Some knucklehead was joyriding at Topstone golf course in South Windsor, CT where I'm a part-time member of a golf league.
Fortunately, I was still able to make a birdie when I played this hole the following day.
http://www.courant.com/community/south-windsor/hc-south-windsor-golf-course-0820-20100819,0,733176.story
Topstone's a nice track when there aren't upside down cars in the bunkers.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Two Stroke Penalty on the PGA
The organization dedicated to growing the game of golf managed to take a step backward this past weekend with the unsettling conclusion of the 2010 PGA Championship.
On the 18th hole of the final round, with a one stroke lead, Dustin Johnson appeared to have just missed a putt for a scrambling par that would have secured him the title. Settling for bogey, he would still have a chance for victory in a 3-man, 3-hole playoff, or so he thought. Instead he was assessed a two stroke penalty for grounding his club in a bunker on his second shot, leaving him two strokes back and out of the playoff.
It was one of those instances where I'm sure casual fans said, "huh?" (or stronger) as the situation seemed unfair. It made a bit more sense to seasoned golf fans like me, but I think the situation could have been avoided. If you're still confused, I'll break it down for you and provide three keys to remember for both the PGA and players alike.
The PGA Championship is sponsored by the Professional Golfers Association of America, the club professionals who teach golf and run golf courses. The PGA's stated purpose is to grow the game of golf, which is ironic, since I can't imagine the conclusion Sunday made many new golf fans.
The rule that Dustin Johnson violated is pretty straightforward. All but the most hackneyed hackers know you can't ground a club (as in set on the ground) in a bunker or other hazard. The problem is that Whistling Straits where the event was held is not your average venue and the final hole of the final round of a major championship is a unique setting and situation.
Whistling Straits is a spectacular course set on the edge of Lake Michigan sculpted in the style of the great links courses of the British Isles. A shout out to my buddy Howie who played it recently and sent me the yardage book (best yardage book ever, seriously), which I referred to frequently as I watched the coverage over the weekend. While it's a dazzling layout, to me it loses points because it's not authentic, as that landscape was created by bulldozers and earth movers, not mother nature, a fact you could see whenever the camera shots from the Met Life blimp pulled back to reveal farmland on the neighboring property. My buddy CJ, aka Kid Philly, said it reminded him of a great course we used to play in Denver called Murphy Creek -- I agree.
One unique attribute of Whistling Straits is that it has, literally, countless bunkers. Some are huge and some are tiny, but they're everywhere, with an estimate of 1,200 across the property. Given that there were also 50,000 people attending the event, it's inevitable that fans ended up standing in or walking through many of the bunkers that were far removed from the fairways.
The PGA of America made the curious decision that the bunkers where fans walked through (outside the ropes, as it were) would still be played as hazards (meaning you can't ground the club), and not simply as waste areas, where players play the ball as it lies as they would in any other spot on the fairway or rough.
So when Dustin flared his drive on the 18th, he didn't realize that he was in a bunker. He was surrounded by thousands of fans, and while the ball was lying on sand, it was hard-packed, with footprints, wrappers and people all over it.
It never occurred to him that he was in a bunker so he followed his usual routine (usual for the last hole leading a major with 5,000 people surrounding him forming a tunnel the size of a bowling alley to hit through on his approach to the green) and grounded his club (though Dustin must have admitted to this, because I never saw that definitively on the replay).
As he walked off the green with a 5 (soon to be a 7), a PGA official grabbed him and gave him the news that there might be a problem -- understatement.
So here's my advice/comments in no particular order.
1) PGA, what were you thinking having the bunkers outside the ropes played as hazards? While I believe they were in good faith trying to preserve the integrity of Pete Dye's design, as they stated, I believe that decision was misguided and naive.
That would never, ever be done on any other course. You would either keep people out of the bunkers (impractical at WS) or play them as waste areas (better option -- no offense Pete).
When I say naive, I think that rule would have been fine for a practice round, but clearly the PGA had not thought through the circumstances of having so many people around (as you might, say, on the 18th hole of a major) that the bunker itself was not readily identifiable.
To its defense the PGA warned the players this would be the rule with its daily briefing sheets and this is where Dustin lost some sympathy points by confessing he never reads those. Hey, I don't read half my emails. Maybe they should text these alerts to the younger players.
Food for thought on the 2015 PGA and 2020 Ryder Cup, both scheduled to be held at WS: get rid of some of those bunkers and keep people out of them, or play them as waste areas.
2) Thanks Rules Official -- Not. Yes, Dustin had a rules official walking with his group, who I didn't realize until tonight actually had gone up to the spot in the "bunker".
The official said in an interview on golf channel he was focused on getting the crowd under control so Dustin could play his shot, but boy it would have been nice if he'd said before doing crowd control duty, "By the way, per the local rules sheet, you know you’re in a bunker, right?" He seems like a sincere guy and I kind of feel for him, though he stretched credulity with me when he said it never occurred to him that Dustin wouldn't realize he was in a bunker. I bet the cheeseheads who had been standing there for two hours didn't realize they were in a bunker as some thought they were at a Packers game.
I think in the unique situation of a major those rules officials need to be more proactive and even responsible. Yes, golf is great because players themselves enforce the rules, etc. etc. But, the PGA goes to the trouble of having a rules official with every group and roving uberofficials can be summoned as well, so it's not like they've completely handed the reins to the players.
Golf will never move to an officiating model like football -- where if the ref doesn't throw the flag, there's no penalty -- nor should it. But let's put some of the responsibility on them to monitor and control these situations to make the call before there are problems.
Oh, and when that rules official meets you at the green and tells says you "may be" be penalized (or DQ'd, or whatever the case may be) there's no "maybe" about it -- your (Retief) Goosen is cooked. Sometimes you catch the officials on the mikes, and they're empathetic and folksy, almost reassuring: "Let's just go in to the trailer and take a look at the TV replay." Bull -- the jury is in (or out?), and the verdict is signed, sealed, and delivered. They've made up they're mind and you're not leaving that trailer until you change your score to what they say it is.
3) The TV replay is not your friend. This is really a corollary to number 2 and while the TV replay was not instrumental in the Johnson situation, TV will always be used against you and not for you. Players have been penalized when TV viewers spotted something and called in, but it's never going to be used to bail you out.
A case in point is Dustin Johnson -- at Pebble Beach. As Dustin Johnson was melting down in the final round of the US Open, playing the 3rd hole, he hit his drive way left near the 16th green and went into a lateral hazard. There was nowhere else his ball could have been, but because no one saw the ball enter, it couldn't be assumed to be in the hazard. Thus instead of being able to take a drop at that spot, he had to declare a lost ball and go back to the tee.
Now, in this instance, the spot near the 16th hitting two would probably have not been much better than hitting three from the tee, and in the end of the day mattered little. But while I'm sure a TV replay could have been used to see if he'd grounded his club in the bunker or some such, they're not going to use a blimp shot to locate where the ball landed.
Going back to the situation at the PGA, it's interesting that when CBS used its golf trax gizmo to show where the ball landed, it actually indicated (correctly, it turns out) it was in a bunker, and I heard (but don't remember) Jim Nantz said the same thing. It's ironic because as soon as they showed the ball in the crowd, it looked like it was on a bare patch of dirt, and neither Nantz, Nick Faldo, or David Feherty suggested it was in the bunker.
So the lesson is while TV doesn't lie, it's not going to used to back your side of the story.
Conclusion:
It's too bad this PGA will be remembered for the Dustin Johnson saga, because it was a thrilling afternoon, with the likes of Steve Elkington, Rory McIlroy, and Zach Johnson all in the hunt, not to mention the great play of Martin Kaymer, the eventual champion who battled Bubba Watson in the playoff. And Dustin Johnson's own solid play may be forgotten too, as he exorcized the demons of his final round struggles at Pebble Beach.
