Buddies Travel: Myrtle Beach

The Inside Story

Pinnacle Benefits Group

Raymond Richard brings everyone a shirt with his company's insignia, but the shirts may not be worn off the premises. If anyone gets in trouble, he doesn't want them wearing his logo.

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By Peter Finch

Photo by James Rexroad

May 2010

As president of an insurance company, Raymond Richard doesn't care for surprises -- which is why he has brought his golf group to the same resort 14 out of 15 years. "We tried another place once because the greens at Legends had gotten bad," Richard recalls. "But the condos were not as nice at the other place. They had these little beds."

To Richard's mind, Legends has another advantage over some competing resorts: It's six miles north of Myrtle's main drag and all the, um, diversions down there. "We'll have a blackjack table going tonight. We want to keep 'em here and not on the road," he says. "We don't need any arrests."

The guys cook all their own dinners in the four condos they rent, and when things get really tight, Legends even lets them use the kitchen at the nearby Ailsa Pub. The food is over-the-top good. This year's menus included crawfish-stuffed chicken breast, shrimp manicotti with homemade marinara, and filet oscar, which is a grilled beef tenderloin with king-crab meat and b�arnaise sauce. The wine is also plentiful and first-rate. "There would probably be a revolt if I didn't bring the Silver Oak," says Richard, who, like most of the group, lives in North Carolina.

On the first day of golf, everyone plays his own ball on the Moorland course. The next day, at Parkland, is a scramble. Otherwise that course, with a Slope Rating of 133 even from the white tees, "is too much for the high-handicap players," Richard says. Everyone puts $125 into the pot, and there is a frenetic bidding/heckling session as the two-man teams are selected.

"The first reason we're here is the fellowship," Richard says. "Then food and beverage. Then golf is kinda third. But I do think Parkland is one of the better courses in Myrtle Beach." Just then there's a rap on the condo door. From outside there's a boastful holler: "Raymond, you're not gonna believe this corn-and-crab bisque!"