We were in the top 16 and I was chopping it with the ferocity of Jason in a Friday the 13th gore scene.
I stood on a roadside tee and launched my ball across the highway and into farmland, never to be touched by a golf club again.
It also happened to be the only ball I had left.
Sheepishly I said to Florrie, “Could I borrow a ball?”
After a typical Florrie comment ending in “son”, he obliged, went on to win the match and never let me forget it.
Peter “Florrie” Florence died on January 27 after a short illness.
To say he was a personality would be overwhelmingly understating it — something Florrie did not know the meaning of.
Florrie was larger than life — quick-witted, straight up, never one to shy away from debate.
For many, he was irresistibly likeable; for some, a tad annoying.
And he could play.
Not the prettiest left-handed swing you'd ever see but his stock-shot fade was relentlessly reliable.
That and a pretty solid short game got him down to single figures and he took great delight in regaling anyone in earshot of the time he top-qualified for the Poverty Bay senior champs, bettering an impressive array of the club's golfing elite.
He won trophies, including the 1991 Barns-Graham Cup men's pairs alongside good mate the late Allan Birrell.
Perfection was also in there — four holes in one, at least two of those witnessed by another buddy, John McLaughlin.
One ace came at an Enterprise Cars-sponsored tournament, eliciting a typical Florrie response.
“When do I get my car for the hole-in-one,” he asked Enterprise Cars owner Fred Lewis.
“Bugger off and shout the bar,” was the reply.
Florrie came to Gisborne from Taranaki, hence his other nickname — “the Taranaki Parrot”.
He remained forever true to his Naki roots.
Florrie became a staunch High School Old Boys rugby man in Gisborne.
He captained the club's top team to Lee Bros Shield glory, and went on to coach at that level.
A Herald photo showing him holding up the Lee Bros Shield in 1972 was among his favourites.
Fundraising became Florrie's passion in recent decades — in particular the annual Gisborne East Coast Cancer Society Golf Tournament.
He hit up all sorts of businesses for sponsorship and led a small but committed team over many years, promoting the tournament with the slogan “a prize for everyone”, which there was.
Florrie and his stalwart crew raised thousands of dollars over that time.
Florrie was no golfing great. He didn't win the Poverty Bay Open, play national interprovincial golf or threaten the course record.
But he was a genuine character. Once you met him, you'd never forget him. Every one of us who knew him has a tale to tell about him, reminiscences to be retold for years to come over a nostalgic beer.
Rest in peace, Florrie . . . and sorry I never returned that ball.