Once the incident happened, the PGA got it right. Given the rules they'd set out, there was no choice but to penalize Johnson, but it seems like the PGA could have avoided the situation with a common sense course set up and more proactive officiating.
I'm not a proselytizing golfer -- other than the fact I don't want to see courses struggle financially, I'd rather see them less crowded than more. But it is too bad that on what could have been a day to showcase some of the best young players and the excitement of golf, the PGA had to defend its conduct of the championship. Upon review PGA of America, I'm afraid there may be a problem. "Let's just go in to the trailer and take a look . . . ."
On the 18th hole of the final round, with a one stroke lead, Dustin Johnson appeared to have just missed a putt for a scrambling par that would have secured him the title. Settling for bogey, he would still have a chance for victory in a 3-man, 3-hole playoff, or so he thought. Instead he was assessed a two stroke penalty for grounding his club in a bunker on his second shot, leaving him two strokes back and out of the playoff.
It was one of those instances where I'm sure casual fans said, "huh?" (or stronger) as the situation seemed unfair. It made a bit more sense to seasoned golf fans like me, but I think the situation could have been avoided. If you're still confused, I'll break it down for you and provide three keys to remember for both the PGA and players alike.
The PGA Championship is sponsored by the Professional Golfers Association of America, the club professionals who teach golf and run golf courses. The PGA's stated purpose is to grow the game of golf, which is ironic, since I can't imagine the conclusion Sunday made many new golf fans.
The rule that Dustin Johnson violated is pretty straightforward. All but the most hackneyed hackers know you can't ground a club (as in set on the ground) in a bunker or other hazard. The problem is that Whistling Straits where the event was held is not your average venue and the final hole of the final round of a major championship is a unique setting and situation.
Whistling Straits is a spectacular course set on the edge of Lake Michigan sculpted in the style of the great links courses of the British Isles. A shout out to my buddy Howie who played it recently and sent me the yardage book (best yardage book ever, seriously), which I referred to frequently as I watched the coverage over the weekend. While it's a dazzling layout, to me it loses points because it's not authentic, as that landscape was created by bulldozers and earth movers, not mother nature, a fact you could see whenever the camera shots from the Met Life blimp pulled back to reveal farmland on the neighboring property. My buddy CJ, aka Kid Philly, said it reminded him of a great course we used to play in Denver called Murphy Creek -- I agree.
One unique attribute of Whistling Straits is that it has, literally, countless bunkers. Some are huge and some are tiny, but they're everywhere, with an estimate of 1,200 across the property. Given that there were also 50,000 people attending the event, it's inevitable that fans ended up standing in or walking through many of the bunkers that were far removed from the fairways.
The PGA of America made the curious decision that the bunkers where fans walked through (outside the ropes, as it were) would still be played as hazards (meaning you can't ground the club), and not simply as waste areas, where players play the ball as it lies as they would in any other spot on the fairway or rough.
So when Dustin flared his drive on the 18th, he didn't realize that he was in a bunker. He was surrounded by thousands of fans, and while the ball was lying on sand, it was hard-packed, with footprints, wrappers and people all over it.
It never occurred to him that he was in a bunker so he followed his usual routine (usual for the last hole leading a major with 5,000 people surrounding him forming a tunnel the size of a bowling alley to hit through on his approach to the green) and grounded his club (though Dustin must have admitted to this, because I never saw that definitively on the replay).
As he walked off the green with a 5 (soon to be a 7), a PGA official grabbed him and gave him the news that there might be a problem -- understatement.
So here's my advice/comments in no particular order.
1) PGA, what were you thinking having the bunkers outside the ropes played as hazards? While I believe they were in good faith trying to preserve the integrity of Pete Dye's design, as they stated, I believe that decision was misguided and naive.
That would never, ever be done on any other course. You would either keep people out of the bunkers (impractical at WS) or play them as waste areas (better option -- no offense Pete).
When I say naive, I think that rule would have been fine for a practice round, but clearly the PGA had not thought through the circumstances of having so many people around (as you might, say, on the 18th hole of a major) that the bunker itself was not readily identifiable.
To its defense the PGA warned the players this would be the rule with its daily briefing sheets and this is where Dustin lost some sympathy points by confessing he never reads those. Hey, I don't read half my emails. Maybe they should text these alerts to the younger players.
Food for thought on the 2015 PGA and 2020 Ryder Cup, both scheduled to be held at WS: get rid of some of those bunkers and keep people out of them, or play them as waste areas.
2) Thanks Rules Official -- Not. Yes, Dustin had a rules official walking with his group, who I didn't realize until tonight actually had gone up to the spot in the "bunker".
The official said in an interview on golf channel he was focused on getting the crowd under control so Dustin could play his shot, but boy it would have been nice if he'd said before doing crowd control duty, "By the way, per the local rules sheet, you know you’re in a bunker, right?" He seems like a sincere guy and I kind of feel for him, though he stretched credulity with me when he said it never occurred to him that Dustin wouldn't realize he was in a bunker. I bet the cheeseheads who had been standing there for two hours didn't realize they were in a bunker as some thought they were at a Packers game.
I think in the unique situation of a major those rules officials need to be more proactive and even responsible. Yes, golf is great because players themselves enforce the rules, etc. etc. But, the PGA goes to the trouble of having a rules official with every group and roving uberofficials can be summoned as well, so it's not like they've completely handed the reins to the players.
Golf will never move to an officiating model like football -- where if the ref doesn't throw the flag, there's no penalty -- nor should it. But let's put some of the responsibility on them to monitor and control these situations to make the call before there are problems.
Oh, and when that rules official meets you at the green and tells says you "may be" be penalized (or DQ'd, or whatever the case may be) there's no "maybe" about it -- your (Retief) Goosen is cooked. Sometimes you catch the officials on the mikes, and they're empathetic and folksy, almost reassuring: "Let's just go in to the trailer and take a look at the TV replay." Bull -- the jury is in (or out?), and the verdict is signed, sealed, and delivered. They've made up they're mind and you're not leaving that trailer until you change your score to what they say it is.
3) The TV replay is not your friend. This is really a corollary to number 2 and while the TV replay was not instrumental in the Johnson situation, TV will always be used against you and not for you. Players have been penalized when TV viewers spotted something and called in, but it's never going to be used to bail you out.
A case in point is Dustin Johnson -- at Pebble Beach. As Dustin Johnson was melting down in the final round of the US Open, playing the 3rd hole, he hit his drive way left near the 16th green and went into a lateral hazard. There was nowhere else his ball could have been, but because no one saw the ball enter, it couldn't be assumed to be in the hazard. Thus instead of being able to take a drop at that spot, he had to declare a lost ball and go back to the tee.
Now, in this instance, the spot near the 16th hitting two would probably have not been much better than hitting three from the tee, and in the end of the day mattered little. But while I'm sure a TV replay could have been used to see if he'd grounded his club in the bunker or some such, they're not going to use a blimp shot to locate where the ball landed.
Going back to the situation at the PGA, it's interesting that when CBS used its golf trax gizmo to show where the ball landed, it actually indicated (correctly, it turns out) it was in a bunker, and I heard (but don't remember) Jim Nantz said the same thing. It's ironic because as soon as they showed the ball in the crowd, it looked like it was on a bare patch of dirt, and neither Nantz, Nick Faldo, or David Feherty suggested it was in the bunker.
So the lesson is while TV doesn't lie, it's not going to used to back your side of the story.
