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Readers weigh in on a range of ranges Posted: Monday December 30, 2002 3:17 PM
Sports Illustrated senior writer John Garrity was a 42-year-old 8-handicapper when he suddenly lost his swing. Since December 1989 he has been looking for it -- a modern-day Odysseus adrift on the troubled waters of swing theory. As Garrity travels the world reporting on golf, he visits as many driving ranges as he can, avoiding the dreaded "mats only" ranges that prevent him from teeing it up. Monday, Dec. 30 KANSAS CITY, Mo. -- "Reading about your worst driving ranges makes me think of paradise." That opening sentence, in an e-mail from Akshat Prasad of Bangalore, India, caught my eye. "I am not a masochist," Prasad continues, "but I am firm in my belief that golf is only a step removed from masochism." To prove his point, Prasad describes a driving range he frequents at a field near the Bangalore airport, where it is possible to dent a landing plane "with a well-lofted 9-iron" or assault a grounded aircraft with one's driver. "I, for one, hit in a direction parallel to the airport fence. This would be toward the side where a bunch of kids have their afternoon game of cricket. Having felled the bowler on his run-up with my first 7-iron, I am assured by the man who sold me my bucket that this is a 'normal occurrence.' After about 10 balls I am almost beaned by a golf ball. I then see a couple of guys at the other end of the field, 260 yards away, hitting drivers -- probably using me as a flagstick. In summary, you have people swinging from both ends of the field, a game of cricket in the middle, jet planes passing a few hundred feet above, and four range boys with umbrellas making a sport of who collects the most balls." I don't know whether to put Prasad's unnamed range in the "worst" or "best" category, but his letter typifies the heartfelt response I get each year when I ask for reader input on driving ranges. Some, like Leon Perakis of Los Altos Hills, Calif., are lucky enough to experience both the sublime and the ridiculous -- a range of ranges. "For the best practice facility," Perakis writes, "I am surprised you did not select the incredible facility at Marriott's Shadow Ridge in Palm Springs. Great driving range, excellent putting green and two fabulous short-game practice areas. As for the worst driving range, the hands-down winner has to be the range at Stanford University. The mats are old and worn out, the putting green is artificial turf, and a large bucket (100 balls) is $10. And if you are a lefty, as I am, all that is offered is four old mats isolated on the right side of the range, next to a cyclone fence. This from a university that has a billion-dollar endowment and a $45 million sports budget!" On behalf of other Stanford grads, all I can say is, "We resemble that remark." Actually, the Mats Only mailbag produces more recommendations than warnings. Steve Wick and Kirk Taylor of Portland sing the praises of the practice area at ravishing Bandon Dunes, on the Oregon coast. Tim Dougherty of Wading River, N.Y., praises the range at Pine Hills Country Club, a public course in Manorville on Long Island, "land of the five-hour round." Don Moore of Oneonta, N.Y., waxes poetic over the elevated grass tees at Canyon Springs Golf Club in San Antonio, where "balls seem to go forever, and well-struck shots hang in the air like the pro shots on ESPN." Some of the recommended ranges would make anybody's top-10 list. For instance, there's the range at The Challenge at Manele on the island of Lanai, Hawaii. "It's the best range in the world," raves Buck Wolter of St. Louis. "It overlooks about five miles of coastline and offers at least a $10 million view. And it's just $9 for a whole day of hitting balls and whale watching." Another consensus winner is the practice facility at the PGA Learning Center in Port St. Lucie, Fla. "When my wife and I went in October," writes Mark McGrover of Clearwater, Fla., "we paid only $17 for both of us to enjoy unlimited range balls and use of the facility, which did not feature a single mat." Then there's the teeming site recommended by David Norwood, a 3-handicapper from Texas, who recently moved from Guangzhou, China, to Singapore -- "a beautiful city of prohibitively expensive country clubs, poor public-golf options and a golf-loving population -- a perfect breeding ground for range rats." Norwood beats balls at the Asian Golf Academy, a new multi-storied range set amid a cluster of public-housing flats. "It has plastic mats, but I nominate it for the 'best' category because of the free putting green, inexpensive chipping/sand practice area, quality professional instruction, and the unpretentious but ample amenities." These amenities include a fully stocked pro shop, a snack shop, restrooms with showers, a foot-massage parlor and a karaoke lounge ("all songs in Mandarin"). Norwood estimates that 80 percent of the weekday customers are "regular range rats who swat balls between calls from the office. They strip down to their white undershirts -- the one beneath the shirt that bears their company's name." Though fewer bad ranges found their way into this year's mailbag, the "worst" are still plenty bad. "The Hole in One Driving Range in Gatlinburg, Tenn., is absolutely the WORST range I have ever visited," writes Jeff Parkinson of Walnut Grove, Mo. "The mats looked like they had been through a small war, and several of the balls had severe cuts in them, making them spin crazily through the air." Parkinson adds, "Have you ever tried to hit balls from the material that is inside the mats?" (J.G.: No, but I'll take a utility knife next time and see if the management will let me open one up.) Another range that failed to please is the downward-spiralling CrackerJax complex in Scottsdale, Ariz. Ron Lockaby of Scottsdale reports that this once-spiffy double-decker range has started replacing its ball supply. "Now, instead of exclusively hitting dull, worn-smooth Pinnacles, every 10th ball or so will be a dirty new one. (It is interesting that my normal 165-yard 7-iron will not reach the 150-yard flag. I guess the physics of a non-dimpled golf ball hold true.) The mats are wearing very thin, and after four visits I started developing tendinitis in my elbow." Lockaby says that CrackerJax is "overflowing" on weekends. "I just wonder where all the money goes. Surely not into upkeep." And then we have the Ten Cups Golf Center in San Antonio, which apparently subscribes to the business philosophy that the customer is always ... there. "I walked in and no one was at the counter," reports Charles Egg of Houston. "Suddenly a gruff voice came from up the stairs and said I should leave the money on the counter. I asked how much and was curtly told to look at the sign. After finally finding the sign and leaving my money on the counter -- thank goodness I had the correct amount -- I did not see any buckets of balls. The voice told me they were outside, around the corner. I felt like hitting off grass, so I asked if it was mats-only that day. The voice answered, 'No, but if you hit off the grass you are missing the point.' I quickly discovered what he meant. The grass was thick bermuda cut to about 1 1/2 inches. I hit my bucket of balls out of the rough, and as I drove out the gate I wondered how this place has stayed in business." Pete, a reader from Key West, Fla., asked the same question after paying $6 to hit 40 balls at a local range he claims is only 50 yards long. ("The probable reason: It's the only one in town.") Another shy informant, Ace of Waltham, Mass., disses the range at the ominously named Stone Meadow chip 'n' putt in Lexington, Mass. "Bad mats, baked-out, hard-clay 'grass tees,' ancient balls and surly service -- all for the top price in the area, $8 for about 80 balls." But our ultimate Deep Throat is "Unknown" of Rye, N.Y., who nominates the venerable Apawamis Club for worst range, private-club division. "In case you have not been there," he or she writes, "the first hole is the range. Not only is this dangerous, but you have to stop every time someone tees off." Apawamis might want to follow the lead of the Bangalore range and issue umbrellas to its members before they tee off. Oops, I see by the old calendar on the wall that our year is almost up. Thanks to all who wrote, and my apologies to those of you who made me smile with an e-mail that didn't find its way into the column. Please continue to send me your advice, your criticism, your encouragement and your gifts of cash in small, unmarked bills. We'll pick it up again in 2003, somewhere this side of paradise. Watch this space for another installment of Mats Only. To send John Garrity advice, share your experiences, or suggest a driving range, click here.
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