Caddy Pins Norman’s Final Round Meltdown on Wife Chris Evert
Chris Evert shows husband Greg Noman extreme Western grip, which she believes will allow him to hit with more topspin, adding 10-15 yards off the tee.
SOUTHPORT, England (Sportsman's Daily Wire Service) — For three days, Greg Norman turned back time and found himself atop the leader board with a two stroke lead heading into the final round. Each day he was dutifully followed by his wife of three weeks, Chris Evert, who tried keeping a low profile among the Shark’s large, roving gallery.
But on the final day, Evert, clad in a black leather coat and wearing the stoic game face familiar from her playing days, moved to the front of the gallery and, according to Norman’s caddy Linn Strickler, started taking a more active role in trying to steer the Shark to victory.
“For three rounds she stayed back and left the caddying to me,” said a still angry Strickler. “Then, on the final day, Greg steps up to the tee, is about ready to begin his takeaway when she manages to get his attention – apparently he needs to tuck his shirt in. So Greg steps back, attends to his shirt, looks over for approval, she gives him an icy nod and he proceeds to put the ball in the rough. And that’s just for starters.”
Norman proceeded to bogey the next three holes.
“I didn’t understand why Greg was continually overruling my suggestions on club selection. Until I looked over and realized they must have worked out some sort of system – a flare of the right nostril means a fairway metal, a grimace means an eight iron, and a tight smile means, well, apparently that’s Ms. Evert’s version of spontaneous laughter. I realized the first time I cracked a joke and she looked at me like I’d just clubbed a seagull to death that she’s not exactly the world’s warmest human being.”
But it wasn’t just her persistent micro-management that galled Strickler.
“I believe it was the third hole, Greg’s putt just lipped out. The gallery lets out a collective ‘ooooh,” and I see Greg trying to decipher the meaning in his wife’s conspicuously arched right eyebrow. He’s just standing there, like a deer caught in headlights…I ask him what’s up. Apparently Ms. Evert wants him to challenge. Challenge? This isn’t tennis for pete’s sake, which is exactly what I said. He goes, ‘I know, I know, but if I don’t challenge I’ll be spending the next week in the guest house.' Frankly I don't see the problem -- it's 4,000 square feet and a moat separates him from Chris in the main house.”
By the time he reached the 14th, Norman was visibly fading.
“Suddenly I look over and she’s holding up a banana. Greg nods and asks me to hand him a banana from his bag. I didn’t know where to look, as I’ve never been asked to pack a banana before. Mrs. Evert sees grass and she thinks it’s Wimbledon. If Greg had a normal golf spouse he would have had a shot. But he’s the one that’s got to live with her. I just can’t imagine what that’s like – since I’ve never had relations with someone you needed to defrost prior to foreplay.”
One man who’s had this experience is Evert’s ex-husband, former Olympic skier Andy Mill, who lost his wife to his good friend – Greg Norman.
“Chris can be cold and controlling, but in the 18 years we were married there were genuine moments of warmth. Like that time in the Keys when the hurricane left us without air conditioning for a week. It was murder.” Mills paused as if to consider better times. “I wish Chris and Greg much happiness. I hope they grow prematurely old together.”
The Authors of The Sportsman’s Daily