By Jim Corbett
(Copyright 1996)

Once upon a time there lived an Emperor who was so immensely fond of golf that he spent all of his time and a great deal of his money on playing the game. He had little interest in the things that occupied other Emperors; things like affairs of state, or military issues. Even the day to day interests of running his empire were all distractions to him.

But, if he heard that you had developed a new wedge, or that you had a novel technique for extricating yourself from a sand bunker, well, you could expect a personal audience with the Emperor immediately. The Emperor surrounded himself with people who loved golf as much as he did. All of his key ministers and advisors, his court, his attendants, all of these were avid proponents of the game. In fact, it was very unlikely to have an appointment of any situation in the empire unless you professed a deep, personal commitment to the game of golf.

The Emperor had golf courses built around the empire so he could play whenever he visited the far reaches of his land. And the people loved the Emperor because he let them play on his courses when he was not in town -- however, the people did have to provide their own horses to pull the carts. And whenever the Emperor visited their little hamlets, the people flocked to the local course to watch him play. The people sometimes referred to themselves as the "Emperor's Army." They called themselves the "Emperor's Army" largely because when they were not watching the Emperor play golf, they actually were in his army.

As it turned out, despite the Emperor's deep love of the game of golf, he was not a particularly good golfer. He had a tendency, like many not-so-good golfers to slice the ball occasionally and to hook the ball from time to time and to top it and, well, to put it bluntly, the Emperor was a bit of a duffer.

But his proclivity towards duffing in no way diminished his love of the game nor his desire to improve. Quite the contrary, it only strengthened his resolve to find new ways to shave unnecessary strokes from his game. And in his quest to better his game, the Emperor developed a bit of a weakness for new equipment. He was very susceptible, in fact, to any claim of improved yardage or greater accuracy, regardless of how unsubstantiated, that happened to come down the Imperial Pike.

Well, every summer, as part of the annual celebration, the Emperor hosted a magnificent golf tournament on his home course. The festivities surrounding the tournament went on for several days and many strangers arrived every day to take part, and to observe the events. One such a day there came to town, two swindlers; they claimed they were golf equipment designers and manufacturers and they knew how to make the most magnificent golf equipment imaginable.

Not only could their clubs and balls be hit straighter and longer than any other, but the equipment they manufactured had the extraordinary quality of being invisible to anyone not completely enamored with golf or to anyone who was unforgivably stupid -- which in this particular empire was considered, more or less, the same thing.

When the Emperor heard of these new golf clubs and balls he knew that he must be the first to try them out. The thought of hitting the ball straighter and farther was always appealing, but the added advantage of knowing who did not love golf and who was stupid proved to be too juicy to pass up.

Great interest was aroused throughout the land when the Emperor commissioned the first set of clubs to be made. Everyone anxiously awaited the annual golf tournament when the new equipment would first be displayed.

The Emperor paid a great sum of money to the strangers and they set about the task of manufacturing the special items. Of course, there were no new clubs being made at all. So the swindlers created an elaborate ruse to make it appear as though they were busily working to create the Emperor's new clubs.

Now, after a while the Emperor became very curious as to how the two strangers were proceeding, so he sent his first minister to observe their progress and report back immediately. The Emperor felt it would be unseemly for someone of his station to appear too anxious about the new golf clubs. And since he believed that the intelligence and devotion to the game of golf exhibited by his minister were beyond question, he deemed it a good plan.

When the minister was escorted to the workshop where the clubs were being assembled, he was quite confused. He muttered and stammered and struggled to compose himself. Never before had he reason to doubt his own intelligence; neither did he question his love of golf. But when the clubs and balls were displayed before him, the minister saw nothing.

The craftsmen waited a few moments in expectant silence as the minister collected his thoughts. "Don't you have any comments?" asked one. "Uh...remarkable." fumbled the minister. The swindlers nodded in appreciation. "The true beauty of these clubs cannot be appreciated by simply viewing them; you must swing them to understand what we have achieved. Why don't you hit a few with this 5 iron," said one.

As the craftsman spoke he reached out and appeared to be handing the minister a golf club and a ball. The minister gingerly accepted them and was led to a practice cage by one of the craftsmen. (The other excused himself, claiming he had much work to do to get ready for the big tournament.) With encouragement from the attendant craftsman, the minister took a few practice swings and then stepped up to hit the ball.

He took a slow, deliberate backswing, then struck at the invisible ball. As he followed through he saw the netting at the back of the practice cage give way as though a ball had flown into it with great force. He was astounded. "Great shot!" exclaimed the craftsman. "How did it feel?"

"It was as though I had no club at all." said the minister. "I never felt a thing." "Ah," replied the craftsman, "therein lies the beauty of these clubs." The minister took a few more mighty whacks and each time the netting yielded to the force of the impact. And each time the craftsman remarked on the minister's fine form or his great power.

Whereas at the beginning, the minister had been quite doubtful about the project, he was now becoming somewhat comfortable with the clubs and even thought to himself, "Hmmm, after the grand tournament is over, I may have to pick up a set of these babies!" And he reported back to the Emperor with great enthusiasm about his findings.