Conclusion:
It's too bad this PGA will be remembered for the Dustin Johnson saga, because it was a thrilling afternoon, with the likes of Steve Elkington, Rory McIlroy, and Zach Johnson all in the hunt, not to mention the great play of Martin Kaymer, the eventual champion who battled Bubba Watson in the playoff. And Dustin Johnson's own solid play may be forgotten too, as he exorcized the demons of his final round struggles at Pebble Beach.
Once the incident happened, the PGA got it right. Given the rules they'd set out, there was no choice but to penalize Johnson, but it seems like the PGA could have avoided the situation with a common sense course set up and more proactive officiating.
I'm not a proselytizing golfer -- other than the fact I don't want to see courses struggle financially, I'd rather see them less crowded than more. But it is too bad that on what could have been a day to showcase some of the best young players and the excitement of golf, the PGA had to defend its conduct of the championship. Upon review PGA of America, I'm afraid there may be a problem. "Let's just go in to the trailer and take a look . . . ."
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
A Good Walk (Un)Spoiled
"Golf is a good walk spoiled," is a famous quote attributed to Mark Twain, which is why it's ironic that last week I enjoyed a magnificant 9-hole walk at Soaring Eagles, a course located at Mark Twain State Park.
I was finishing up a long day of driving (about 400 miles) and meetings (three) all across New York having left the house before 6 am. It was about 12 hours later and I was a little more than an hour from Ithaca, my overnight destination. I figured I still had almost an hour and a half of daylight, plenty of time for a quick nine if I could find a course and the energy. So I pulled over in Corning, NY and googled my way to Soaring Eagles which is near Horseheads (not made up), NY, with the help of a very helpful pro shop attendant.
Though the signs directing to me to the course all said Mark Twain State Park, I didn't see much evidence of the park itself, but that was OK, I was there for the golf. It was a perfect set up as the course looked great, and was beginning to clear out on what was turning into a beautiful evening.
I couldn't see anyone on the first two holes so I teed off with two balls, and though a threesome in carts (I walked for both the exercise and the irony) started following me on the second hole, I was able keep ahead of them playing two balls all the way around.
It's not a flashy course, but I loved the layout. There are no major elevation changes but it is very rolling terrain with several holes on the front nine cut through the trees. And though a couple of them are tight, the accuracy required is balanced by the fact they're short.
The first two holes are fairly open with the main feature on the par-4 first being a green carved into a hill that slopes left to right, almost foreshadowing the rest of the nine. The second is par 4(tips)/5(members) that is open on the tee shot but where the terrain starts to roll as the landing area of the tee shot is a steep upslope. I was pleased to make four 5's with my two balls on the first two holes.
The third hole features a fairway that traverses two cross hatched hillsides, the first coming in from the left and followed by another cutting in from the right. By pushing my tee shot(s) right I had a blind shot to the green, but from the center or left side of the fairway it provides an unobstructed look into the green.
The fourth is an uninspired uphill par 3, but is a nice pallate cleanser for the next three holes, one of the nicest stretches of tree-lined holes I've played.
Five is a short par 4, not super tight with a very rolling fairway to a shallow elevated green. While rolling fairways are interesting visually, I'm not normally a fan, as they're tough to play, but they fit perfectly on this course. Five is a good example of where the rolling fairways work nicely, because assuming you can find the fairway on this 350 yard hole (which I didn't), you'll have a short approach to a green. Though the green is raised on a shelf and shallow in depth, it has no bunkers, so it's an important part of the hole's defense to have a downhill lie on the second shot.
The par 3 sixth is a postcard hole over an inlet of water from the left guarded by a huge tree (an oak, I think) on the right. The helpful woman in the pro shop referred to it as being down by the canal. I didn't see a canal, but to the left of the sixth beyond the trees marking the boundaries of the course was an open expanse of marsh and water with a highway (I assume I-86/Rt. 17 which I'd come in on) in the distance. A beautiful spot and in an evening of golf zen, it was a shakura (pretend zen word) moment.
Seven is another great short par-4 (328) that twists right to left through the trees with a pond guarding the far right side of the fairway. Even with two decent tee shots, I still don't know the right play, as my 4 hybrid tee shot which looked good off the face drifted too far right and my second shot was blocked from the right. I took driver on my second tee shot and cut as close as I could to the trees on the left guarding the corner of the dog leg. Without any draw to it, that shot went through the fairway on the right, though it was far enough to have an open look at the green.
I butchered the rest of seven and on the seventh green I had another tinge of disappointment as it provided a view of the back nine, which looked wide open, less mature and not nearly as interesting as the front. I'd like to go back sometime with the hope of proving myself wrong.
The eighth is the mirror image to seven playing as a dogleg right through a deep valley guarded by some tall trees at the dogleg and a pond (same one as on seven) on the right. I didn't hit enough club and had blind second shot(s) from down in the hollow. It's a short hole where you really need to hit driver and probably need to move it left to right. Almost as good as the previous three holes, the tee shot was partially blind which I didn't like.
At nine the course emerges from the trees as it's a sharp dogleg right giving the players options to play to the fairway to the left which is fairly open or try to carry the trees on the right for a shorter approach. Playing two balls, I played it both ways, and my first drive was a low bullet to the left, which actually went through the fairway and found a downhill sloping lie in the rough. My second shot was a big cut which cleared the trees not quite reaching the fairway, but provided a nice angle and a short shot into the green.
I muscled the first ball on the green and two-putted and with the bolder second ball I hit a wedge to four feet and made birdie. Not making worse than double (and I had a few) I had a 42 and 45 on the par 35, not bad given my recent form.
Once I made it to Ithaca, I topped off the evening at one of my favorite college haunts, the Nines for some deep dish pizza with my nephew Patrick, who's going to be a junior at Cornell.
But on the ride to Ithaca as I replayed my one hour twenty minute nine (actually 18) in my head I thought how my nine hole walk sure beat hitting the gerbil wheel at the hotel. Unexpectedly discovering a great new course like Soaring Eagles, and finishing with a birdie, made a for a good walk indeed.
I was finishing up a long day of driving (about 400 miles) and meetings (three) all across New York having left the house before 6 am. It was about 12 hours later and I was a little more than an hour from Ithaca, my overnight destination. I figured I still had almost an hour and a half of daylight, plenty of time for a quick nine if I could find a course and the energy. So I pulled over in Corning, NY and googled my way to Soaring Eagles which is near Horseheads (not made up), NY, with the help of a very helpful pro shop attendant.
Though the signs directing to me to the course all said Mark Twain State Park, I didn't see much evidence of the park itself, but that was OK, I was there for the golf. It was a perfect set up as the course looked great, and was beginning to clear out on what was turning into a beautiful evening.
I couldn't see anyone on the first two holes so I teed off with two balls, and though a threesome in carts (I walked for both the exercise and the irony) started following me on the second hole, I was able keep ahead of them playing two balls all the way around.
It's not a flashy course, but I loved the layout. There are no major elevation changes but it is very rolling terrain with several holes on the front nine cut through the trees. And though a couple of them are tight, the accuracy required is balanced by the fact they're short.
The first two holes are fairly open with the main feature on the par-4 first being a green carved into a hill that slopes left to right, almost foreshadowing the rest of the nine. The second is par 4(tips)/5(members) that is open on the tee shot but where the terrain starts to roll as the landing area of the tee shot is a steep upslope. I was pleased to make four 5's with my two balls on the first two holes.
The third hole features a fairway that traverses two cross hatched hillsides, the first coming in from the left and followed by another cutting in from the right. By pushing my tee shot(s) right I had a blind shot to the green, but from the center or left side of the fairway it provides an unobstructed look into the green.
The fourth is an uninspired uphill par 3, but is a nice pallate cleanser for the next three holes, one of the nicest stretches of tree-lined holes I've played.
