THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, June 17, 1994 TAG: 9406160154
SECTION: PORTSMOUTH CURRENTS PAGE: 23 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Bill Leffler
DATELINE: 940617 LENGTH: Medium
Over the hill, the saying goes.
{REST} That's why it was such a joy to watch Clyde Smith when he played golf or bowled.
Just like good wine, Clyde got better as he aged.
A mishap at his home ended the life of the 72-year-old Smith on June 8. And his many friends filled the pews at Monumental United Methodist Church three days later to say their farewells.
Softball buddies were there - from the days when Clyde played and managed at Wythe Street field. Fast-pitch softball drew hundreds to the old field that made way for the downtown tunnel.
Smith was on some of the very best teams and on some of the very worst. And everybody who watched him play will tell you Clyde was better when he finished than when he started.
His pals on the bowling lanes said the same thing. At 40, Clyde was just another bowler. At 50 he was among the best in the city. And when he stopped bowling he had the highest average he ever carried.
Of late, Clyde was complaining that his golf game wasn't what it used to be. But it was. It was exactly what it used to be.
It just so happened that Smith had improved his game so much when he grew older he had forgotten how he played in earlier years.
Clyde Smith was one of those rare golfers who could shoot his age. Maybe he couldn't play with the Chandler Harpers or the Ace Parkers. But it's only those kind of players who can lay claim to posting scores under their number of years on this earth.
Smith regularly shot in the 70s, usually in the 80s.
His son Waverly, Butch to old friends, developed the same love for golf. And nobody was prouder than Clyde when Butch became a regular on the Churchland High School golf team that went on to win state championships in 1963 and 1964.
Not many people have played more rounds of golf at Elizabeth Manor than Clyde played. He had become a fixture in the First Flight Tournament that precedes the Eastern Amateur.
Through all the years of the First Flight, the lowest round ever posted went under Smith's name on the scoreboard - a sparkling 64.
He notched that record in 1971 and none of the hundreds who played before or since have matched it. It was Clyde's best round ever, too.
Our last conversation came recently via telephone. He called to chat about golf and kick around a new idea he had.
He wanted to get a group together to operate their own golf course.
``You would pay one fee, somewhere from $6,000 to $10,000, depending upon the number of people we could interest,'' he said. ``Then you could play golf for the rest of your life without paying another cent.''
New money would come from new people becoming a part of the ownership.
Clyde discussed this with several friends. But it was a dream he will not be able to pursue. by CNB