"Marvelous" thought the Emperor. He was most excited to hear the news and he looked forward to seeing these fine clubs himself. He decided, however, to send one more of his officials to view the work of the craftsmen before he, himself, would visit. He chose to send the Imperial Teaching Pro. Who better to determine the quality of this particular work than one as experienced and knowledgeable as the Emperor's personal golf instructor?

Unfortunately, the Imperial Teaching Pro fared no better than the minister had. He looked and looked, but could see no clubs and no ball. However, when he hit into the practice cage, the netting flared as though the impact was great, indeed.

"It is no wonder the Emperor chooses to seek your council on the subject that matters most to him" flattered the craftsman. "You are truly the finest golfer I have ever seen. With these clubs you will achieve unprecedented success."

"Yes, yes. Of course." replied the bewildered instructor. He felt he had no choice but to report back to the Emperor in the most glowing terms. He certainly could not allow himself to appear stupid. And what would become of him if it were believed that he, above all people, did not love golf?

He, likewise, reported to the Emperor with great excitement regarding the qualities of the new equipment. The instructor's report served to fuel the Emperor's growing passion to test the clubs himself and arrangements were soon made for such a visit.

Meanwhile, word of the miraculous clubs and balls was spreading throughout the court, indeed, throughout the land. The countryside was a-buzz with talk of how well the Emperor would fare during the upcoming tournament. With great pride and loyalty the people boasted of having the only "scratch Emperor" in the known world. Of course, people, being people, also spent a considerable amount of time talking about who among their neighbors would and would not be able to see the clubs.

When the Emperor arrived at the workshop of the swindlers, he was attended by an entourage of his closest advisors; among these were the minister and instructor who had visited the site earlier. "Are they not magnificent?" asked the minister when the non-existent clubs were displayed before the Emperor. "I believe they will knock several strokes off your majesty's game," encouraged the instructor.

"How can this be?" thought the Emperor. "Am I incredibly stupid? Do I not love the game of golf?" The Emperor was worried because the others around him obviously could see the equipment just fine. It was only he, to whom they were invisible. To save face, he not only raved about the quality of the equipment, but he decorated the swindlers with the title of Imperial Golf Equipment Designers and Manufacturers and bestowed upon them a handsome bonus. They were humbled and honored.

The person in the entourage who was experiencing the greatest anxiety was not the Emperor at all, but the Imperial Caddie. How was he supposed to hand the Emperor the correct club or tee up the ball if he could not see it? On the up-side though, it did appear that these new clubs would be pretty light to carry. He wondered if these craftsmen made golf bags, as well.

Soon, the day of the great tournament came and the fairways were lined with throngs of well-wishers and curiosity seekers. They were mainly there to see the Emperor and his new golf clubs and when the Emperor approached the first tee at around noon, the crowd was at fever pitch. In fact, it seemed that the only ones not present that day were the craftsmen who had made the Emperor's new equipment. They had left town early in the morning with their bags filled with their new-found wealth.

The first three members of the Emperor's foursome got up to take their turns and all three hit fine shots right down the middle, and a fair distance as well. Then the Emperor's caddie fumbled through the bag and grabbed what he hoped would be a golf ball and perched it up on the tee for the Emperor's shot.

The Emperor never seemed to question whether a ball was on the tee, so the caddie assumed he had gotten it right. He leaned the bag toward the Emperor to allow the Emperor to select his own club and the Emperor grabbed a club from where he expected the driver to be. The caddie never questioned the Emperor's choice of clubs, so the Emperor assumed he had gotten it right.

The crowd was hushed throughout the process, trying to get a better look at the clubs and to see the ball upon the tee. Finally someone in the gallery said, "What a fine looking set of clubs." And then they all chimed in with comments and best wishes for the Emperor.

The Emperor took a great swing at the ball and every head in the crowd followed the would-be trajectory of the ball down the fairway. When the Emperor saw the direction they were facing, he figured he had hit a great shot and he was very satisfied. And that is the way the round proceeded, with everyone offering the greatest encouragement and the grandest compliments to the Emperor on his fine new equipment and his wonderful skills.

So it went, that is, until somewhere along the fairway of the 10th hole when a little child, no more than five years old, blurted out, "But the Emperor has no clubs at all." There were a few uncomfortable snickers as the father of the child tried to apologize for the remark. But soon the comment spread throughout the gallery and it could be heard plainly by all.

The Emperor was doing his best to ignore the remarks which he was beginning to believe were true, when he heard another, more devastating comment. "And besides," that same pesky child announced, "invisible clubs don't conform to USGA standards."

At that point the Emperor knew he was doomed, for as he well knew, Rule 4-1 (a) of the USGA rules of golf states: the club shall be composed of a shaft and a head. And since, upon close inspection, his clubs actually had neither a shaft nor a head, he knew that he would have to be disqualified. "Wouldn't you know it," sighed the Emperor, "Just when I was playing my best game."

Well, to the Emperor's credit, he carried himself with dignity throughout the rest of the day, even though he hated to get burned on a technicality. But he resolved to be satisfied with his old clubs and to no longer be concerned with getting a little extra distance from gimmicks. "Maybe I'll work on my swing instead," he decided.