Kennishaw "Niblick" Taylor Looks back on 100 Years of Arizona Golf

"Call me 'Niblick'," the old man said, rising from the table to greet me. He was thin as a twig and looked as if he would be blown away by a decent gust of wind. Then again, he was a hundred and four years old.

Kennishaw "Niblick" Taylor was an Arizona golf legend who spent much of his life barnstorming around the state and playing exhibition matches and performing trick-shot demonstrations. He never golfed a PGA sanctioned tournament and has been mostly overlooked by history. This is his story.


Niblick Taylor (far right) caddying at the San Marcos -1913

When I was asked to do a story about a hundred years of Arizona golf for the state's Centennial, I began researching the topic and the name of Kennishaw Taylor caught my eye. I began to ask some old-timers about Taylor and learned that not only was he still alive, he still lived here in the desert he loved. After some fast-talking and palm-greasing, arrangements were made for me to meet the legend in a coffee shop in Apache Junction.

"You can only believe about half of what I say," the old man told me, a twinkle in his ancient eye. "The hard part is I don't remember which half is the truth..." So began our interview. I could find very little recorded history regarding Taylor, who at various parts of our interview claimed he was the founder of Taylor guitars, Taylor-Made golf clubs and the father of Andy Taylor, "the famous sheriff from the TV". Even the photograph Niblick Taylor showed me of himself as a boy caddying at the San Marcos golf course in 1913 didn't ring true. If the photo had indeed been taken in 1913 as he claimed, he would have been 5 years-old. The boy in the photograph looks a few years older than that. Could he have simply gotten his dates wrong, or was he pulling my leg?

"Where did you get the name 'Niblick'?" I asked. The old man leaned back and smiled. His cocoa was cooling - he said drinking it too hot made him anxious. "Well, before your time and all your fancy names for golf clubs - like '9-iron' and '8-iron' and '7-iron' and so-forth, we had a set of logical names for the clubs - each name was standard and all clubs conformed to this naming convention. We had 'Mashies' and of course 'Mid-Mashie' and 'Spade-Mashie', as well as the 'Mashie-Iron'. There was the 'Jigger' and the 'Brassie' and the 'Spoon'. We also had a 'Brassie-Spoon' and a 'Cleek', but I don't want to confuse you. The 'Niblick' was the equivalent of what you would call a '9-iron' in today's fancy terms. There was also a 'Mashie Niblick' and a 'Pitching Niblick'." Taylor sipped his cocoa. "That was back when things was simple... Anyhow, I once holed out a shot from behind a tree, in thick rough, standing in a puddle of water, with a horse and cart standing in front of the green. With my Niblick. They started calling me "Niblick" after my amazing shot and the name stuck. Of course, I practiced that shot all the time, so it was nothing new for me, but the rest of the gang thought it was pretty amazing."

I asked Niblick how golf had changed in Arizona over the last century, trying to keep the interview on course. "Well, for one thing, you don't have to run from Apaches," he said. He tore a square from his toast and dipped in into the cocoa. Then he let go of the square and it sank to the bottom of his cup. He didn't seem to mind. "Why, I remember once I was on the last hole of an amazing round - back then the fairways was dirt and the greens was oiled sand - I was on the verge of shooting a 54. I lined up my putt and was preparing to knock in an 8-footer for the record-setting score, when all of the sudden we heard this whooping and hollering - it was a small war party of Apache Indians coming over the rise to get our scalps! We ran to our horses and beat them back into town, but needless to say, I never finished the round and my 54... Well..." The old man stared at his cocoa.

"Who was the most famous person you ever golfed with?" I asked. Niblick smiled. "I took Bob Hope for six thousand dollars at the Phoenix Country Club in 1947... I beat the hell out of Chico Marx when he refused to pay up on his losses, once. He bet I couldn't hit a golf ball teed up on a four-foot pole from ahorseback 250 yards...Threw the little bastard around the clubhouse at the Biltmore and threatened to break his piano fingers with a Spade Mashie..." Niblick leaned in conspiratorially. "I had sex with Carole Lombard at the Biltmore, too - one night by the pool. Her husband was passed out drunk in a chair right next to us." "You mean Clark Gable?" I asked. Niblick thought for a moment. "That might have been his name..."

"What is your favorite memory of this last century of golf in Arizona?" I asked. The old man was tiring. His cocoa had gone cold and now he was simply dropping little torn squares of toast into the cup and watching them sink. He gazed wistfully at the toast-filled cup. "Carole Lombard..." "Besides Carole Lombard," I prodded.

"Well," he began, gesturing out the window at the ramshackle Apache Junction buildings lining the trail. "Before all this, a man really had to want to golf. There weren't golf courses on every corner, they certainly weren't green and beautiful - they were mostly dirt - and it was devilish-hot most of the year." We both looked at the cocoa - the toast had swelled up in the cup and now oozed over the rim like a muffin-top. "You had to ride in a hot coach or on the back of horse for twelve or fifteen miles through dust with barely a marked road just to get to a golf course." Niblick picked up a spoon and began to gently dig at the cocoa-toast. He spooned a bit into his mouth. He pointed the spoon and leveled his eyes at me. "Back then a man had to really want to golf."

He turned back to his cup and I rose to go. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Taylor."

