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A lovely time on a links Posted: Monday July 28, 2003 3:46 PM
The late-evening light was golden and we basked in it, soaking up the angled rays that threw marvelous shadows across the ridges and bunkers of Royal Cinque Ports Golf Club. It was the night before the British Open at Royal St. George's, two or three miles away via a narrow country lane that winds through the fields and flatlands, and colleague Michael Bamberger and I were determined to play 18 holes before dark. He'd gotten us the wave at Cinque Ports -- that's golf-writerspeak for free golf -- because he'd raved about the course in his 1992 finestkind golf book To The Linksland (your copy is probably next to your Earth, Wind & Fire and Thompson Twins cassettes), and the pro remembered the writeup. Also, he remembered that Bamberger had sent him a free copy. (Note to you kids at home: Free book = free golf, even if it's 11 years later.) Anyway, the course and the evening glow were more memorable than our hackalicious golf. And nothing beat the evening sky. While we were bathed in the most perfect, Kevin Costner-movie light, a batch of dark, almost purple, clouds mushroomed across the sky just out over the ocean in what I think is called Sandwich Bay. As the sun sank lower, its rays hit the moisture-rich clouds just right. It was half a staggering rainbow at first, then, after a few minutes, it turned into a Full Monty of a rainbow. We could see it coming out of the ocean, arcing across miles of sky and sinking back into the sea. The whole nine yards of rainbow. It was more than impressive; it was stunning. The only thing missing was the Lucky Charms leprechaun but, hey, this was England, not Ireland, so anything that humorous simply wouldn't have been tolerated ... or understood. Bamberger is also close friends with Davis Love III and helped ghostwrite Love's memoir Every Shot I Take (although I could've sworn that title was already taken by a Police song). Anytime a rainbow pops up on the same continent as Love, the rainbow is credited to his late father, as taken from the scene at the 1997 PGA Championship at Winged Foot, where Love holed out on the 18th green beneath a rainbow for his first (and so far only) major championship. It was seen as a sign, and maybe it was. But my suggestions to Bamberger that he pray to Mr. Love II to cure his worsening slice were ignored, pretty much like he ignores the other ridiculous and sometimes tasteless remarks I come up with. Can't blame him there. A second mirror rainbow never fully materialized, although parts of it were evident. The whole rainbow experience is what I'll always associate with Cinque Ports. Actually, Cinque Ports reminded me a little of the Old Course at St. Andrews. I don't think I've ever played a course so good that looked so unimpressive. I'd be hard-pressed to describe the holes to you because, well, there isn't much to describe. They're flat, they're bunkered, they're mostly featureless but lined by fescue, they're hard by the ocean and ... they're terrific. There isn't a bad hole out there. In fact, whatever the worst hole was, it was still at least a B+. The par-3s were particularly swell, notably the 165-yard eighth, which plays back toward the ocean, and the 222-yard 14th, which was a bear. Cinque Ports is a wonderful golfing experience. The only drawback is that while most of the hay is the perfect density -- hard to play a good shot out of but not too thick to find your ball -- the course is so lacking in features that when you hit a tee shot into the rough, by the time you walk the 250 yards, you can't tell within 25 yards where your ball went in. If you could narrow the search area, you'd have a chance to find it. What you need most at Cinque Ports are caddies -- or, better yet, a forecaddie. You'd be hard-pressed to lose a ball then (although I bet Bamberger and I could still accomplish that), and playing this challenging course would be more enjoyable ... if that's possible. Clouds on the horizon suddenly cut off our golden sunset light, and not long after, those rainbow-causing clouds drifted our way, just enough to splatter us with a few buckets full of rain. The course, packed with slow-playing tourists (and probably other golf writers) began to clear because of the precipitation and the dusk. I don't want to say it was too dark to play the last three holes -- let's just say even Clark Kent would've been squinting -- but we persevered as other groups, stuck behind us, gave up and walked in, including a foursome from a rival golf publication. Our strategy changed from playing the hole to hitting safe shots that we'd be able to find. By the time we reached No. 18, cars driving past had their headlights on and the lights from the clubhouse were ruining our night vision. A tiny stream or canal crossed the short (407 yards) hole, which we laid up to on our tee shots. There's something freeing and enabling about playing in the dark (or a thick fog) when you can't follow the ball in the sky and have no idea where it's going and no expectation of finding it. I usually swing better. Sure enough, my knockdown 6-iron at the 18th wound up pin-high, 15 feet left of the stick, although I had no idea it was that good at the time I hit it. Bamberger, who'd spent a little too much time in the deep fescue on the back, poured an equally lovely iron shot (if only we'd seen it) onto the green. We made pars, walked back to the parking lot (now lit by the lights inside the clubhouse) and got into our cars. Night was half-fallen, ominous clouds had crawled across the sky, raindrops were spitting intermittently like a two-minute warning before the real storm, and a breeze was freshening. It was a beautiful evening for golf. MailbagI say, old chap, shall we check the Mailbag? I wholeheartedly endorse your position on speeding up play, but I don't think laser rangefinders would help. The slowpokes wouldn't keep theirs handy, and, after fumbling in their bags to find the things, would probably feel the need to triangulate the ball's position relative to the hole, then double- or triple-check their measurements. Courses can help by making sure their yardage markers are easily spotted. Raised, colored buttons on cart paths are very helpful, and a couple of my favorite muni tracks have steel poles about 3-feet high with colored stripes on them positioned out of the way in the rough. Also, beginners should be taught/encouraged by teachers and knowledgeable friends to look for those obvious markers and take note of wind and other conditions as they walk or ride to their balls between shots.
