The Story of PAR

PARGAZER - He who gazes into the night sky and marvels at the constellation Golfulus The Golfer, swing perfectly on-plane, club head pointing toward Venus and the North Star on the tee.

This web site is brought to you by me and my friend Par, who we call that because his initials just happen to be P.A.R., an interesting coincidence for a golf nut of some repute and a legend in his own mind. He is shy by nature, not all that happy about his new found gift, which he describes as "Golf Sight" and prefers to keep a low profile.

Crazy, you ask? Well, Par does not sit around in a dark room and wait for visions; he is a player of some ability who loves nothing more than getting out on his favorite course. It's just due to circumstances that you will read about here that he came to be a sort of golfing visionary.

He is well-traveled, has played golf in more places than he can remember and is a life-long student of the game. He provides us with regular doses of golf wisdom gathered over years of playing and does this out of his love for the game and a passion to share the good things he sees happening to fellow golfers everywhere.

Par does not claim to be AC (astrologically correct) and his "visions" are confined to only those people who play golf. His talent seems to focus on an analysis of each birth sign as it relates to the game and a sort of "prediction" based on what he interprets from the position of the stars within Golfulus.

The basis of the story he told to me and the reasons he wishes to remain anonymous will become clear to you as you peruse these pages. Make no mistake; Par is a living, breathing golfer who (by accident) just happens to possess this uncanny ability to gaze into the future of golfers. Believe what you will, he chooses to share this gift with you, fellow golfers. Enjoy it in the spirit in which it is given, with tongue planted firmly in cheek.

It happened one day…

Not too long ago, Par was a regular member of a Saturday foursome that, come rain or shine, teed it up at the local muni. This particular Saturday was to prove a test of golfing fortitude for all of them and not a one suspected anything more unusual happening than getting a little wet. After all, it was threatening to storm even before they arrived and conditions were worsening by the minute. Pulling into the parking lot of the course it became doubtful that they would even tee it up at all. Huge, black clouds were low overhead and a swirling, north wind was blowing so hard that the pins were bent over, flags snapping like pistol shots. Even though the temperature had dropped 15 degrees from the locker room to the first tee they started out and got the first five holes in before all heck broke loose. Bogeys were like birdies that first five holes but Par got off to a particularly phenomenal start and was one-under through 5 holes against what he estimated was a 35 mph headwind.

Now you have to keep in mind that Par was a 12 handicapper most of his adult life and for a guy his age (all he will tell us on that subject is that JFK was president when he took up the game) and under these conditions he was playing out of his head. In all the years he had been playing golf, even in the most adverse weather, this was the best start to an 18-hole round he had ever had. He had a feeling that this day would be special but not even in his wildest dreams did he suspect just how this one round would affect his life forever.

Well, long story short, lightning flashes, thunder crashes and rain, huge drops of it, starts coming down, horizontally. The few brave souls that were on the course headed for the clubhouse, all but our crazy friend Par. He recounted later that he suddenly had this vision of the Bishop in the movie, Caddy Shack-- remember how he dragged Carl Spackler (Bill Murray's character) out on the course as his caddy during a particularly vicious storm and ended up having the round of his life? Similarly, Par wanted to play on regardless of the danger, he just couldn't find anyone as dumb as Spackler to accompany him. He just knew a career round was in the cards and these little storms blow over quickly, don't they? (I had to remind him that even the biggest morons know to get off the course when lightning is spotted.)

So Par ends up slugging through the wind and rain, alone, to the next tee and that was where his luck ran out. They found him slumped over the one-iron that he had chosen for his tee shot on the 6th hole, clothes still smoldering from the lightning bolt that got him. (He doesn't remember thinking this, but we all surmised that he was testing the theory that "even God can't hit a one-iron".)

Still breathing but in shock, he was taken to the local hospital where attendants after hearing what happened were amazed at how relatively unscathed he appeared to be. Upon regaining consciousness they explained to him that incredibly, a bolt of lightning had struck the top of his head (a direct hit from the heavens!) traveled along his arm and out through the shaft of the club. By all rights, he should be dead. Hospital staff were incredulous at his almost total lack of injuries other than a few minor burns on his hands caused by the melting of his grip and a small patch of hair burned off. It was decided that the one-iron had acted as a lightning rod and most of the energy was dissipated through the club. Resembling a melted candle it now resides in the clubhouse trophy case as a reminder to all of what can happen. After a night of observation and a few tests Par was released and went home to contemplate his good fortune.

After a few days of rest and some of his wife's cooking he felt almost back to normal with the exception of some tingling in his fingertips. Knowing that this was not a good sign for a golfer he decided to take a break from the game and in doing so made a decision that would affect his whole life.

He decided to go camping. It was late on the fourth night of his recuperation, sitting around a campfire that he felt a weird compulsion to get up and away from the light where he could get an unobstructed view of the stars. He was amazed when his attention was directed immediately to a cluster that formed the shape of a golfer in full swing. Not knowing much about the stars or the formation of constellations he decided to call this phenomenon Golfulus, the constellation that to this day, fuels his visions. It is a cluster that only he can see (I can't tell you how many nights he has dragged me off of a perfectly good couch to look at where he was pointing only to end up with a stiff neck and lack of sleep). He has come to view the stars that form the constellation pars, in honor of his discovery and a play on his nickname- hence the term Par-Gazer was born.