Five is a short par 4, not super tight with a very rolling fairway to a shallow elevated green. While rolling fairways are interesting visually, I'm not normally a fan, as they're tough to play, but they fit perfectly on this course. Five is a good example of where the rolling fairways work nicely, because assuming you can find the fairway on this 350 yard hole (which I didn't), you'll have a short approach to a green. Though the green is raised on a shelf and shallow in depth, it has no bunkers, so it's an important part of the hole's defense to have a downhill lie on the second shot.
The par 3 sixth is a postcard hole over an inlet of water from the left guarded by a huge tree (an oak, I think) on the right. The helpful woman in the pro shop referred to it as being down by the canal. I didn't see a canal, but to the left of the sixth beyond the trees marking the boundaries of the course was an open expanse of marsh and water with a highway (I assume I-86/Rt. 17 which I'd come in on) in the distance. A beautiful spot and in an evening of golf zen, it was a shakura (pretend zen word) moment.
Seven is another great short par-4 (328) that twists right to left through the trees with a pond guarding the far right side of the fairway. Even with two decent tee shots, I still don't know the right play, as my 4 hybrid tee shot which looked good off the face drifted too far right and my second shot was blocked from the right. I took driver on my second tee shot and cut as close as I could to the trees on the left guarding the corner of the dog leg. Without any draw to it, that shot went through the fairway on the right, though it was far enough to have an open look at the green.
I butchered the rest of seven and on the seventh green I had another tinge of disappointment as it provided a view of the back nine, which looked wide open, less mature and not nearly as interesting as the front. I'd like to go back sometime with the hope of proving myself wrong.
The eighth is the mirror image to seven playing as a dogleg right through a deep valley guarded by some tall trees at the dogleg and a pond (same one as on seven) on the right. I didn't hit enough club and had blind second shot(s) from down in the hollow. It's a short hole where you really need to hit driver and probably need to move it left to right. Almost as good as the previous three holes, the tee shot was partially blind which I didn't like.
At nine the course emerges from the trees as it's a sharp dogleg right giving the players options to play to the fairway to the left which is fairly open or try to carry the trees on the right for a shorter approach. Playing two balls, I played it both ways, and my first drive was a low bullet to the left, which actually went through the fairway and found a downhill sloping lie in the rough. My second shot was a big cut which cleared the trees not quite reaching the fairway, but provided a nice angle and a short shot into the green.
I muscled the first ball on the green and two-putted and with the bolder second ball I hit a wedge to four feet and made birdie. Not making worse than double (and I had a few) I had a 42 and 45 on the par 35, not bad given my recent form.
Once I made it to Ithaca, I topped off the evening at one of my favorite college haunts, the Nines for some deep dish pizza with my nephew Patrick, who's going to be a junior at Cornell.
But on the ride to Ithaca as I replayed my one hour twenty minute nine (actually 18) in my head I thought how my nine hole walk sure beat hitting the gerbil wheel at the hotel. Unexpectedly discovering a great new course like Soaring Eagles, and finishing with a birdie, made a for a good walk indeed.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
A Day at the (Saratoga) Spa
This past Monday, my brother Jerry and I enjoyed a "spa" day, but not that kind of spa. For golfers like us, a weekday caper at the Saratoga Spa golf course was as relaxing as a full treatment of massage, mud and rose petals at the other kind of spa (says the guy who clearly has never been to the other kind of spa).
Located at the state park of the same name, Saratoga Spa Golf has two courses, an executive course, and the championship course we played. www.saratogaspagolf.com
I'd never played the course and had only been to the park itself once 20 years ago to attend a wedding reception at the Gideon Putnam resort hotel, which is also on the grounds. I'd forgotten what a spectacular location it is. Entering the park, you think you're entering a sprawling estate with grand and elegant buildings sprinkled throughout the towering pines.
The golf pro shop is set next to the Victoria Pool complex, not to be confused with your community pool, which usually doesn't have columns at the front entrance.
The course blends seamlessly with its gracious surroundings. Stylish and playable, the course also has its share of trouble in the form of large bunkers and alleys of pine trees guarding many of the greens and fairways. It has the feel of a Robert Trent Jones course, but it was actually designed by William Mitchell. I'll have to check their architectural lineages to see if there's some overlap.
We teed off on number ten, which doesn't allow the course to put its best foot forward, as it's a rather plain, straight par 4, but not a bad tune up. It's guarded in front by two bunkers but its main defense is a green which slopes sharply back to front. Ironically our whole foursome all navigated the challenging green nicely, and I snaked in the longest putt of the bunch, a twenty footer down hill for par, after taking a drop from the poison ivy on my second shot, which turned out to be a good break. After I saw the first few holes on the front, I could see why they start play on the 10th, but I'll get to the first nine in due time.
The 11th is much more indicative of the rest of the course. Though not surrounded by trees, it has a large green complex. Not all the greens are huge, but many of them are set in bowls or ringed by mounds and bordered by bunkers, though the bunkers tend to be set back from the putting surface. It helps give the course a spacious feel even though most of it is cut through the trees.
Twelve is a straight away par 5 with a gaping bunker bordering the front of the green, one of the few where a run up is not possible. The 13th and 14th are par 4's in opposite directions, both routed around large bunkers cutting into the left side of the fairway. Those large bunkers jutting into the fairways are one of those traits reminiscent of Trent Jones' courses like the one at Cornell.
Fifteen is a mid-length par 3 and the 16th is a sweeping dogleg right to a green which is more out in the open than most of those that precede it.
Seventeen is a long par 5 back into the trees, and the finishing hole is a stout one with large line of trees on the right. A sweeping dogleg left, the tee shot on the 18th is played to a plateau fairway set to the right which skirts a low area on the left. Our playing companions said the low area used to be a huge bunker, but a grass bunker is less punitive, easier to maintain, and more in keeping with the rest of the course.
Kudos to Jerry as he parred the 18th to nip me by one stroke on our first nine. I was 3 shots ahead coming to that hole so I’ll let you do the math on what I carded on the 18th.
The front nine starts with a long par 4 that is a gentle dogleg right around trees and a low valley of fescue. The second is an interesting par-3 with a large bunkerless green out in the open, its only defense a large shelf guarding the right half of the green which sits behind and below it.
Three and four are probably the most memorable holes on the course, with the 3rd being a shortish par 5, but with a large lake short of the elevated green requiring golfers to decide to lay up or go for it. Our affable playing partners (I say affable because one in particular was a good sport about helping Jerry and I track down our golf balls as we sprayed them all over the park) said the 1st used to be a par 5 and the 3rd used to be a par 4, which must have been a brute. Par 4 or 5, I felt fortunate to make a 5 on the 3rd.
Four is not a long dogleg right par 4, but requires a precise tee shot over water avoiding a bunker and a grove of trees on the right. The tee shot needs to be placed properly in order to have a clear shot over a creek to the green surrounded by fronted by two bunkers. I could see where these holes could cause a back up if play started on number 1.
Five is a straightaway par 4, and six is a long par 5 requiring players to navigate a number of bunkers to the get the right angle to the green for the third shot. Seven is another solid long par 4 and eight is mid-length par 3 carved seamlessly from the trees, with a green sloping severely from back left to front right.
I’d say the 8th is my favorite hole on the course but the fact I hit it to 12 feet and curled in a birdie has nothing (as in everything) to do with that assessment. With the nines switched, nine also serves as a solid finishing hole, a curving dogleg left around a fairway bunker to a green guarded right and left with large bunkers. On the strength of the birdie and three other pars, I carded a solid 42 on the front, our second nine, getting the better of Jerry by a few for the day.
