Do you believe in magic?
Be honest, you know you want to. And that’s exactly what makes “All Carry” so much fun. It’s a golf novel written by Gene Wojciechowski, a superb storyteller for ESPN after his first career as an excellent sportswriter for the Los Angeles Times, Chicago Tribune and ESPN the Magazine.
Here’s “All Carry” in one sentence (if that’s even possible): A set of old irons and persimmon woods that once allegedly belonged to Jack Nicklaus, including his famed White Fang putter, possess magical properties that turn a middle-aged golf broadcaster (and previously a golf hacker) into the second coming of Tiger Woods and leads him to an epic showing at the Masters.
A little magic has been behind some of our favorite sports movies. There’s Wonder Boy, the bat that made “The Natural” able to hit towering home runs that turned old-time stadium lights into fireworks displays. There’s “Field of Dreams,” which has ghosts playing baseball in an Iowa cornfield.
If we can believe in Rocky Balboa, the Mighty Ducks and Matt Damon’s pathetic “authentic swing” in “The Legend of Bagger Vance,” we can enjoy the premise of “All Carry.” It’s funny and clever and has amusing dialogue and plot twists. Plus, the magic golf clubs are simply a platform for the story about a father (Joe Riley) and son (Buddy) who have grown apart. It’s a story of redemption about a pro caddie (Hard Way Mitchell) who gets unfairly scapegoated by his selfish-arrogant-jerkface tour player (think Shooter McGavin of “Happy Gilmore” or Don Johnson’s David Simms in “Tin Cup”).
Let’s address the fantasy involved here. Which golfers among us haven’t dreamed of hitting 400-yard bombs like Happy Gilmore? We want this fantasy. We need this fantasy.
These offbeat characters and others come together in a most believable way. Buddy resents that his father didn’t spend enough time with him. That was due to Joe Riley’s job as a television broadcaster for a network that might as well be called Golf Channel. Every Father’s Day, Joe was at the U.S. Open instead of with Buddy and the rest of the family.
While in search of the perfect gift for his dad, Buddy comes across a set of old irons with leather-wrapped grips, finely crafted persimmon woods and a putter that a curious older gentlemen has on display at a garbage sale. The clubs were made by Jack Wullkotte, an actual legend who was to clubmaking back in the old days what Antonio Stradaveri was to violin-making centuries ago. The clubs aren’t for sale but after a heart-to-heart conversation, the old man sees Buddy and his father in need of these special instruments. Plus, it turns out the old man was ill and knew he was chipping to the final green, if you get the drift.
The clubs are special and defy explanation. It takes some time but the Rileys discover that Dad, and only Dad, can launch 400-yard-plus drives with the antique driver and 190-yard pitching-wedge shots despite his crappy hacker swing. The clubs are merely ordinary in the hands of all others.
Dad’s new-found power is discovered by Hard Way Mitchell, who runs a worn-down, but aspiring, driving range called To The Linksland. This is one of many golf-insider nuggets to be found, as that is the title of a book by golf writer Michael Bamberger. You can look for other Easter eggs such as cameos by esteemed talent such as ESPN’s Tom Rinaldi, golf coach Butch Harmon and others.
Mitchell finds golf balls hit in a tight pattern on his range near the 400-mark. All right, I’ve never actually seen a 400-yard range in my life except in “Happy Gilmore” but I’m open to it. He soon discovers that Joe Riley is the culprit, which he can’t believe because Riley doesn’t have a decent swing. But Hard Way soon becomes a believer and after Riley messes up on TV and gets released, the caddie starts grooming Riley to take on the tour as a way to vindicate himself.
Nobody really believes Riley can deliver and his old tour friends don’t want Hard Way to succeed. To say more would be to give away too much of this charming, feel-good tale that is emotionally believable despite being physically unbelievable. A side story, no less important, is the love story between Hard Way and the hot wife of the arrogant tour player who fired Hard Way and got him blackballed from working the tour.
You might think you know where this tale is going. You may have already guessed that from the book’s cover, which is done in bright daffodil yellow with a shade of green that sure would look good on a major champion’s jacket. Wojciechowski told “The Golf Show 2.0” podcast that the cover colors are definitely meant as an hint toward a certain tournament in April.
Still, you don’t know what’s going to happen. Did Tin Cup win the U.S. Open? He did not. Did Rannulph Junnah of “Bagger Vance” win the big match? He did. Will Joe Riley really land the big one after he becomes an overnight golf phenomenon much like ninth-alternate John Daly in the 1991 PGA Championship at Crooked Stick? Read it and find out.
“All Carry” is in the tradition of the great Dan Jenkins novels such as “Semi-Tough,” “Dead-Sold Perfect,” and “You’ve Gotta Play Hurt” and it starts with an opening line unlike any other:
“It was a dump.”
That is an attention-getting opening line to a book. For context, you need the second paragraph:
“The best thing you could say about the driving range was that it had a nice view of the commuter trains as they caromed back and forth from Chicago on the Union Pacific West Line. And that only three of the fifteen ancient and threadbare artificial grass mats had been stolen in the past month. But it was Max (Hard Way) Mitchell’s dump — or it would be in 109 more monthly payments.”
The amusing descriptions sets the stage for a Shakespearian-like saga. The ending is smart and worth the journey to get there.
If Stradaveri himself was given a copy of “All Carry,” I know what he’d say — “Non leggo l’inglese.” (“I don’t read English.”) Well, that’s his loss. (Cue sad violin music.)
“All Carry” has 415 pages, about one page for each yard of Joe Riley’s longest drives. It’s a magical tale. All you have to do is believe.