"Call me Niblick," he said.

Why Cable Television Sucks

First of all, I am not certain whether it is cable TV or satellite TV. There is a dish on the roof, but there is also a cable running from my wall to the box, then another from the box to the television. So, you tell me - it's silly to differentiate for anyone who isn't a cable television installer. We don't care what you call it, as long as when I press the "On" button on the remote, my football game comes on. That's Sucky-Point #1.

This week I changed my cable/satellite television plan. I had three receivers - one in each bedroom and a third in the living room, two of which were armed with recording capabilities. I am sending two receivers back and with tears in my eyes, moved the surviving receiver (the best one - most heartily equipped) to the living room. There will be no more burying myself in my nice sheets and letting Alfred Hitchcock or another dismal Suns loss carry me off to Dreamland. That makes me sad - Sucky-Point #2.

I cancelled my Showtime subscription - the only reason I had it was to watch Rick Springfield on "Californication", then got hooked on the show like a crack-whore. The rest of Showtime was a magnificent disappointment - since I signed up for the channel two years ago, the station has introduced a total of two new movies, both starring Nicolas Cage - Sucky-Point #3. The upside of having the Underachieving Showtime family of stations was that I also got the Encore family of stations, which runs the beloved "Alfred Hitchcock Hour" (Encore Mystery) and a spate of fine Western entertainment (Encore Western). I often enjoy a good Western picture. These stations are gone now, too - Sucky-Point #4.

I also cut my plan down to the bare-bones - the least expensive package possible. When I fired up the living room television (see Sucky-Point #2), I found that I had lost the station that carries the dismal Suns losses and Diamondback games during baseball season. I braced myself for local sports on the radio - it was good enough for my pop and his pop; it was good enough for me. Further investigation revealed that I had also inadvertently nixed The Golf Channel, History II, The Military Channel and a Few Others. I grumbled and switched back to the original plan, sans The Showtime/Encore Package. Back to the television and I was delighted to find the D-Backs/Dismal Suns Loss Channel back in commission. Further perusal revealed that I had apparently permanently assassinated the Golf Channel, History II, The Military Channel and a Few Others. Were they somehow inexplicably linked to the Underachieving Showtime Family? I didn't know and have yet to learn the truth - Sucky Point #5.

If these five Sucky-Points aren't enough to convince you that cable/satellite television sucks, please feel free to leave a comment in the space provided below. I will then add more. Or you can add your own and save me some work, which I always greatly appreciate, being one of the laziest souls on the planet. It's a gift.

Now, all that said, I would like it to be known that I am not one to simply sit back and bitch and wait for someone to give me a hug, although hugs are also nice and equally greatly appreciated. I have a solution that would solve most, if not all of the Sucky Points and seems to me to be fairly straightforward and simple. And when I am King, this will be one of the first changes I will enact. That and cell-phone-blockers installed in all automobiles. There is nothing that can't wait until you get off the road - just last week, I witnessed two accidents where a vehicle was rear-ended by another vehicle whose stalwart driver was thumbing away at a cell-phone. I didn't stop, however - I assumed the police would be able to figure these accidents out, given the lack of skid-marks and the times in which we are living. My do-gooderness only goes so far - especially when I'm driving home from work, which is time-consuming enough as it is... But I digress.

What the cable/satellite companies should do is come up with a plan where the valued customer picked his own stations from the list of available offerings. Perhaps a 10-station plan for the resolute, a 25-station plan for those who have a fair notion of what viewing they prefer, 30/50/100 station packages on hand for the extravagant and indecisive. It seems to me that this would be a popular change and would revolutionize the industry. It would also see an unfortunate but necessary end to the peripheral stations with little to no subscribership. Bye-bye "The Watch-Fixer's Network".

Here is a list of my sample-subscription package. The 10-station plan (for I am nothing if not resolute):

1) The D-Backs/Dismal Suns Loss Channel. I would prefer to be able to support my home teams in my home, where beer is cheap, food is plentiful and I can watch in my skivvies. Hockey may be included in the programming - not sure, since even hockey games in the listings on the guide make my eyes glaze over...

2) Showtime. Purely for "Californication", the bastards.

3) Encore Mystery. Or better yet, The Alfred Hitchcock Network, which would be put into the rotation once I have been elected King.

4,5,6,7) ABC/NBC/CBS and ESPN: For sports. It's a pity to waste four selections on channels for sporting events, but again until I am elected King and decree that all sports are to be aired on ESPN and cut out all their useless drivel between events, we are caught in a tough, tough place.

8) The Food Network. Which would be named "The Chopped Network" and appropriately programmed when I am King.

9) The History Channel. I like History. And documentaries - preferably in black and white.

10) TCM. I like classic movies as well. Also preferably in black and white.

There should also be a "Raquel Welch Channel" and a "Silent Film Network", both of which would make my ten-channel list, effectively booting "The Food Network" and CBS, which invariably shows the crummiest sports, straight to the curb.

So comment if you wish to help me finalize my plan for submission to congress, the cable/satellite companies and George Clooney and we will get this thing started. It will enrich all our lives and take a little of the cock and bull out of our daily lives and cut it down to the preferred and enjoyable. And remember to vote Jerry Ford for King in the upcoming election. If elected, I will wear epaulets.