By Rob Coleman
Chief Communications Officer

Jason “Scoop” Etzen has a rare talent. He can tell the same joke 15 times and get a laugh from me every time. While most other people groan when they hear Scoop repeat the same zinger for the umpteenth time, there I am, in full belly laugh mode.

I first met Scoop in 1996 when we were interns together. It was not long thereafter that I would begin telling people he was the funniest guy I know. Of course, the natural response from everyone was, “You don’t know many people, do you?”

Chief Communications Officer Rob Coleman and Executive Vice President of Development Jason "Scoop" Etzen work their first tournament together as interns in 1996. (They were still learning the rule about not wearing hats indoors.)

Maybe I don’t. But what many people don’t understand is that with Scoop, it’s not about the “funniness” of the joke. It’s about the audience, the set-up and the delivery. By the time he reaches the fairly lame punchline, you’ve already got tears coming from your eyes. From what I’ve gathered, The Scoop Model for drawing laughs always follows these three steps:

STEP 1: Make sure as many people as possible are within earshot
STEP 2: Raise your voice, just in case they’re not paying attention
STEP 3: Keep a straight face, so no one knows a joke is coming

To illustrate, here’s a typical Scoop gag, told most recently to George Thompson, the tournament chairman at The Lincoln Mercury Junior at Canoe Brook:

“George, we’re a little concerned about some potential rules problems we’ll have out on the course today. I’d like to get your opinion.”

Everyone’s interest has been piqued. They stop what they’re doing and listen intently to find out about this problem that is causing Scoop such great concern.

Not me. I’m thinking to myself – who’s going to be the victim this time? Will it be me once again?
“Yeah,” he continues, “Rob Coleman is going to be out on the course today and we’re afraid the juniors might mistake his legs for out of bounds stakes.”

Yes, it’s me. Again.

Which brings me to the point – if I actually have one. Scoop doesn’t tell jokes, per se. He “takes shots” at people, as we like to say at the AJGA.

Of course, George has no idea that Scoop fired the same shot at me the previous week at Canon Cup – or at various other pigment-challenged staff in previous months. So, he laughs. And, for some reason, so do I.

But laughing is the worst thing to do, because it only encourages him. And rest assured, if it draws a laugh once, it will be repeated often, and it will only stop being repeated when people stop laughing or Scoop thinks of something new to say.

Coleman and Etzen's intern team (a.k.a., the Dream Team of '96), along with two tournament directors (left to right): Coleman, Etzen, tournament director Steve Stack, Bobby Powell, Beth O'Reilly, tournament director Greg Allen and Gus Montano.

Even then, you never know when an old knee-slapper will resurface. Take Scoop’s old story (eight years old, to be exact) about how I fed leftover fried chicken from the AJGA staff lunch to my date for dinner. Every now and then, just when I think this tall tale has flamed out, Scoop remembers it and brings it back to life.

Which brings me to another point: Don’t believe half of what Scoop says.

Like the story Scoop tells about when I became emotionally distraught when he did not proclaim me “Intern of the Week” in Las Vegas in 1996.

“I’ve never seen Rob so mad,” is the way he usually begins it. Then, turning to me, he continues: “Remember when Beth O’Reilly was named Intern of the Week in Las Vegas. I’ve never seen you so mad. You felt like you had a really good week and that you deserved it.”

I laugh and shake my head (what else can you do when you’ve heard it at least once a month for eight years), while everyone else scratches their heads. Which pretty much sums up Scoop’s humor. He takes a shot at me. He and I laugh. Others either give a courtesy chuckle or look somewhat confused.

Rob Coleman, Jason Etzen and George Thompson at the 2005 Lincoln Mercury Junior at Canoe Brook.

So why do I still think he’s the funniest guy I know? Perhaps it’s the Seinfeld Phenomenon. (Where you seem to laugh harder each time you watch the same Seinfeld rerun?) Scoop has that effect on me.

What’s my final point? It is this: Next time you see Scoop at a tournament, turn the tables on him. Ask him if his legs are listed under O.B. Stakes on the Notice to Competitors. In fact, get all your friends to do it on a daily basis. Stand up and ask about it at the Players Meeting. Mention it at the Starter’s Tent and again at the Scoring Tent. After all, if it’s funny once, it’s even funnier the next 15 times. I learned that from Scoop.