At first glance some might argue the course doesn't require a lot of strategy, or lacks -- to use the overused, but ill-defined golf architectural term -- "shot values". I would disagree. The strategy of a hole like the 13th or 14th wouldn’t seem to be complex: there are large fairway bunkers on the left side of each fairway so you would do well to avoid them. But it's not that simple. On either hole you can lay up short of it, hit a fade (for a righty) to the open right side, try to carry it with raw power, or shape a draw beyond it. Which play you choose might depend on the best angle to the pin and on the 14th a shot on the right side will bring the right greenside bunker into play, whereas the beefier 13th has bunkers guarding both the right and left front. The same type of strategy comes into play on a hole like the par-5 sixth, as the difficulty of the third shot and how the greenside bunkers come into play will vary quite a bit depending on where the player lays up.
Of course those are the thoughts I imagine occupy the minds of expert players. For our first nine especially, I was just trying to keep it out of the trees (with limited success) and wasn't worried too much about the bunkers.
The course was in good shape for a public facility, especially the greens. The fairways were a bit ragged and the sand in the bunkers seemed packed down, but overall, it was in acceptable condition.
It reminded me of Bethpage State Park's Black course. For one, it's also at a state park and set on a large piece of property, so the holes are generously spaced. It has a classic old feel cut through the trees with many of the holes defined by its bunkering. And while not as evident as at Bethpage, the Spa also has many holes bordered by patches of fescue, as I can attest first hand.
Certainly Saratoga Spa doesn't have the scale and drama of the Black, where the ferocious bunkers are carved from a much more rollicking terrain. The Spa is not overly punitive (another contrast with the Black). There’s no tangly underbrush, so wayward drives can usually be found and result in a pitch out of some degree instead of a lost ball. The Spa is also very walkable with no major portages between holes and relatively flat terrain.
This may be a reach, but given its 7141 yards from the back tees, with the right conditioning, narrowing of the fairways, longish rough, and some speed on the slopey greens, I think this course could host a pro-level tournament.
Jerry and I enjoyed a sandwich and a beer at the Spa's version of the 19th hole, Catherines, which has a publike, men's grill feel to it. It has outside seating in the courtyard of Victoria pool, so you can pretend you're in Saratoga to watch your horses run instead of being a working stiff taking a day off. But whether you're rich and famous or a working stiff, whether you're there to play golf or enjoy the other kind of spa day, the genteel setting is well worth the trip.
Located at the state park of the same name, Saratoga Spa Golf has two courses, an executive course, and the championship course we played. www.saratogaspagolf.com
I'd never played the course and had only been to the park itself once 20 years ago to attend a wedding reception at the Gideon Putnam resort hotel, which is also on the grounds. I'd forgotten what a spectacular location it is. Entering the park, you think you're entering a sprawling estate with grand and elegant buildings sprinkled throughout the towering pines.
The golf pro shop is set next to the Victoria Pool complex, not to be confused with your community pool, which usually doesn't have columns at the front entrance.
The course blends seamlessly with its gracious surroundings. Stylish and playable, the course also has its share of trouble in the form of large bunkers and alleys of pine trees guarding many of the greens and fairways. It has the feel of a Robert Trent Jones course, but it was actually designed by William Mitchell. I'll have to check their architectural lineages to see if there's some overlap.
We teed off on number ten, which doesn't allow the course to put its best foot forward, as it's a rather plain, straight par 4, but not a bad tune up. It's guarded in front by two bunkers but its main defense is a green which slopes sharply back to front. Ironically our whole foursome all navigated the challenging green nicely, and I snaked in the longest putt of the bunch, a twenty footer down hill for par, after taking a drop from the poison ivy on my second shot, which turned out to be a good break. After I saw the first few holes on the front, I could see why they start play on the 10th, but I'll get to the first nine in due time.
The 11th is much more indicative of the rest of the course. Though not surrounded by trees, it has a large green complex. Not all the greens are huge, but many of them are set in bowls or ringed by mounds and bordered by bunkers, though the bunkers tend to be set back from the putting surface. It helps give the course a spacious feel even though most of it is cut through the trees.
Twelve is a straight away par 5 with a gaping bunker bordering the front of the green, one of the few where a run up is not possible. The 13th and 14th are par 4's in opposite directions, both routed around large bunkers cutting into the left side of the fairway. Those large bunkers jutting into the fairways are one of those traits reminiscent of Trent Jones' courses like the one at Cornell.
Fifteen is a mid-length par 3 and the 16th is a sweeping dogleg right to a green which is more out in the open than most of those that precede it.
Seventeen is a long par 5 back into the trees, and the finishing hole is a stout one with large line of trees on the right. A sweeping dogleg left, the tee shot on the 18th is played to a plateau fairway set to the right which skirts a low area on the left. Our playing companions said the low area used to be a huge bunker, but a grass bunker is less punitive, easier to maintain, and more in keeping with the rest of the course.
Kudos to Jerry as he parred the 18th to nip me by one stroke on our first nine. I was 3 shots ahead coming to that hole so I’ll let you do the math on what I carded on the 18th.
The front nine starts with a long par 4 that is a gentle dogleg right around trees and a low valley of fescue. The second is an interesting par-3 with a large bunkerless green out in the open, its only defense a large shelf guarding the right half of the green which sits behind and below it.
Three and four are probably the most memorable holes on the course, with the 3rd being a shortish par 5, but with a large lake short of the elevated green requiring golfers to decide to lay up or go for it. Our affable playing partners (I say affable because one in particular was a good sport about helping Jerry and I track down our golf balls as we sprayed them all over the park) said the 1st used to be a par 5 and the 3rd used to be a par 4, which must have been a brute. Par 4 or 5, I felt fortunate to make a 5 on the 3rd.
Four is not a long dogleg right par 4, but requires a precise tee shot over water avoiding a bunker and a grove of trees on the right. The tee shot needs to be placed properly in order to have a clear shot over a creek to the green surrounded by fronted by two bunkers. I could see where these holes could cause a back up if play started on number 1.
Five is a straightaway par 4, and six is a long par 5 requiring players to navigate a number of bunkers to the get the right angle to the green for the third shot. Seven is another solid long par 4 and eight is mid-length par 3 carved seamlessly from the trees, with a green sloping severely from back left to front right.
I’d say the 8th is my favorite hole on the course but the fact I hit it to 12 feet and curled in a birdie has nothing (as in everything) to do with that assessment. With the nines switched, nine also serves as a solid finishing hole, a curving dogleg left around a fairway bunker to a green guarded right and left with large bunkers. On the strength of the birdie and three other pars, I carded a solid 42 on the front, our second nine, getting the better of Jerry by a few for the day.
At first glance some might argue the course doesn't require a lot of strategy, or lacks -- to use the overused, but ill-defined golf architectural term -- "shot values". I would disagree. The strategy of a hole like the 13th or 14th wouldn’t seem to be complex: there are large fairway bunkers on the left side of each fairway so you would do well to avoid them. But it's not that simple. On either hole you can lay up short of it, hit a fade (for a righty) to the open right side, try to carry it with raw power, or shape a draw beyond it. Which play you choose might depend on the best angle to the pin and on the 14th a shot on the right side will bring the right greenside bunker into play, whereas the beefier 13th has bunkers guarding both the right and left front. The same type of strategy comes into play on a hole like the par-5 sixth, as the difficulty of the third shot and how the greenside bunkers come into play will vary quite a bit depending on where the player lays up.
Of course those are the thoughts I imagine occupy the minds of expert players. For our first nine especially, I was just trying to keep it out of the trees (with limited success) and wasn't worried too much about the bunkers.
The course was in good shape for a public facility, especially the greens. The fairways were a bit ragged and the sand in the bunkers seemed packed down, but overall, it was in acceptable condition.
