Trust a soccer player to step onto a golf course, go a full 18 holes and then suggest extra time and, when that failed to produce a winner, a golden goal. Or was that a golden hole?
Mark Fish, one of the stars of the Bafana Bafana side that captured the 1996 Africa Cup of Nations, did exactly that in preparation for the inaugural Gary and Vivienne Player Invitational at Sun City this past weekend.
Fish played his practice round with Brian Mitchell, who lifted his WBA junior-lightweight belt at the resort in 1986 just before the world sanctioning body barred South Africa, including the Bophuthatswana homeland, from staging its title bouts.
And completing their three-ball was Yours Truly.
I can’t say whether they, as former professional sportsmen, were simply unable to suppress their competitive urges, or whether they saw me ring the first hole and decided I’d be easy meat, but at the second tee they suggested we play a game of skins at R10 a hole.
In the spirit of the charity drive of the weekend’s festivities, it was suggested the winnings go to our much-needed spotter on the course, Lost City, or as I like to call it, Lost Ball City.
Player, undoubtedly the greatest sports star produced by South Africa with nine Major victories in his career, has pushed this event for decades, making it a staple on the local golfing calendar.
It’s been previously called the Nelson Mandela Invitational and the Gary Player Invitational, and it’s all about raising funds for the Blair Atholl pre-primary school that he and his late wife launched near their farm some 30 years ago.
Testament to the golfing legend’s relevance is his ability to draw some of the country’s top former sports stars across all codes to take part in the weekend festivities.
Sally Little, the first SA woman golfer to lift a Major, was there, alongside Springboks including Victor Matfield, Pat Lambie and Stefan Terblanche, retired cricket stars Herschelle Gibbs and Ashwell Prince and other Bafana heroes like Mark Williams and Shaun Bartlett.
It’s a weekend of action and networking.
The word is that Damian Willemse oozes talent as a Bok flyhalf, even if his kicking was off against Ireland. Let him practise his goal-kicking a little more, says Lambie.
These guys handled serious pressure in their days. For Mitchell, the biggest was his first fight against IBF counterpart Tony Lopez ... For Fish, Orlando Pirates’ two-leg African Champions League final against ASEC Mimosas in 1995.
Bafana Bafana, however, are nowhere, and the feeling is that there’s too much money in the local game, allowing SA players to feel too comfortable at home instead of learning the trade in top leagues in Europe. A mindset change is required, believes Bartlett.
There were also some interesting war stories. The late Marc Batchelor was said to have jumped into the crocodile pit at the par-three 13th at Lost City to play his second shot. I doubt there’s anybody who doesn’t believe that story.
Our par-three experience in the practice round was far tamer. On the first of them, the third hole, which is guarded by a lake, I noticed something long and slippery splashing on the surface of the water. “Is that a fish?” I asked as the other Fish teed up his ball.
Fish and Mitchell were playing off almost identical handicaps — 14 and 15 — and they frequently found themselves halving holes, resulting in carry-overs.
These guys handled serious pressure in their days. For Mitchell, the biggest was his first fight against IBF counterpart Tony Lopez in a unification in his opponent’s backyard in Sacramento.
For Fish, Orlando Pirates’ two-leg African Champions League final against ASEC Mimosas in 1995 was far bigger than the Nations’ Cup at home.
Pirates had drawn the first leg 2-2 at home, and then went to Abidjan as underdogs, with their opponents enjoying two away goals. Pirates won that 1-0.
These two were prepared for about anything except my handicap of 30, which allowed me to steal a few crucial carry-overs.
After 18 I had won, so Fish insisted we press to R50 and play three more holes (he had voiced his determination at various points during the round about not wanting to lose to a journalist, though I had warned him that victors write history). He and Mitchell kindly halved those.
“We’ve got to play a decider,” Fish demanded.
So the three of us and our carts trudged back to the 10th where, somehow, I was left with a six-foot putt to win the day.
“Why don’t you just concede?” suggested Mitchell. “We all know your putt will lip out and I’ll win.”
I took my shot and the ball caught the lip and rolled around the edge for 360 degrees and fell into the hole. Victory was mine.
For the 36-hole tournament Mitchell and I were partnered together in a four-ball alliance alongside Sunshine Tour professional Lyle Rowe and businessman Mario Ferreira.
Despite the incredible efforts of Rowe, who shot nine under par on the first day, Mitchell and I were done, adding little value to our team, apart from some one-liners (which seemed good at the time).
Fish ended up winning the event, alongside professional Brooklin Bailey and businessmen Anthony Phillips and Ashok Pundit.
But I have no doubt that Fish owes some of that triumph to the tough competition Mitchell and I gave him last Friday. Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
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