When Irish Guys Are Smiling

There was widespread disappointment across LCCC when the club cancelled last Saturday's annual St. Patrick's Day Pub Crawl, particularly from our many members of Irish descent who view the importance of celebrating St. Patty's as no less important than their need to periodically ingest oxygen.

Grand Marshalls - 2013 Greenville
Avenue St. Patrick's Day Parade

While the communication from club management cited low member registration as the reason for cancelling the Crawl, The Hosel Rocket has uncovered the real story, obtained in a series of exclusive interviews with Tom Francis, Bill Crowley, and a member of the LCCC golf maintenance staff, Jose Canjoosee.

Per the schedule published by the club, the Pub Crawl was scheduled to commence in the golf maintenance shed adjacent to the #10 green, from where participants would walk (stagger) to a series of keg stations located at the Tennis Center, the Tom Thumb supermarket on MacArthur, Mike Jackson's home in The Lakes of Las Colinas, and finally back to the Golf Shop. Cold kegs of beeer had been staged at each location in preparation for the arrival of 194 thirsty LCCC members, all of whom were ready to get their Irish on.

According to Mr. Canjoosee, the unraveling of the Pub Crawl began approximately one hour before the 6:00 PM start time, when Tom Francis and Bill Crowley arrived at the golf maintenance shed for an impromptu "pre-party", along with a few inebriated Irish friends they'd met at the Greenville Avenue St. Patrick's Day Parade earlier that day. It's here where our story begins.

"As you know, Bill and I were named Grand Marshalls for this year's parade," said Francis. "We'd just arrived at the end of the parade route, and decided to stop into The Dubliner to give out the rest of our beads, sign some autographs, and enjoy a couple of pints. Before we could order our beers, this group of crazy guys approached our table, dressed up like leprechauns and drunk off their asses. One of them pinched Bill's cheeks, then complimented me on my snazzy St. Patty's day shorts. They said they were all friends of David Feherty, and had just flown in from Ireland. I said, 'well, in that case, pull up a chair!'"

"Which way to LCCC?"

Upon being asked by Crowley what brought them to America, one of the lads, Miles O'Toole, replied " a f*cking airplane - what else!?", at which point all the Irishmen fell out of their chairs, convulsing in gales of laughter on the bar room floor. Pausing only briefly to light a fart (which set an adjacent tablecloth on fire) and order another beer (some of which he used to douse the flames), O'Toole explained that he and his friends had come to Dallas on holiday, and were hoping to play some golf.

Imbued with several gallons of Guinness and the St. Patrick's Day spirit, and eager to show the visiting lads from Ireland a good time, Francis blurted out "Fantastic! You can play at our club! We even have a Pub Crawl scheduled for tonight, too! You can meet some of the guys, and we'll book a tee time for tomorrow. Let's take my car!!"

After strapping Crowley to the roof of the car to accommodate the rest of the group seated inside, Francis tore down Lower Greenville and made straight for LCCC. It was shortly thereafter that Canjoosee, who was purposefully raking a bunker on #10, heard the sound of squealing tires, and turned just in time to see Francis' SUV barrelling around the corner of the Golf Shop on two wheels, from where it sped past the Douglass Clock, narrowly missed the gazebo by the #1 tee, and went careening down the middle of #10 toward the maintenance shed, where the pre-party for the Pub Crawl was about to commence.

"I jumped into my Cooshman and drove back to the shed, muy rapido," said Canjoosee, who stopped briefly along the way to pick up two of Mr. Francis' hubcaps, 11 Scotty Cameron putters, a half dozen empty beer cans, several golf instruction books, several dozen unopened letters from Adam Scott, and a bunch of green beads, all of which had been ejected from the SUV as it hurtled down #10.

"When I got to the shed, I went into the bathroom to answer the call of nature, only to find something very strange going on in there," gasped Canjoosee.. "Dios mio! I think it scars me for life! Like that day I see Senor Allen playing golf in a dress! Ay, caramaba!"

Unbeknownst to Canjoosee, Francis, Crowley, or their new friends, they were all being watched by GM Ron Woolard, via a network of close circuit cameras he'd installed around the club. As an unfortunate aside, it was this same surveillance system that had led to the recent dismissal of LCCC's former course superintendent, where he was caught on video putting too much soap in the ball washer on #11 tee, causing him to exceed his maintenance budget for the month and prompt his dismissal.

As Woolard watched the pre-party unfold on the screen in front of him, it became evident that things were getting out of hand, leaving him no choice but to cancel the Pub Crawl before the rank and file membership arrived and was asked to partake in the lesser-known St. Patty's tradition depicted on the following video.  While ClubCorp initially filed a restraining order to suppress the video (citing internal HR policy), The Hosel Rocket was successful in obtaining the footage via the protections afforded our citizens through the U.S. Freedom of Information Act. Be advised, it is not for the faint of heart.