It reminded me of Bethpage State Park's Black course. For one, it's also at a state park and set on a large piece of property, so the holes are generously spaced. It has a classic old feel cut through the trees with many of the holes defined by its bunkering. And while not as evident as at Bethpage, the Spa also has many holes bordered by patches of fescue, as I can attest first hand.
Certainly Saratoga Spa doesn't have the scale and drama of the Black, where the ferocious bunkers are carved from a much more rollicking terrain. The Spa is not overly punitive (another contrast with the Black). There’s no tangly underbrush, so wayward drives can usually be found and result in a pitch out of some degree instead of a lost ball. The Spa is also very walkable with no major portages between holes and relatively flat terrain.
This may be a reach, but given its 7141 yards from the back tees, with the right conditioning, narrowing of the fairways, longish rough, and some speed on the slopey greens, I think this course could host a pro-level tournament.
Jerry and I enjoyed a sandwich and a beer at the Spa's version of the 19th hole, Catherines, which has a publike, men's grill feel to it. It has outside seating in the courtyard of Victoria pool, so you can pretend you're in Saratoga to watch your horses run instead of being a working stiff taking a day off. But whether you're rich and famous or a working stiff, whether you're there to play golf or enjoy the other kind of spa day, the genteel setting is well worth the trip.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Turning Back the Clock at the Calvin
[Keeping with the big tent nature of this golf blog, the following is a musical interlude.]
Sitting in the sixth row of the Calvin Theater in Northampton on June 25th, I was almost brought to tears early in Mary Chapin Carpenter's first set. It was a mixture of emotions as MCC was returning to tour with a new album, "The Age of Miracles" after suffering a pulmonary embolism three years ago just before she was about to go on tour for her last album.
After she'd played a couple of songs from her new album and brought out a few of the old favorites, it struck me of what a body of work she has compiled. The first few bars of each song were always familiar, but I usually didn't recognize the tune right away because I know so many of her songs -- at least a half dozen albums' worth. As the set continued I kept thinking that I couldn't wait to pull out every one of her albums and listen to each one. In the weeks since the concert I've been doing just that.
As is the case with many of my musical interests, my introduction to MCC in the early 90s was courtesy of my brother Jerry. He often commented that her songs are really more like poetry set to music and I was immediately captivated by her soulfulness which comes through equally well in her soft ballads as her raucus anthems, a versatility that showed fine form at the Calvin.
The introduction to MCC came during my days in Washington, and I began to listen to her almost exclusively, buying each album as soon as it came out. I remember one night at a bar playing a song of hers on the jukebox -- my roommates and girlfriend (Jen) were incredulous given that I listened to her nonstop at home. I darn near wore out "Come On Come On" and "Shooting Straight in the Dark," the first two albums I owned.
My sister Kathleen was also a fan and was concerned what would happen if she gained widespread popularity. Kathleen needn't have been worried. Though MCC won grammys and had a number of cross over country/folk/pop hits, and has maintained a dedicated following as the audience in Northampton showed, her popularity faded in the 1990s.
As her mainstream popularity waned, I stopped listening to her as often too, and I'm not exactly sure why. It certainly wasn't because she wasn't as "popular" -- I suppose my musical tastes changed.
I could also blame Jerry. I've never been one to have a constant soundtrack to my life. Though I enjoy a wide variety of music, I don't have an ipod. I'm sort of monagamous when it comes to a primary musical interest and somewhere about ten years ago, Jerry introduced me to Alison Krauss who became my "steady" musical interest.
Though I'd strayed, I continued to buy all MCC's albums, and Jen and I went to see her in July 2001 at the Fillmore Theater in Denver on her "Time Sex Love" tour. I just didn't listen to the newer albums (or the older ones) nearly as often.
I think there's another reason that I stopped listening to her as much. Her music, especially her older works, was a connection to a distinct time in my life. It provided instant passage to my DC days, working in the Senate, partying with the DC crew, planning for grad school and life after, my courtship with Jen and the loss of my Mom, all rolled into one. I actually sent MCC the only fan letter I've ever written, about how her music helped me through the time of my Mom's illness and in the months after she died. I found then, as I do now, that although some of her songs are filled with sadness and regret, there's an underlying resilience that brought me strength.
Though it was filled with its share of heartache, my time in DC was special. As I moved on to get my MBA in Chapel Hill and then to Denver, I missed DC and its top of the world feeling, even though I knew I needed separation from it. Alison Krauss and her sweet bluegrass harmonies were a convenient way to move on.
Many of these thoughts were swirling in my head as I basked in the music that night, and I wish I'd gotten around to writing some of them down sooner. I'm concerned some of the profound insights have dulled with the passage of the last few weeks, though I've kept many of them going as I've made my way CD by CD through the MCC music library.
I sat next to a builder from Shutesbury, a nice guy named Tom who's neighbor was in the band. The warm up act was a very young artist named Cara Salimando with a smokey voice. Her songs were sweet, and I'm sure her music will gain new depth once she's been seasoned by life a bit more. MCC looked good and though her voice was maybe not quite as strong on the higher notes as I remember, it has even more depth and richness that infuses the words with the particular emotion of each song. I can't do any better describing the scene or the music than Kevin O'Hare of the Republican did in his review. http://www.masslive.com/entertainment/index.ssf/2010/06/mary_chapin_carpenters_comebac.html
Going to the concert was like finally putting aside the time to catch up with a dear friend. One of those things you never get around to, but can be so rewarding when you do.
Right after my time in DC, it felt a little tender to revisit MCC's music, but it felt right that night at the Calvin. Once I got over the initial shock of how long ago that was, and how much had happened in the intervening years, both feelings brought satisfaction instead of angst. It was satisfying to look back and at those days and the good run since. I got the sense MCC might have been thinking the same thing on stage that night.
Sitting in the sixth row of the Calvin Theater in Northampton on June 25th, I was almost brought to tears early in Mary Chapin Carpenter's first set. It was a mixture of emotions as MCC was returning to tour with a new album, "The Age of Miracles" after suffering a pulmonary embolism three years ago just before she was about to go on tour for her last album.
After she'd played a couple of songs from her new album and brought out a few of the old favorites, it struck me of what a body of work she has compiled. The first few bars of each song were always familiar, but I usually didn't recognize the tune right away because I know so many of her songs -- at least a half dozen albums' worth. As the set continued I kept thinking that I couldn't wait to pull out every one of her albums and listen to each one. In the weeks since the concert I've been doing just that.
As is the case with many of my musical interests, my introduction to MCC in the early 90s was courtesy of my brother Jerry. He often commented that her songs are really more like poetry set to music and I was immediately captivated by her soulfulness which comes through equally well in her soft ballads as her raucus anthems, a versatility that showed fine form at the Calvin.
The introduction to MCC came during my days in Washington, and I began to listen to her almost exclusively, buying each album as soon as it came out. I remember one night at a bar playing a song of hers on the jukebox -- my roommates and girlfriend (Jen) were incredulous given that I listened to her nonstop at home. I darn near wore out "Come On Come On" and "Shooting Straight in the Dark," the first two albums I owned.
My sister Kathleen was also a fan and was concerned what would happen if she gained widespread popularity. Kathleen needn't have been worried. Though MCC won grammys and had a number of cross over country/folk/pop hits, and has maintained a dedicated following as the audience in Northampton showed, her popularity faded in the 1990s.
As her mainstream popularity waned, I stopped listening to her as often too, and I'm not exactly sure why. It certainly wasn't because she wasn't as "popular" -- I suppose my musical tastes changed.