It's amazing how many courses have minimal markings on hard-to-find or scattered sprinkler heads. In fact, it's amazing how many courses don't have any kind of yardage plate on par-3 holes. You're right as Wayne, though, about the schmoes who are slow now still being slow even with rangefinders. But, like rubber bullets, it couldn't hurt. The Champions Tour age minimum is 50. Why do most golf courses give senior discounts at 55? I believe it should conform to the pro tour, since we all play the same game.
Have a few more Coronas, AF. First off, we don't play the same game as tour pros. You're kidding yourself. Second, the USGA does enforce an age minimum of 55 for the U.S. Senior Amateur. I really like your main question, though, and it's one I often ask: Why do golf courses give senior discounts? Seniors have come to see this as some kind of birthright. Get serious. Your tax dollars didn't go to pay for the golf course over the last 40 years (in most cases), the course is self-sufficient and lives off its daily fees. So why should an old-timer pay less than I do? We're equal as customers. You don't go into a Mercedes dealer and say, "Sir, I'm on a fixed income. Can I buy this C-Class for $12,000 instead of the $32,000 that everyone else pays?" The marketplace will determine greens fees, that's the great thing about capitalism. Golf courses should offer a fair rate on a greens fee for everyone and not discriminate against those of us who aren't yet seniors. Can you comment on the problems Karrie Webb is experiencing this year? From the heights of a few years ago to missing cuts at prestigious tournaments. What's wrong with her game?
I think she's been hanging out with Ian Baker-Finch and David Duval too much, Mac. I noticed you think the U.S. Open will go back to Olympia Fields in 2011. I am an Oak Hill member, and while I'm happy the PGA is being played there this year, I am more than a little miffed we are not on the Open schedule for the foreseeable future. I thought that hosting the 1998 Amateur would make us a lock for an Open before 2012. Hole for hole, Oak Hill is one on the best tracks in the country. It killed the pros in the 1995 Ryder Cup, the new yardage makes it even more of a killer, and I believe it is overdue for another Open. Thoughts?
The USGA is already way overloaded in the east with Open sites -- Shinnecock Hills and Bethpage on Long Island, plus Winged Foot. I agree, Oak Hill is a killer track. If the club asks the USGA for an Open, I don't see how the USGA could say no. But the next available Open probably isn't until 2012 -- or, according to Zagar and Evans, 2525. Besides walking on the "through line" of a putt (which got Michelle Wie in hot water with Danielle AmmaccaPAINe) what other relatively obscure etiquette rules are followed on the professional tours as opposed to the muni golf I play?
The pros consider it good form to wear shirts, long pants and not start rolling their squeaky pullcart until after the other players swing. Isn't there a PGA Tour policy that says members are obligated to report cheating at their earliest opportunity? If so, Tiger Woods' silence on players that he "knows" are using illegal drivers means he condones the practice. By not naming names, he is as guilty as they are.
You may be thinking of the Air Force Academy, where the cadets wouldn't consider violating even the most insignificant of rules and where the administrators would quickly and effectively handle the rare instance of any such abuse. No, wait -- I think that's actually the Mafia. I agree with you: Tiger can't have it both ways. If he knows something, then he should spill it. Top 10 suggestions for dealing with a sandbagger:
6. Call him "Sandy" throughout the round.
2. Get a caddy (or partner) who looks like Halle Bailey. Have her dress the part. Make sure she teases the sandbagger as much as possible throughout the entire round. Then have her leave with you after the 18th hole.
1. Tell the beverage cart girl that he's buying. Sorry, Fuzz, I edited your list down to the only three sort-of-funny ones. And, hey, if that Halle Bailey chick is half as good-looking as Halle Berry, the Oscar-winning actress ... that could definitely work. Sports Illustrated senior writer Gary Van Sickle writes for the magazine's Golf Plus section and is a regular contributor to SI.com. Click here to send him a question or comment.
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