I have managed to play golf in 17 states, as well as Canada and Mexico. I did not expect these anecdotes to turn into a tome; however, I just want to talk a little bit about some of the courses:
I have only played on several courses the pros play on. Very nice.
But I would like to mention that these small-town courses are usually the pride of the whole town. They are well-kept and not expensive to play.
While we were visiting my wife’s sister, she told me she thought the next town over — Richmond, Mo. — had a golf course. So I got directions and drove over.
Richmond has a great little hometown golf course! They sent me out to join a threesome. Turned out, they were high school football coaches from Kansas City. An hour’s drive, but they were members there just because of that course. What a place!
My wife and I called three families of her cousins who were also friends of mine from years past. We told them we weren’t sure when we would be there. They said, “See you when you get here.”
We arrived late afternoon in Greencastle, Ind. While looking for a motel, we passed a golf course. After we got settled, I told my wife I was going back — maybe I could play nine.
So when I pulled into the place, I see about 30 guys up on this large deck. It was evident they were having an outing of sorts. When I went into the pro shop, the gentleman said they were just finishing up their day. He invited me to have a hot dog and a beer. I asked if I could play nine. He said, “Sure. Take any one of those carts over there.” I reached for my money clip. Nine bucks. He said I’d might as well play the back nine, and No 10 tee is “right down there.” I get a cart, put my golf shoes on, get my clubs and drive around back to the tee. The sign says: “Par 4, 280 yards, white tee.”
When I look out, I see a nice little pond guarding the left side of the green. It also had a water spout in the middle. I swing two clubs a few times to get ready, country music playing low. I can’t hear much talking — I know that they are all watching me from that deck. I’m thinking to myself, Just hit it. You’ll never see any of those
fellows again. Try to make a good pass at it.
When I hit it, I said to myself, Stay right there, baby. It hit about 20 yards short and trickled up on the green. From where I’m standing, it looks like it’s up against the flagstick. When I get to the green, I have a 5-footer. This green is flat. I find out later, the whole golf course is flat. I take the flag out. I don’t know the speed. I’ll just ease it up there. Whatever happens, happens. Turned out great.
I didn’t look back. I play a fast nine. When I finished, I go into the pro shop. There’s a couple guys still out on the deck. The pro asks, “How’d you do?” “It looked like you eagled 10.” I told him I birdied No. 16, but had three bogeys — even-par 35.
The pro said, “You must be an ‘A’ player. We’re having a scramble tomorrow morning. Are you gonna be around? We have a shortage of ‘A’ players.
I told him I would have to talk to my wife. When I got back to the motel, I asked my wife if she had called the cousins yet. She said no. I told her I was invited to play a scramble in the morning, would she mind? Naturally, she said, “Sounds like fun. I’ll sleep late then sit by the pool.” I told her we should be done by 2.
I get to the course. Get my stuff and check in. The pro says, “Hey, glad you could make it. What’s your name again?” I don’t remember telling him my name the previous night. He calls to one of the guys, “Hey, Erskine, this is your ‘A’ player.” I don’t remember our other two players’ names, but I remember Erskine. I never heard that name again until one of the fellows being chased by Crocodile Dundee, in that movie, was named Erskine.
We shake hands, he introduces the other two players. We’re starting on 1, shotgun start. Everybody heads for their tees.
We go over to No. 1, par 5, 509 yards. This course is flat. I can’t see the green, and told them so. I’m told, “The green is over there, on the other side of those trees” It’s to the left, 180 degrees. I was told we have to drive past that row of trees, hit left at about a 45-degree angle, then hit the third shot to the green.
“How wide is that strip of trees?, I asked, and I’m told it’s about 75 yards, and it’s 50 yards to the trees.” I can hit my 7-wood a little farther than that, but that’s all I have.
I ask about the order they like to hit. They said what most scrambles do: “D” player, “C” player, “B” player, “A” player. When my turn comes, I hit it hard and high. We’re looking for it to come down. Nobody sees it come down. About halfway up the fairway, they have a crossover spot.
My ball is in front of the green. It struck me funny that when I hit the ball, I would be to the right of the green, but when we got the ball, it was in front of the green. So we get there, my ball is slightly past direction-wise, and 20 yards short of the green. The pin is about 20 feet on. We have a 27-yard pitch.
I’m thinking a little pitch-and-run might be good. I am also thinking about a 4-inch high back swing. Like a bullet, 2 inches off the ground, it hits the pin dead center, takes a little back hop, and stops 5 inches from the cup.
Erskine says to the “D” player, “You put it there, go tap it in.” The player starts over, and Erskine says, “Not with your 6-iron! Use your putter!” The player said, “My putter’s broke. I figured I’d use yours.”
We only had three other birdies. One of them came on No. 10. I own that hole! Tidy little 75.
I had a great time. All nice fellows. But as I said to myself on No. 10 the night before: I’ll never see any of these guys again.
