If you have ever wanted to stick it to the coiffed blond manes of Williams, here is your chance: live vicariously through Pete Taylor ’12.
A college golf tournament in our league is just about as pretentious as you would guess: kids from Wesleyan’s preppy counterparts blame the conditions of the greens for their bad scores in purple and yellow uniforms.
Taylor is the exception. He is thoroughly modest and down-to-earth. He is a golfer who Wesleyan’s anti-elitist outlook can support.
He is also good. Scary good. Like instill-fear-in-the-rest-of-the-’CAC good.
This weekend, Taylor won the Trinity Invitational, meaning that he beat every single kid on Trinity, Amherst, and a bunch of other schools—and he did it without making a peep.
Taylor shot an even par 71 on Saturday. No big deal. On Sunday afternoon, he was in the hunt, but needed to make birdie on the 18th. He dialed in a 225-yard three iron to the tiny third shelf of the green. For those who have not played golf before, Taylor had to hit with one of those narrow clubs that does not give you any loft way past the “200” sign in a space about as a wide as a doorway under immense pressure. No problem for Taylor—and it was nothing but a head nod in a ratty hat while he sat on the terrace watching the competition fold.
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