By Bob Albright

It was a few years back that I got my first introduction to these winged warriors, that make their cousins in the horsefly family seem as harmless as a tap-in putt. With only a four-foot par putt standing between me and a free frosty one at the 19th hole, I took an extra few moments to go through my pre-shot routine.

Swing with your shoulders…  relax the neck muscles…  putt through the ball… wait, what just landed on the back of my leg? Never mind, back to business, just drain this putt… a little left edge should do it…

The ensuing putt, which rocketed a good five feet past the cup at breakneck speed, was thanks to the kind of adrenalin surge that only comes from losing a chunk of your calf right in your backswing. I have since learned that no shot is that important. When you feel that unmistakable thud (these creatures simply don’t come equipped with landing gear), it’s time to clear the decks.

So what’s the deal with these double-bogey-producing bandits? Where do they come from and why do they seem to thrive on anyone wearing a visor and a golf glove who strays within a couple of miles of the coast in July? Well, one of the many classic quotes uttered by Richard Dreyfuss’s character, Matt Hooper, in the movie “Jaws” pretty much sums it up.

“What we are dealing with here is a perfect engine, er... an eating machine. It’s really a miracle of evolution. All this machine does is swim and eat and make little sharks and that’s all.”

Substitute “flies” for “swim” and “little greenheads” for “little sharks” and Hooper’s assessment is spot on. According to experts, greenheads mate in marshy areas along the coast and one female greenhead is capable of producing some 200 to 300 eggs that are left to hatch under leaves and grass in the marsh. After that first batch of eggs are laid, the female greenhead requires fresh blood – a lot of it – to lay the next several batches and that is precisely where the back of your leg comes into play.

To the uninitiated it is a pretty scary dynamic, but for those who are forced to deal with these air strikes every summer, it’s a nuisance and nothing more – at least that’s their story.

“Greenheads? What are those?” long time Ould Newbury head pro Jim Hilton asked with a chuckle. “Seriously, they really are very friendly. I recommend everyone stop by and try one, they’re very tasty.”

While few have actually put a knife and fork to one of these winged warriors at the scenic course that hugs the Great Marsh in Newbury, they have learned to deal with them. In fact, if you catch someone flinching at fly-by here, it’s as much of a tip off that they’re tourists as the colorful plates on their car.

“The only complaints we really ever get about them usually come from people who are on a holiday and even then they don’t find them too bad,” says Hilton.

Much like the intimidating tree that stands directly in the middle of the fairway on the club’s challenging ninth hole (one of the toughest par 3s on the North Shore), veteran golfers at Ould Newbury have simply learned how to play “around” these aerial obstacles as well.

“The good thing is that it’s a very short season – about two weeks – and over the last couple of years they have not been that bad for whatever the reason,” Hilton noted. “But they will take a chunk out of you. It’s just something that you have to deal with and prepare for if you’re going to play golf anywhere on the coast in July from Cape Ann to Salisbury.

“There’s Skin So Soft and other repellants that seem to work and you have to dress for it. If you wear shorts during greenhead season, well, you’re asking for it.”

Like Hilton points out, golfers can take solace in the fact that just as quickly as greenheads show up, as a rule they seem to get out of Dodge just as quickly. There’s also the “three-second-rule.”

If there is one great leveling factor golfers have in their favor against these ferocious flesh-eating critters, it’s that they’re not particularly quick to get down to business. Whether they happen to be on the back of your neck or the back of your leg, greenheads take a good three seconds to set the table as it were. This grace period gives golfers ample time to drop their clubs, do their best barrel roll, and then regroup.

As the director of the Massachusetts Audubon Education Center and Wildlife Sanctuary at Joppa Flats in Newburyport, Bill Gette sees his office – the wildlife-rich flats and surrounding marshes – turned into a virtual aerial war zone each July. While he subscribes to the three-second-rule, he adds one big proviso.

“Yes, there is a three-second-rule,” he says. “But the thing is that while you’re counting down the seconds on the greenhead on the back of your leg, the clock is also running on the one on your arm.”

And that’s not to mention the three hitching a ride on your visor, patiently waiting for that big pressure putt on the next hole to really leave their mark – both on your leg and your scorecard.