. The Lone Ranger By Tom Olkowski, Ph.D. MTT Contributing Writer On some course they're called "rangers." At others they are "marshals," "monitors," "golf hosts" or "players' assistants." At our club we're referred to as "ambassadors." But regardless of their titles, the men and women who patrol the fairways in those carts with the red flags are often perceived as the Rodney Dangerfield's of golf whose only goal in life is to harass you for playing too slowly. And naturally, when they do, the standard excuse even when your foursome has two open holes in front of you is, "Its not our fault, it's that group up ahead." In reality, keeping up the pace of play, clearing the course during storms and rescuing the occasional broken-down cart are all part of the job. But, at our course nestled in the foothills just southwest of Denver, one of our major responsibilities, besides taking photographs of out-of-state golfers mesmerized by the Colorado scenery, is to remind players that the signs warning of rattlesnakes in the scrub oak really mean what they say and aren't just put there so we can retrieve errant golf balls at the end of the day (which by the way, we have trained deer do for us). Another aspect of the job is to listen patiently to any and all complaints our guests might offer" "The foursome in front of us is too slow." "The greens are too fast." and most frequently, "the beverage cart doesn't come around often enough." Last Father's Day, when the course was packed with father-son, once-a-year golf parings, I was verbally berated by a 15-year-old for allegedly sending foursomes off to closely together, thus causing him to have to wait on each shot. His father then proceeded to put a drive into the tall grass no more than fifty yards from the tee, while his complaining adolescent offspring popped a tee shot off the roof of their cart parked about thirty feet to the right of the tee box. I'm sure they both would have blamed me for those shots if they thought they could get away with it. And then we have to deal with the inevitable "losers". During one tournament notorious for its high percentage of 1st time players, I found five rental clubs strewn down the middle of the cart path at fifty-yard intervals and later discovered a bewildered duffer staring into his bag wondering where his clubs had disappeared. On another occasion I had to backtrack to find the same sand wedge lost by the same golfer three times in nine holes &endash; a mark possibly worth mention in The Guinness Book of World Records. But since records are meant to be broken, two tourist once lost the keys to a rental car during a round just prior to their return flight to Germany. While the entire staff searched the course, the two intrepid golfers finished their match and grabbed a cab to the airport. I never learned whether they made their flight on time, but I'm willing to bet it was one of the most expensive rounds of golf either one of them had ever played. Dealing with non-golfing "intruders" on the course presents another set of challenges. Kids sneaking onto the course to hunt for balls and sightseers strolling the cart paths are easy to handle. But last season Tony, one of my comrades, had to capture a Labrador Retriever who had playfully harassed a foursome by, you guessed it, retrieving every ball they hit for three consecutive holes. On another busy afternoon a parade of birthday celebrating 8-year-olds led by an adult in a rabbit costume had to be herded off the 16th fairway while golfers waited to tee off. Finally, on a recent Sunday morning, our esteemed leader Ron, whose dislike of snakes ranks second only to Indiana Jones', was called upon to remove what was thought to be a rattlesnake from the 10th tee. Fortunately for both the ambassador and the reptile, it turned out to be a harmless bull snake snoozing in the sun. The snake was allowed to play through and Ron was allowed to proceed on his rounds without further anxiety. As you can see, an ambassador's job isn't as easy as it looks. So the next time you enjoy a round of golf, why not offer a word of thanks to that golf course wanderer in the cart with the red flag who helped make it possible? Because, as you might have already guessed, he's none other than The Lone Ranger. Tom Olkowski is a clinical psychologist in private practice in Denver. The only call he's willing to take on the course is an invitation from Jamie Lee Curtis to join her for a golf weekend in Hawaii.MTT Contributing Writer