Golf? No thanks. Growing up in California in the '60s, I was
much more into boys. Besides, golf clothes were not cute.
It took me 25 years to get with the program. In 1992 my husband,
Jeff Lester, and I went to Orcas Island in Puget Sound, Wash.,
for our honeymoon. After days of tennis, hiking, biking and
kayaking we noticed a funky little public golf course, and in no
time we were passionate golfers. Only six months later I was at
the Greater Greensboro Open--just watching!--when Reggie Jackson
dropped out of the celebrity pro-am. Tournament officials needed
a pinch-celeb. All I had to do, they said, was tee it up with
John Daly with thousands of people watching.
To make a long-driving story short, I survived. On one hole,
playing from the red tees with a huge distance advantage, I
actually outdrove John. That taught me two things: I love
hitting it long, and John Daly is a complete sweetheart. If he
minded hitting his second shot before the girl in the group, he
didn't show it.
Length is still my strength as a golfer. Hitting my
stiff-shafted driver up to 260 yards, I'm long enough to
outdrive quite a few grown men. I get a kick out of playing with
them because they're so competitive. I play from the whites
these days, and I try like crazy to hit it past the guys.
At home in Las Vegas you'll find me at the TPC at Sumerlin,
where they call me Vijay because I spend so much time on the
driving range. I love the range--wide open space, no rough and
no trees. I'll lose track of time and hit hundreds of balls,
imagining that I'm out on tour with Annika Sorenstam and Kelly
Robbins. Then it's suddenly time to hurry off to work.
I may be the only Vegas headliner with blisters on her hands.
Susan Anton is a 15 handicapper at the TPC at Sumerlin.