oh yeah? Have you ever fucked a girl on the golf course?

Oh, sure, a bunch of times. I worked at a golf course on Cape Cod – I’m not going to give the name because my girlfriend’s family are members of the course – and had sex with three women on the 17th green all in the span of about ten days.

Why the 17th?

It was easily accessable from the beach. You could walk for a few minutes along the beach, then hop a fence and be on the green. It was also secluded. You couldn’t see the green from the beach, only the tee. And no one hung around the tee at night. One of the girls was actually the daughter of the club president.

Seriously? That sounds like something straight out of “Caddyshack.”

I know, I know. She was a real slut, too. I ran into her a bunch of times at a bar about a half mile from the course. I didn’t think she knew who I was – there was a little bit of a class thing going on. She, as you can imagine, came from a pretty wealthy family and I come from a blue collar family. She played tennis at the club. I cut grass.

I was standing at the bar one night and she came up to me with two shots in her hand. She handed me one of the shots and said, “Let’s drink! To [club name]!” So we downed the shots. Then we talked about my job and she made all these really obvious double entendres.

Like what?

Oh, like, “You can mow my lawn any time.” I’ve been by her house, by the way. [laughing] She’s got a big, big lawn. She also said shit like “So, Mr. Greenskeeper, how long does it take you to plug a hole?” Looking back, she was a raunchy little bitch. I miss her.

And what did you say?

Well, I mean, I knew I was going to have sex with her, so I had a little fun. I told her it took me at least a half hour to plug a hole, that I did a very thorough job. I told her that if the hole was really wet, that it sometimes took longer to plug. She ate it up.

You had sex with her that night?

Oh, yeah. Hell yeah! We did a couple more shots. Then I asked her if she wanted to get high with Che Guevara on the 17th hole.

What do you mean?

Just like it sounds: getting high with Che Guevara. I told her that if you looked out at the ocean from a certain spot on the green, one of the rocks in the ocean looked like the head of Che Guevara.

I thought you couldn’t see the ocean from the green.

No, you could. You just couldn’t see the beach.

Got it. And what about the Guevara image? Was that all bullshit?

No, it was true. It was well-known phenomenon among local kids and greenskeepers, that if you stood on the green at night – especially in the moonlight—and looked at this one rock jutting out from the sea, it looked just like that famous photo of Che Guevara. It was uncanny.

So, after I told her this, she was just enthralled. I mean, it blew her away. She had to see it. She’d never heard of this, and yet, here she was, the daughter of the club president. We walked to the 17th, and I told her that it was tradition to smoke a joint before paying homage to Che. So, we got high. Afterwards, I paused for dramatic effect, then pointed out to the rock and said, “Viva el Che!” And there it was, this massive image of Che Guevara, glowing in the moonlight. It was pretty cool, I have to say.

What happened next?

I spewed some shit about the proletariat and the rise of the greenskeeper class. She put her arms around me and looked up to kiss me….

And?

We made out, then had sex. We kept our clothes on. I had my shorts around one leg. She hiked up her skirt and took off her panties. The sex was great, but I got eaten alive by mosquitos.

And you did this with two other women that week?

Yep. One was with a girl, I don’t even know her name. Met her at the same bar. The third one was my friend’s sister’s college roommate. We were hanging at a beach party about a mile away. You know, the sex was OK each time, but not great. We got high, but there was something missing. Maybe it was the class difference. And the bugs just killed me, man. There were mosquitos, but these chiggers that lived in the grass, too, so that when you had sex on the grass you’d wake up the next day with bites everywhere.

When was the last time you had sex with a girl on the course?

Back in July. But it was with the girl I’m seeing right now. It wasn’t anything crazy. She just said that she wanted to try it. I didn’t care one way or the other. The course that I work at now is more open, and there are a lot more people who walk around at night. So, we had to do it quickly. At this course, it’s the green on the 12th. There wasn’t any of the mystical bullshit that the course on Cape Cod had, unfortunately. But there weren’t the mosquitos, either.

You said you’re good at golf? Are you allowed to play on your course?

Yeah, after 4 p.m. during the summer. I’m pretty good. I shoot in the high 80s. There’s some naughtiness there, too. I’m not supposed to have any friends on the course with me, but I bring ‘em on. I’ll play with three of my high school buddies. They buy me dinner and drinks afterwards.

Any other naughtiness that you greenskeepers partake in?

We steal gas. I shouldn’t tell you that, though, because that’s more theft than naughtiness.

How do you do that?

We have a gas pump at the maintenance shed. All golf courses do. All those vehicles driving around the course need to get their gas somewhere. So, we have an unleaded pump that we keep unlocked during working hours and I’ll fill my truck with it every other week when no one’s around. We have to sign out the gas, and I just sign it out to one of the club’s pickup trucks. I’ve been doing it for four years and never had a problem.

So, the gas crunch isn’t affecting you that much?

[laughing] Not much.