CSGA Scholarship Fund
The Marty Marathon ~ July 18, 2016
like that AJ had his charges assembled and
they chirped out a chorus of Happy Birthday
to 21-year-old Jason Hogan. Very cool.
Tom Gleeton and then Mark
Bialobrzeski followed Jason. 63 holes were
in the books. Next up was Billy Cremins,
known to many people as Judge Cremins
because he is in fact a judge. I sometimes
wonder if I'm paying him enough respect
when I call him "Billy" which is how I was
first introduced to him back in the 1970s. I
just knew him then as a guy who was a really
good player who seemed to hit the ball dead
straight every time. My Dad always spoke
highly of him and everyone respected his
game and his attitude.
As Mark Bialobrzeski and I were
nearing the end of our 9 holes together
the sky had begun to darken and the wind
was picking up. We were talking about how
many holes still needed to be played to get to
100 and Mark asked, "Who's up next after
me?" When I told him "Bill Cremins" Mark
immediately said, "Well you'll save time
with him. He never leaves the center of the
fairway!"
Billy and I were on Litchfield's
second green when a lightening bolt and a
thunderclap exploded simultaneously just a
little to our south. We both had four footers
and quickly agreed "lets knock these in and
get the hell out of here." As we were replacing
the flagstick the horn sounded suspending
play.
We made it into AJ's pro shop just
before the deluge. It was raining so hard
and blowing so wildly you couldn't see 50
yards down the first fairway. For a moment
I was concerned this might ruin the plan.
I'd played 65 holes and was determined to
make it to 100, but as we looked out at the
swirling gray mass of rain and wind I began
to wonder if it was possible.
Fortunately the storm fled as
quickly as it arrived, and after waiting for
maybe 30-45 minutes, Judge Cremins and
I returned to the golf course. Happy to be
playing again, but amazed at how much leafy
debris now covered much of the course, we
spent several minutes clearing paths through
small twigs and sticks that littered the third
green.
It wasn't long before Litchfield's
superintendent, Duncan McGowen was
out with a blower clearing all the putting
surfaces. There was no one on the course now
except for Billy and me and yet Duncan was
out there clearing the greens ahead of us.
It was incredible to me the way
people had embraced the idea of the
Marty Marathon. AJ and Gib at 5:30 in
the morning and throughout the day, Tony
FitzGerald who after playing the first 9
holes, coming back to the course hours
later bringing watermelon slices and a letter
from his mother Jeanne encouraging me to
keep going. Bob Ferrarotti, my high school
golf coach and owner of Fairview Farm and
Stonybrook, tending the flag and fixing ball
marks while I played with Dick Weigold. Jon
Torrant and Vic Hladik, guys a few years
ol der than me who were in school with my
sisters, showing up to say hello and watch a
couple of holes. Drew Harlow, a longtime
family friend stopping by to wish me luck
and hand me a bag of homemade cookies.
Bret Lawrence, one of Connecticut’s top
mid-am players, driving up from his home
in Morris offering his ever-present grin
and congratulations on the effort. Mark
Murphy, the local pharmacist, and retired
schoolteacher, Bobby Metro, who I'd worked
with in Eddie Ever’s pro shop 40 years ago.
Alexis DeRubertis, who with my wife Nadine
followed for many holes taking pictures.
And Don Goss, the elder statesman
of Litchfield Country Club, who had been
a great friend of my father's, following
for several holes with AJ's band of juniors,
2016 ANNUAL / CONNECTICUT STATE GOLF ASSOCIATION / 77