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Ron Cordes was one of my closest friends back in the 1980s when we were fellow members of the University Club, a Downtown Miami men’s social club, and Coral Oaks, a private tennis club located in what now is the Village of Pinecrest. As fellow members of the board of directors and presidents of the University Club, we became even closer friends over years.
At the tennis courts, Ron and I often would partner together for a round of doubles. One day, Ron asked if I would loan him some cash for grocery shopping on his way home. I said, “Of course. Take what you need. My wallet is in my tennis bag.”
Moments later when we began play, it was my turn to serve. Just when I was prepared to toss the ball into the air, Ron shouted, “Your serve, Cleon.”
For the remainder of the round, Ron had a field day reminding me of my middle name, Cleon, over and over again.
“Nice shot Cleon. Your serve Cleon.” Etcetera.
I assumed that Ron noticed my driver’s license while rummaging through my wallet for grocery money that, indeed, included my full name – Lucien Cleon Proby lll.
It was my turn for revenge and the first thing I noticed in the University Club membership listing was his full name, H. Ronald Cordes. Perhaps the “H” was as peculiar as “Cleon” I surmised. The hard part was how to find out. I looked at his resume in the club membership directory and all I could find was again the “H.” Not a bit discouraged, I came to the conclusion that I needed to find out Ron’s first name through his wife, Becky.
I organized our phone conversation by listing as many names as possible that began with the letter “H” since she would most likely protect his name if it was as peculiar as Cleon.
My list included Harold, Harvey, Harrison, Hank, Hugo and Harlin, to name a few.
Of course, I needed a reason for calling Becky and I told her that I was planning to present Ron a very special birthday card that required including his full name. She bit the hook. His name in full was Horace Ronald Cordes. No guessing game with Becky was needed. Now it was payback time.
The following Saturday, the tennis players gathered as usual at 8 a.m. to determine who was playing with whom. I purposely waited for everyone to arrive and then walked towards the group.
“Good morning, everyone,” I said out loud. “And what a great day to play tennis. Don’t you think so, Horace?”
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