I could also blame Jerry. I've never been one to have a constant soundtrack to my life. Though I enjoy a wide variety of music, I don't have an ipod. I'm sort of monagamous when it comes to a primary musical interest and somewhere about ten years ago, Jerry introduced me to Alison Krauss who became my "steady" musical interest.
Though I'd strayed, I continued to buy all MCC's albums, and Jen and I went to see her in July 2001 at the Fillmore Theater in Denver on her "Time Sex Love" tour. I just didn't listen to the newer albums (or the older ones) nearly as often.
I think there's another reason that I stopped listening to her as much. Her music, especially her older works, was a connection to a distinct time in my life. It provided instant passage to my DC days, working in the Senate, partying with the DC crew, planning for grad school and life after, my courtship with Jen and the loss of my Mom, all rolled into one. I actually sent MCC the only fan letter I've ever written, about how her music helped me through the time of my Mom's illness and in the months after she died. I found then, as I do now, that although some of her songs are filled with sadness and regret, there's an underlying resilience that brought me strength.
Though it was filled with its share of heartache, my time in DC was special. As I moved on to get my MBA in Chapel Hill and then to Denver, I missed DC and its top of the world feeling, even though I knew I needed separation from it. Alison Krauss and her sweet bluegrass harmonies were a convenient way to move on.
Many of these thoughts were swirling in my head as I basked in the music that night, and I wish I'd gotten around to writing some of them down sooner. I'm concerned some of the profound insights have dulled with the passage of the last few weeks, though I've kept many of them going as I've made my way CD by CD through the MCC music library.
I sat next to a builder from Shutesbury, a nice guy named Tom who's neighbor was in the band. The warm up act was a very young artist named Cara Salimando with a smokey voice. Her songs were sweet, and I'm sure her music will gain new depth once she's been seasoned by life a bit more. MCC looked good and though her voice was maybe not quite as strong on the higher notes as I remember, it has even more depth and richness that infuses the words with the particular emotion of each song. I can't do any better describing the scene or the music than Kevin O'Hare of the Republican did in his review. http://www.masslive.com/entertainment/index.ssf/2010/06/mary_chapin_carpenters_comebac.html
Going to the concert was like finally putting aside the time to catch up with a dear friend. One of those things you never get around to, but can be so rewarding when you do.
Right after my time in DC, it felt a little tender to revisit MCC's music, but it felt right that night at the Calvin. Once I got over the initial shock of how long ago that was, and how much had happened in the intervening years, both feelings brought satisfaction instead of angst. It was satisfying to look back and at those days and the good run since. I got the sense MCC might have been thinking the same thing on stage that night.
Monday, May 24, 2010
I'm On A Boat
Over the last three years when I’ve had occasion to travel to Long Island for work, I usually take a ferry across the Long Island Sound. Depending on where you’re going on the island, it doesn’t save a lot of time (though it could if there’s heavy traffic around the city), and it’s expensive, but it’s so much more civilized than battling your way down I-95 and over one of the bridges. It’s also fun because I can invoke SNL’s Adam Samberg’s profanity-laced music video parody called – “I’m On A Boat.”
So Sunday morning I boarded a 9 am ferry across the Long Island Sound, headed for Stony Brook University and the NCAA men’s lacrosse quarterfinals. The ferry ride was a bit more raucous than usual, as many of the cars on board carried lacrosse stickers and fans of each of the four schools competing at Stony Brook.
I actually hadn’t planned to attend as I was a bit weary from chasing the Big Red hockey and basketball teams around the Northeast earlier this spring. But as luck and timing would have it, I was due to speak at a conference on Long Island Monday morning, and the start time made coming in the night before advisable. So once I realized Cornell’s quarterfinal game would be on Long Island the day before the conference, I didn’t have twist my own arm too hard to make plans to come down early enough Sunday to catch the game. Jen is a good sport about my taking off for Big Red adventures – I suppose she figures I could have worse vices.
I jumped on getting the tickets as soon as Cornell put them on sale. It turned out to be a tough ticket to get as host Stony Brook was playing top-ranked Virginia in the second half of the quarterfinal double header.
Cornell was facing Army, an upset winner over second-seeded, and Cornell nemesis, Syracuse last weekend. Cornell gained its berth in the quarters by beating Loyala (MD). As has become their form this year, the Big Red lost a big lead surging ahead 9-2 and then hanging on for an 11-10 triple overtime victory, with a long stick defenseman scoring his first career goal for the win.
Army had an impressive win versus Syracuse, rallying from three behind in the second half to win in double overtime. Syracuse rarely loses in general and hardly ever at home, especially in the NCAAs where they had an 8 game winning streak by virtue of having won the last two national championships. It was a huge win for the Army team, which hadn’t won an NCAA game since 1993 when my good-natured neighbor Todd Butler was a senior.
In fact, Todd’s own special forces (his kids are 7, 5 and 4) launched a “spirit mission” against our household the Friday before the game, leaving a poster on our front door and hanging signs on our side of the fence that divides our yards which read “Go Army” and “Beat Cornell”. My 5-year old son Will and I tried to retaliate, but pressed for time and outnumbered, our response was hardly proportional. But as they left for a family trip Saturday morning, the Butlers found a placard on their windshield which said, “Go Big Red” and “Beat Army.”
Todd was also at the game with some of his fellow Army lax alumni. I stopped by during the game to say hello to him, but made it a brief visit, as my all red attire wouldn’t gain me any favor with Todd’s Army buddies. I had my own mini posse, as I met up with Farm Credit colleagues Steve Weir and Pat Wiles from our Riverhead, NY branch, at what seemed to be an ad hoc alumni gathering before the game.
The game itself was not particularly memorable. I’ll just say that after sweating out a number of close Cornell wins and losses these last few weeks, I was ecstatic that Cornell won by 9. It was a tough game for the Army faithful – as the Big Red seemed to execute well on offense and play tough, stifling “D.” Given Cornell has let teams back into a number of games recently, I didn’t rest easy until well into the fourth quarter.
After catching some of the post-game Cornell party, I went back in to check out Virginia – Stony Brook, the second game of the double header. UVa Stony Brook turned out to be the afternoon’s more exciting game from a spectator’s perspective. Virginia would typically have been a huge favorite, if not for the fact they were playing a solid Stony Brook team on its home field and the off-field troubles facing the team, with one of the Virginia players facing a murder charge in the death of a UVa women’s lacrosse player.
UVa took a 5-3 halftime lead, but Stony Brook had kept them within range and early in the third quarter, the Seawolves came back to tie the game at 5. One key for Virginia was that every time Stony Brook would tie the game – as they did at 5, 7 and 8 -- Virginia had an answer, thwarting Stony Brook from ever taking the lead. UVa’s biggest goal may have been when they scored on a breakout off the face off after Stony Brook had tied the game at 8.
The two face off specialists were unbelievable, almost every time grinding away at each other spinning slowly on the ground with their sticks and heads interlocked. In one of the face offs it took almost a minute for the ball to spring free, when it usually only takes a few seconds.
UVa extended the lead to 10-8, but Stony Brook got within one with a few minutes remaining. While they did get off one shot which could have tied the game, the UVa goalie came up with a big save and the Cavaliers were able to kill the clock and preserve the victory.
UVA will face Duke in an all ACC semifinal, while the Big Red will play Notre Dame, an upset winner over third-seeded Maryland.
I won’t be making the trip to Baltimore for the final four over Memorial Day, though of course, I’d be tempted. I’ve been on the road plenty of late and we’ll be heading to a family get together this Sunday, plus there’s no way I can work in a ferry ride to Baltimore, though come to think of it, M&T Stadium isn’t too far from Baltimore’s inner harbor area . . . no, never mind, I’m staying put.
