GOLF IN THE ‘90S : When It Came to Tee Times, He Was Johnny-on-the-Spot

Roy Carson knows all about what it takes to get the tee time you want. For 20 years, he spent one night a week sleeping in his car on Gilbert Avenue in front of the H.G. Dad Miller Golf Course so he could reserve the first Saturday morning tee time.

“I usually got there at 1:15 a.m. (Monday),” said Carson, who has lived down the street from the course for 25 years. “They would open the gates at 4:30 or 5, but they wouldn’t start taking tee times until 7.”

Long before the first name was written on the starter’s list--Carson’s, of course--about 20 other cars would be in line behind him.

“They would take one out of the line and one off the phone,” he said. “If you were eighth in line, that meant 16 tee times were already booked.”

Carson, 80, didn’t miss many of his Monday morning vigils. Twice, he managed to get a tee time over the phone from Hawaii while on vacation. One other golfer occasionally beat Carson to the first spot in line, but “he always let me get that first time, anyway,” Carson says.

Dad Miller and Anaheim Hills golf courses now have computerized phone reservation systems, so Carson is just another guy frantically pushing the redial button. With all the golfers in his foursome trying to get through, they usually get a time, but seldom their first-out-of-the-gate favorite.

And Carson doesn’t seem to enjoy sleeping in his own bed seven nights a week as much as he misses the good old days.

“Sometimes in the winter, we’d even build a little fire to stay warm,” Carson said. “They say they changed the system because there were too many people and fights in the street. I never, ever heard an argument about who was ahead of who in line. There were no arguments, except maybe about politics or religion.”

At least they didn’t sing campfire songs.