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As confident of his own ability as Willie and with a comparable gift of rugged phrase was Mickey Mantle. Of the $65,000 offer from the Yankees that would put him in third place on the totem pole, Mickey said simply: "They cut me more than they shoulda."
Nightclub Golf Pro
The little club is a cheerful night spot in Manhattan's supper-club belt. Very chic, very little. It is also the first nightclub in the world to hire its own golf professional. He is Joe Campbell, 24, pro golf's rookie of the year in 1959.
"My friends and the people who come here were shocked and amazed," said the club's owner, Billy Reed, the other evening as he sipped a Pernod mist. "They all thought I was crazy. 'Waddaya mean you got a playing pro?' they asked me. 'What's a place like this going to do with a golf pro?' "
Well, it started a couple of years ago. Reed, who has been playing golf for five years, had read with interest about some of the young pros and how they go out on the tour with financial assistance from friends or from golf clubs. So he asked himself, look, if a golf club can have a playing pro why can't The Little Club have one too? Right?
Reed started negotiations, Joe dropped in at the club last October, and they signed a contract. Out on the tour Campbell registers his affiliation as The Little Club, New York. Each month Reed clucks happily and shoots out a check for $250, talks to Campbell on the phone in between checks.
"Nobody thinks I know what I'm doing except my wife, but it may start a trend," Reed says. "It's given me a tremendous—no—fantastic kick to go into this. It's like buying a race horse." As in racing, Campbell is swathed in his owner's colors. On tour, he is supplied with a choice of red or white golf hat and red or white sports jacket, each with Little Club insignia (a peppe mint-striped canopy) prominently displayed. He wears the same insignia on his golf shirt, and his golf bag has red and white stripes.
As Reed says, maybe this will start a trend. The day may not be so far off when Joe Campbell of The Little Club, New York (garbed in an outfit of peppermint striping) wins the U.S. Open as Cary Middlecoff, the Stork Club, New York (his golfing sweater a pattern of storks rampant), folds in the stretch, and bearded Tommy Bolt, from the Co-existence Bagel Shop, San Francisco, blows a three-foot putt on the final green, and flings his golf bag (blue demitasse cups and an exploding espresso machine) at the nearest caddie.
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