shoplift a golf club that would be added to the old set they shared when trespassing on Balboa Country Club’s 5th, 6th and 7th holes. Just before sunset they’d approach the course from a wooded area next to the fifth fairway. At twilight, there were seldom any players on those beginning holes to question their trespass. Scott and Matt called playing those three holes their Balboa Loop , and they continued to sneak on the course even after being caught, reported to the police and reprimanded.
The golf was fun, but the thrill of their law-scoffing transcended the playing of it. The cop that’d reprimanded them told the head-pro at Balboa that their trespassing was likely an outlet for the defiant anger over not having their fathers around to golf with. After knowing they’d both lost their fathers in Iraq, the head-pro at Balboa ignored their harmless twilight intrusions.
Now they were planning a more serious crime to join that same rebellious hostility.
"Are you sure we can pull it off this time?" Matt was slouched against the wall at a building across from an All in Sports store. "We blew it last time and got caught."
"That club was a driver, Matt. This one is going to be a wedge… much smaller to hide."
"It’s still going to set off the metal detector at the front door."
"Yeah, but this time we don’t stop…we run like hell, Matt."
They slowly approached the golf equipment section of the store, feigning a look at other merchandise along the way. When they reached the golf club display both picked up a club and wiggled it back and forth pretending to see how it felt. The club in Scott’s hands was a 60-degree lob wedge. It was a club made popular by Phil Mickelson and Tiger Woods for hitting high shots to the green from close range. The price tag hanging on the wedge was $125.00.
Bill Tivey was sitting in the small security office with his feet propped on a table below three television monitors. Bill was in the Navy, stationed at Coronado, and he augmented his Navy pay by working security on weekends for All in Sports. Cameras scanning several areas in the store fed the TV monitors above him. It was a boring job, but he had the surveillance method down pat, switching his eyes from one monitor to another while reading a magazine and not missing any area scanned by the cameras. Very seldom did he have to pick up his radio from the table and alert the front door security guy that someone was trying to vamoose with shop-lifted goods.
Tivey’s eyes went to the middle monitor. It was displaying the view from a camera in golf goods, and it caught a kid stuffing a golf club down the pant leg of his baggy shorts. He watched the kid cover the top of the club with his loose fitting sweatshirt. The monitor showed another kid dressed in the same over sized clothes standing close by, acting as a lookout.
He grabbed his radio from the table to alert the security guy posted at the exit. "Bingo, in sporting goods," said Tivey. "A kid in shorts and sweatshirt just lifted a golf club. There’s another kid with him."
He was quickly out of his office and on the run. Tivey, with the front door guard, caught up to the boys and grabbed them as they were making a dash to escape through the main exit. They held the boys firmly by the arms and escorted them to the security office.
"That’s a stupid thing you did," said Tivey. "We have it all on videotape."
Scott pulled the lob wedge from his shorts and sweatshirt placing it on the table. "We didn’t know you had TV. Last time it was just a metal detector."
"Yeah, you were caught on Candid Camera." Then Tivey said, "okay, I have to make a phone call to the San Diego police dispatcher." He took a deep breath and paused before asking the question that always saddened him. Bill Tivey didn’t like this part of his job, but the answer he got from Scott made it worse than ever. "Do you want to call your fathers so they’ll be here when the police
The golf was fun, but the thrill of their law-scoffing transcended the playing of it. The cop that’d reprimanded them told the head-pro at Balboa that their trespassing was likely an outlet for the defiant anger over not having their fathers around to golf with. After knowing they’d both lost their fathers in Iraq, the head-pro at Balboa ignored their harmless twilight intrusions.
Now they were planning a more serious crime to join that same rebellious hostility.
"Are you sure we can pull it off this time?" Matt was slouched against the wall at a building across from an All in Sports store. "We blew it last time and got caught."
"That club was a driver, Matt. This one is going to be a wedge… much smaller to hide."
"It’s still going to set off the metal detector at the front door."
"Yeah, but this time we don’t stop…we run like hell, Matt."
They slowly approached the golf equipment section of the store, feigning a look at other merchandise along the way. When they reached the golf club display both picked up a club and wiggled it back and forth pretending to see how it felt. The club in Scott’s hands was a 60-degree lob wedge. It was a club made popular by Phil Mickelson and Tiger Woods for hitting high shots to the green from close range. The price tag hanging on the wedge was $125.00.
Bill Tivey was sitting in the small security office with his feet propped on a table below three television monitors. Bill was in the Navy, stationed at Coronado, and he augmented his Navy pay by working security on weekends for All in Sports. Cameras scanning several areas in the store fed the TV monitors above him. It was a boring job, but he had the surveillance method down pat, switching his eyes from one monitor to another while reading a magazine and not missing any area scanned by the cameras. Very seldom did he have to pick up his radio from the table and alert the front door security guy that someone was trying to vamoose with shop-lifted goods.
Tivey’s eyes went to the middle monitor. It was displaying the view from a camera in golf goods, and it caught a kid stuffing a golf club down the pant leg of his baggy shorts. He watched the kid cover the top of the club with his loose fitting sweatshirt. The monitor showed another kid dressed in the same over sized clothes standing close by, acting as a lookout.
He grabbed his radio from the table to alert the security guy posted at the exit. "Bingo, in sporting goods," said Tivey. "A kid in shorts and sweatshirt just lifted a golf club. There’s another kid with him."
He was quickly out of his office and on the run. Tivey, with the front door guard, caught up to the boys and grabbed them as they were making a dash to escape through the main exit. They held the boys firmly by the arms and escorted them to the security office.
"That’s a stupid thing you did," said Tivey. "We have it all on videotape."
Scott pulled the lob wedge from his shorts and sweatshirt placing it on the table. "We didn’t know you had TV. Last time it was just a metal detector."
"Yeah, you were caught on Candid Camera." Then Tivey said, "okay, I have to make a phone call to the San Diego police dispatcher." He took a deep breath and paused before asking the question that always saddened him. Bill Tivey didn’t like this part of his job, but the answer he got from Scott made it worse than ever. "Do you want to call your fathers so they’ll be here when the police
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