The Money-Whipped Steer-Job Three-Jack Give-Up Artist

The Money-Whipped Steer-Job Three-Jack Give-Up Artist

Dan Jenkins

Sports / Fiction

From Publishers WeeklyUnforgettable for his howlingly funny sendup of pro football in Semi-Tough and his equally droll spoof of the PGA Tour Dead Solid Perfect, columnist Jenkins (Golf Digest) is as irreverent and hip a sports satirist as ever tarred and feathered a poor unwary and overpaid former Muni-caddy from Fort Worth, Tex., without benefit of anesthetic. In this latest blasphemous roasting of the PGA, Jenkins's first novel in 25 years, he offers up nonhero Bobby Joe Grooves, aka "Spin" to his friends, a latter-day self-styled golf historian who resigned to his role as a "light-running money-whipped, steer-job, three-jack, give-up artist" (read: journeyman touring pro) has made a "separate peace." Bobby Joe has become disenchanted with the cheating ways (on and off the course) of the European darling superstar, Knut Thorssun, aka Knut the Nuke, who, largely thanks to his cavalier disregard for rules, has two majors to his credit. Twice-divorced, Bobby Joe is keeping his libido in bounds with Cheryl Haney, a Hooters-class Fort Worth real estate agent. Struggling to make the Ryder Cup team for the first time in his 16-year career, Bobby Joe is having a hard time pacifying his main squeeze and exes, and fighting off a self-styled wannabe golf hack who insists on calling him "Spin" and wants to pen his memoir. To make matters worse, when Cheryl learns he strayed with his amateur partner's horny wife at Pebble Beach, she goes into knee-lock. Hawaiian Open to Ryder Cup, the tour (and thereby the tale) comes down to crossed-putters mano a mano with Knut. A sort of "Saturday Night Live does Harvey Penick's Little Red Book," this goofy encyclopedia of golf shines with rays of simple truth. (Aug.)Forecast: This book will be catnip for golf lovers, and the upcoming Ryder Cup matches should feed into the pre-pub hype. Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.FromIf most golf novels sound like either Saturday Night Live sketches or Sunday-morning sermons, Jenkins definitely belongs in the late-night category. His Dead Solid Perfect (1974) virtually invented the comic golf novel. Now he returns to the PGA Tour for another attempt to disprove the notion that professional golfers (other than Tiger) are bland, charisma-deprived ciphers. His hero is a good ol' Fort Worth boy called Bobby Joe Grooves. Bobby may not be the best golfer on the tour (he's never won a major tournament), but he is definitely no cipher. We pick up Bobby Joe's story in Hawaii, where he has just "three-jacked" (three-putted) his way to a disappointing nineteenth-place finish in the Hawaiian Open, which is why he's sitting in a bar downing what he calls "Juniors" (J & B scotch). As Bobby Joe grinds his way through a year on the tour, trying to qualify for the Ryder Cup while dealing with two needy ex-wives and a jealous girlfriend off the course, Jenkins keeps the jokes coming, managing to offend just about everyone with any political ax to grind. Those who enjoy seeing feathers ruffled will enjoy the PC-bashing, but the jokes themselves tend to be a bit of a hit-and-miss affair. Better is the fascinating golf history, especially regarding course design, that Jenkins filters into the story, along with his uncanny ability to expose the pretensions of both golfers and their fans. Not the landmark its predecessor was, but still dead-solid entertainment for anyone who cares about professional golf. Bill OttCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
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