Eighth Hole 321 yards
This is almost a 90� dogleg to the right with acres of sand dunes bordering the right side of the fairway from tee to green. In short, it is a sheer's nightmare.
"Where is it?" Ike asked, meaning the green. He was told not to cut off too much of the right side, but his ball sliced into the mountain of sand anyway. This time the caddy car could not follow, and Ike walked up the sand. He had a poor lie and hit it only 10 feet. Still in the sand, he had a better lie, but he hit it "fat" and the ball went 20 more feet into a big heelprint. His opponents were already in the vicinity of the green, so Ike said, "I've had it. Pick it up." He trudged over the sand to the green, the only hole he actually walked all day. At the green, Morse and Hunt, who know this hole as the terror of the uninitiated, smiled sympathetically but knowingly. "Have a little trouble?" asked Morse. "Not a little," said Ike, "but a lot." No score here, but Ike might have had a 6 or a 7 if he had played it out.
Ninth hole 295 yards
10th hole 475 yards
11th hole 436 yards
Good drive, but a sliced four-wood second shot. It was at this point Ike mentioned for the first time that his muscles were not toned up, that he could play better with more practice. Also he mentioned that this was his first full round since leaving the hospital in June. He said it like Joe Golfer, perhaps forgetting for a moment that his hospital visits were the most publicized in America. Ike, continuing this self-analysis, explained that because he needed "toning" he had a tendency to "punch" at the ball.
Continuing the 11th, he wedged to the left edge of the green, chipped up stony for a bogey 5.
12th hole 402 yards
13th hole 353 yards