I went golfing last week. The VP of sales needed to “practice” for some boondoggle in the states. I didn’t mind helping out with the practice session. We went to Binhai in the north of Shanghai. VP has a driver, Mr. Shu. It took at least one hour to get there because after we ran out of freeway, we were on a two lane road that became a one lane road every 200 meters. As such, Mr. Shu was doing a lot of decision making at high speed in order to avoid busses, dogs, workers, ladies on bikes, dudes on scooters, old men and rich Shanghainese trying to figure out where second gear is in their new Mercedes.
When we entered the golf complex, it did not feel like China. We rolled past the helipad and up to the bag drop. Once we exited the car, it started to feel like China again as our handler/sales lady greeted us. We promptly had 5 people searching the van for our bags and other golf gear. Mr. Shu had to tell them to get out of there as we had nothing and needed to rent everything. The clubhouse closely resembled the lobby of a 5-star hotel including the 10 workers who were all eager to get us checked in. The VP speaks Chinese so he told them what we wanted. Even though the instructions were quite clear that we wanted two rounds and some clubs, the utter panic/confusion/unexplained need to look really busy caused all of the staff to run around bumping into each other and do a lot of yelling behind the counter. Meanwhile, our hostess/handler/sales lady was working me hard to become a member. Her name was Sylvia and she gave me full cost/benefit breakdown of joining. We had to stop by the pro shop for, well for everything. There were 5 people helping us. I think the VP told Sylvia I might join as she was still explaining how great my life would be if I would join while I picked out some balls and tees.
Eventually Sylvia led us out to the starter’s house. It was manned by 6 people. We met our caddies. Number 293 and number 509. They were a couple of girls from Hunan province that looked like they were about 15 both wearing bright green vests and bright yellow knickers. I think the bright colors were so we didn’t lose them. They paired us with another Chinese guy who had a swing coach/girlfriend as well as his brightly clad caddie. Sylvia wished us a good round and said she would find us when we were done. I was sure of that.
The course was an immaculate links style that loved to incorporate a bunker about 180 yards dead center from the tee box. Number 509 had no doubts to my ability as she told me to use the driver on every hole except the par threes. Actually, I’m not sure what she said but I think she was telling me to swing away. Things actually went quite well for a few holes. Number 509 was good with yardage and okay with club selection. She was best at cheering for me.
In short order, both the VP and I started to unravel. When your ball goes astray, your caddies will yell “Can Cho!” all in unison. We started to get pretty tired of hearing #509, #293, the other caddie and the swing coach/girlfriend yell “Can Cho!”. So we switched from golfing to drinking beer while hitting balls around. I kept trying to get #509 to have a cold beer. Of course it was a joke and I’m sure she has never had anything stronger than watermelon juice. 509 showed more caddying ability in her excellent beer holding skills. She was also good at finding the balls that I kept whacking into the Chinese bushes. After a while, the VP came over and told me we were down to the two balls we were playing. That prompted a new task for 509 and 293. They now had to find extra balls in the bushes for us.
Eventually we made it through the end of the round. We laughed our heads off when we found that 509 and 293 had marked us for at least 20 strokes less than we took. We tipped them well, said good night and went over to pay in the clubhouse. The way they do it in China is to charge you after the round. You have an account that you settle at the end. There we found Sylvia waiting to see if we wanted to join the club. We both said no, partly due to the fact that it was way too hard for us and also because it was inconveniently located down a torn up road about 2 hours from downtown.
We grabbed a couple of travel beers for the long trip (China doesn’t care what you do in your car as long as you don’t run anybody over). We also took Sylvia with us. I don’t know why or how, but somehow, she was riding shotgun on the way home. It’s just how it happens in China sometimes. Mr. Shu had to work extra hard to dodge old people on the way back as it was dark out. It was actually a better ride for me because I could not see what was going on out there. Plus we were a little distracted with Sylvia’s continued efforts to get us to join.
Eventually, we got Sylvia back to her home which was down an alley down an alley. She gave us one last chance to join, then said a cheerful good night as she jumped into the alley.
All in all, Chinese golf is a lot like American golf. It just involved a lot of people, yelling, selling and ridiculous action. Just like the rest of China. I like it.
