I am curious who the originator actually was of Homie.
This article appeared in the Fall 1993 issue (#27) of Disc Golf World News
(The real names of the people in this story have not been used to protect
the guilty.) This year I was invited to play with a group of Kansas City
golfers who meet each Sunday, weather or not, for a round of disc golf. The
game is skins, with a twist--the best round is worth the equivalent of five
skins. On most days, we play for $1 a hole with the best-round shooter
getting $5 per man. An ace, which is yet to happen, gets the lucky man $10
from each other person.
Oh, and then there's Homer. Just to make the game a little more
interesting, the person who shoots the worst score for the 18-hole round
must take home Homer. That is a Homer Simpson doll, which travels very
compactly in a coffin-like box. Not for a minute, not for a second, should
you believe that taking Homer home is any less humiliating than it sounds.
Another neat rule is that the only way to get rid of Homer is to play. If
you can't make it the next Sunday, Homer is yours until some other poor
duffer does worse than you. You can't just hand him back.
The game is played at Rosedale Park on the Kansas side of the metro area.
For those unfamiliar with Rosedale, it is a challenging course where
distance plays a key role, but distance without accuracy can be cruelly
punished. Set on a hill, it is layed out in a basic links type set-up,
running around the perimeter of the top of the park. Woods, some of them
quite thick and nasty, and/or deep, deep ravines can come into play on 17 of
the 18 holes. Shooting par here is a satisfying, and elusive score to all
but the best disc golfers around.
The Skinners, as we call ourselves, are seldom found on the leaderboards at
national and big regional events, but this competition is high-spirited, and
occasionally, quite intense. It's a group game with 6-10 players going at
it early on Sundays, letting faster players (everyone else on the course)
There are lots of arcane secrets that I, as a rookie, have yet to
understand. We all have names other than the ones we usually use. There's
Tut and Duck and Crow--they seemed to have started it a few years back as
quarter skins with coolers of beer. (As the stakes grew higher, the coolers
disappeared.) It then expanded to include Budda, Crow, Odd, Hack, Bear,
Wolf (formerly Dog), and this year's rookies, Wallaby and yours truly,
The game is very well structured. The first one to show up at the course on
Sunday goes last on the first hole and the last one there, throws first.
The money is collected before each hole and kept in a Crown Royal Bag.
Winning a skin results in immediate payment. This is not a credit game.
The money holding and scorekeeping tasks are shared by all the players.
The big event of the year, held in September, was the Second Annual Bing
Crosby Memorial Hawaiian Skins Invitational. For this stellar event, the
stakes were quintupled--yes $5 a hole and $25 for best round. (Please let
it be known, that for the most part, we are just a bunch of working class
guys. While I don't think anyone is taking food off their families' tables,
our regular skins represent a significant amount of risk and the Bing Crosby
skins was, well, five times greater.) Anyway, 10 players showed up,
including two old-timers who traveled 120 and 550 miles. Hack, Skinnering
for the first time this year, deuced the first hole for a skin. Wallaby
snatched the easy (even for us) third hole. Hack, who claimed (and we
believe him) that he had been playing almost no golf this year, nabbed three
more skins at #6 with a 60-footer. Crow made money for the day on #10 with
a par, when RamRock boned a 20-footer for a push. Tutter's day was made
when he was the only one to par the long #13. Then we played and played and
played. Our rules say that if there are still unsettled skins after 18
holes, we pay for two more holes of skins. After that, we push for the
money that's there. After 18 holes, Budda took the dough and the traveling
trophy, The Knife for the best score. But, nobody had won a skin since #13.
The wind had come in on #1 and nobody was very close. Same with #2. The
pool was now worth $350. Five of us had been shut out for the day, but
still had the chance to be the big winner. Hole #3 produced three deuces.
Wallaby had a chance from 35 feet on #4 and RamRock from 45 on #5, but no
dough. Wallaby again had the best looks on #6 and #7, but in vain. Odd and
Wallaby were within 30 feet on #8. Odd hit the number plate and Wallaby won
the cash. It was a long, long round, which took over six hours to complete.
Bear, Duck, Dog, Odd, and Ramrock were skinned.
One nice tradition of the skins is that if a guy wins over $50, he is
supposed to buy a round for the group at one of the two watering holes we
patronize. At this point, Crow owes us all about three rounds a piece.
I've been told that the Skinners play all year long. In fact, two weeks after the Bing, we met at 8:00 a.m. (some of the Skinners must watch the Kansas City Chiefs, so we start early sometimes) on the coldest morning of the fall. The temperature had dropped to 30° and there was the prettiest frost on the fairways. Fortunately, it was wind free.
I am happy to report that nobody has been completely shut out during this year. We have been thinking about keeping track of how each player fares, but probably won't do this. However, a couple of players (and I won't even mention them by their Skinner names), have gotten to know Homer much better than the rest of us. Some of us have never experienced that special kind of pain that Homer represents. DOOOE!
Lots of players in this town want a piece of this action, but most of them throw too far, or score too well consistently. We keep telling them to find their own group of equally-talented or semi-talented people. You might want to try it out there. It's been lots of fun and a really satisfying competitive format.DGWN
isfying competitive format.DGWN
I am happy to report that nobody has been completely shut out during this
year. We have been thinking about keeping track of how each player fares,
but probably won't do this. However, a couple of players (and I won't even
mention them by their Skinner names) have gotten to know Homer much better
than the rest of us. Some of us have never experienced that special kind of
pain that Homer represents. DOOOH!
Lots of players in this town want a piece of this action, but most of them
throw too far, or score too well consistently. We keep telling them to find
their own group of equally-talented or semi-talented people. You might want
to try it out there. It's been lots of fun and a really satisfying