Life, 1927-01-20 · page 11 of 34
Life — January 20, 1927 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes professional golf culture through a conversational article about touring pro golfers. The main cartoon shows a man and woman on a couch, with the man's feet up dramatically—captioned "DON'T NEG ME SO HARD, JACK! YOU'LL MASH THE CIGARETTES IN MY VEST." The article discusses how professional golfers divide their time between Florida and California, receive weekly pay checks, and maintain contact with home clubs via bulletin boards. The author argues that golf pros should offer correspondence courses to amateur golfers to improve American golf overall. The supporting cartoons show working-class figures (a glass blower, tradesmen), contrasting with elite golf culture. The satire mocks both golfers' lifestyles and the domestic tensions their frequent travel creates—a common theme in 1920s-era Life magazine humor.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
As One Fan to Another ELL, old timer, if you ever get any farther into your daily pa- per than the diagrams of the love nests, you've noticed that half the golf professionals are wintering in Florida and the other fifty per cent. in California, depending on whether they prefer hurricanes or earth- quakes with their bungalows. That, as your Congressman would say, reminds me of a story. ‘Daring a pro tournament at the Slippery Elm Country Club one of the contestants stood around the caddy house, obviously — puzzled. ally, he said to the caddy master, Say, whe: the first tee here?” Directions given, he strode off. The caddy master inquired from the Chairman of the Greens Com- mittee the identity of the player who didn't know his way around the course. “I believe,” answered the Chair- man, who had a good memory, “I believe that’s our home pro, but he hasn't been home in five years.” Old timer, that’s the way it goes It used to be that a golf pro- fessional was employed to — stick around and give lessons, when he wasn't busy repairing clubs, or see- ing that the greens gangs were working on the course, or investigat- ing why old Jones's quarts alw dwindled to half-pints during his absences from the locker room. But, nowadays, the only way a club can keep up with its profes- sional is to go on tour with him. A golf pro isn’t a teacher any more; he’s a trouper. He has substituted the one-night stand for the all-day stance. 1 must admit some of the boys are right loyal to their home clubs, now “DON’T ItUG ME SO HARD, JACK! despite their prolonged travels. I know our pro wires our president once a week and writes him a two- page letter monthly. Sometimes, if there has been a mix-up in the for- warding of his pay check, he wires twice a week. We always post his communications on the — bulletin board, which gives us a fecling of direct contact with him, even though it doesn’t help much in getting rid of a slice. That's a point I’ve been wanting to discuss with you, old timer. I mean about correcting slices, and “LISTEN TO THAT MAN SING- ING WHILE HE woRKs. I WISH 1 COULD DO THAT. “wy pon’? you? “1’M A GLASS BLOWER.” YOU'LL MASH THE CIGARETTES IN MY VEST.” hooks, and other disturbances which, every so often, crop out in the games of even the worst players. I had a slice all last season, and the only way I ever got rid of it was by topping my tee shots, which isn’t much of an improvement. My caddy offered to give me lessons, but my pride wouldn't let me take them from him. If Cm going to be taught, it’s got to be by somebody less adept with links language than I am. Still, I couldn't get in touch with our pro, because he was spending the sum- mer competing in Europe and cable tolls are pretty high. So there I was; and here, there and everywhere was iy slice. We've fixed that up at the club, though. Our pro is really a loyal fellow, as I told you, and he’s agreed to get up a correspondence course. So, next season, even though he will be away as usual, we'll get weekly ons by mail. a great idea, when you stop yze it, old timer. At one gesture we've assured the revival of the ancient art of correspondence and made secure the future of American golf. James Kevin McGuinness. He Had One ILLIS: Have you a kitchen binet ? Gitus: Yes, Wittts: What kind? Giuuis: It consists of the ice-man, the policeman and the delivery-boy, with the cook as Chairman, comicbooks.com