It’s Monday afternoon on the way back from the conference and my return ferry is pulling into the dock. It’s time to return below deck to my car and rejoin the battle on Connecticut’s highways. With the semifinals on Saturday and the finals on Memorial Day, here’s hoping next Monday afternoon I’ll be glued to my TV watching the Big Red battle for the national championship. Go Big Red!
“I’m king of the world on the boat like Leo, if you all on the shore, then you sho’ ain’t me-o.” SNL Digital Short – “I’m On A Boat.”
So Sunday morning I boarded a 9 am ferry across the Long Island Sound, headed for Stony Brook University and the NCAA men’s lacrosse quarterfinals. The ferry ride was a bit more raucous than usual, as many of the cars on board carried lacrosse stickers and fans of each of the four schools competing at Stony Brook.
I actually hadn’t planned to attend as I was a bit weary from chasing the Big Red hockey and basketball teams around the Northeast earlier this spring. But as luck and timing would have it, I was due to speak at a conference on Long Island Monday morning, and the start time made coming in the night before advisable. So once I realized Cornell’s quarterfinal game would be on Long Island the day before the conference, I didn’t have twist my own arm too hard to make plans to come down early enough Sunday to catch the game. Jen is a good sport about my taking off for Big Red adventures – I suppose she figures I could have worse vices.
I jumped on getting the tickets as soon as Cornell put them on sale. It turned out to be a tough ticket to get as host Stony Brook was playing top-ranked Virginia in the second half of the quarterfinal double header.
Cornell was facing Army, an upset winner over second-seeded, and Cornell nemesis, Syracuse last weekend. Cornell gained its berth in the quarters by beating Loyala (MD). As has become their form this year, the Big Red lost a big lead surging ahead 9-2 and then hanging on for an 11-10 triple overtime victory, with a long stick defenseman scoring his first career goal for the win.
Army had an impressive win versus Syracuse, rallying from three behind in the second half to win in double overtime. Syracuse rarely loses in general and hardly ever at home, especially in the NCAAs where they had an 8 game winning streak by virtue of having won the last two national championships. It was a huge win for the Army team, which hadn’t won an NCAA game since 1993 when my good-natured neighbor Todd Butler was a senior.
In fact, Todd’s own special forces (his kids are 7, 5 and 4) launched a “spirit mission” against our household the Friday before the game, leaving a poster on our front door and hanging signs on our side of the fence that divides our yards which read “Go Army” and “Beat Cornell”. My 5-year old son Will and I tried to retaliate, but pressed for time and outnumbered, our response was hardly proportional. But as they left for a family trip Saturday morning, the Butlers found a placard on their windshield which said, “Go Big Red” and “Beat Army.”
Todd was also at the game with some of his fellow Army lax alumni. I stopped by during the game to say hello to him, but made it a brief visit, as my all red attire wouldn’t gain me any favor with Todd’s Army buddies. I had my own mini posse, as I met up with Farm Credit colleagues Steve Weir and Pat Wiles from our Riverhead, NY branch, at what seemed to be an ad hoc alumni gathering before the game.
The game itself was not particularly memorable. I’ll just say that after sweating out a number of close Cornell wins and losses these last few weeks, I was ecstatic that Cornell won by 9. It was a tough game for the Army faithful – as the Big Red seemed to execute well on offense and play tough, stifling “D.” Given Cornell has let teams back into a number of games recently, I didn’t rest easy until well into the fourth quarter.
After catching some of the post-game Cornell party, I went back in to check out Virginia – Stony Brook, the second game of the double header. UVa Stony Brook turned out to be the afternoon’s more exciting game from a spectator’s perspective. Virginia would typically have been a huge favorite, if not for the fact they were playing a solid Stony Brook team on its home field and the off-field troubles facing the team, with one of the Virginia players facing a murder charge in the death of a UVa women’s lacrosse player.
UVa took a 5-3 halftime lead, but Stony Brook had kept them within range and early in the third quarter, the Seawolves came back to tie the game at 5. One key for Virginia was that every time Stony Brook would tie the game – as they did at 5, 7 and 8 -- Virginia had an answer, thwarting Stony Brook from ever taking the lead. UVa’s biggest goal may have been when they scored on a breakout off the face off after Stony Brook had tied the game at 8.
The two face off specialists were unbelievable, almost every time grinding away at each other spinning slowly on the ground with their sticks and heads interlocked. In one of the face offs it took almost a minute for the ball to spring free, when it usually only takes a few seconds.
UVa extended the lead to 10-8, but Stony Brook got within one with a few minutes remaining. While they did get off one shot which could have tied the game, the UVa goalie came up with a big save and the Cavaliers were able to kill the clock and preserve the victory.
UVA will face Duke in an all ACC semifinal, while the Big Red will play Notre Dame, an upset winner over third-seeded Maryland.
I won’t be making the trip to Baltimore for the final four over Memorial Day, though of course, I’d be tempted. I’ve been on the road plenty of late and we’ll be heading to a family get together this Sunday, plus there’s no way I can work in a ferry ride to Baltimore, though come to think of it, M&T Stadium isn’t too far from Baltimore’s inner harbor area . . . no, never mind, I’m staying put.
It’s Monday afternoon on the way back from the conference and my return ferry is pulling into the dock. It’s time to return below deck to my car and rejoin the battle on Connecticut’s highways. With the semifinals on Saturday and the finals on Memorial Day, here’s hoping next Monday afternoon I’ll be glued to my TV watching the Big Red battle for the national championship. Go Big Red!
“I’m king of the world on the boat like Leo, if you all on the shore, then you sho’ ain’t me-o.” SNL Digital Short – “I’m On A Boat.”
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Ninth hole at Sandstone Hollow
For the last 20 years, my brother Peter has hosted a weekend get together around his August 23rd birthday. The agenda consists of a crew heading to Saratoga for the Travers Stakes on Saturday followed by a Sunday golf outing at Capital Hills, Albany's municipal course.
In addition to some of his high school, college and Albany friends, many family members have played in the golf tourney over the years, including our brother Jerry and our father, an avid golfer who passed away in December 2008.
Peter emcees the start of the golf outing, announcing all the players before they tee off. As he kicked off the tournament this past August, it hadn't occurred to me that this would be the first Bushwood Open (named for the course in the movie Caddyshack) since Dad had died.
So before he introduced the first foursome he pointed to a lone golf ball on a tee, a Titleist So-Lo, a ball which Dad often played, and asked for a moment of silence which was followed by a round of applause.
It was a nice touch and a way to remember Dad with his crew, several of whom had attended the services, but some who had not. And I'm sure like me, Peter often thinks of Dad when he plays golf, and especially kicking off his annual tournament, which Dad had played a number of times. That day on the first tee of Capital Hills came to mind today in an unexpected way, as I reenacted the last round Jerry, Peter and I played with Dad, on Father's Day 2008.
Earlier that spring, we'd managed to pull together a scaled down version of the golf trip we'd taken every year for about 15 years. Scaled down because Dad was in rough shape from the surgery, radiation and chemo he'd had in his battle with cancer. Though we didn't acknowledge it at the time, we knew it would probably be the last one.
Father's Day was another traditional outing for the four of us, and here again, that sunny June Sunday, we knew it could be the last. Dad's golf had been scaled way back (too bad because he enjoyed it so much and was about a 12 handicap into his 80s prior to his surgery in the fall of 2007) , so we played Sandstone Hollow, a nicely appointed par-3 course at the Turning Stone resort in Verona, NY.
I honestly don't recall much about the round (though I know I played poorly), except for the last hole. Having had many of his left shoulder muscles removed during his surgery, Dad had to play a kind of modified half swing. And though he lacked power, he'd figured out how to make solid contact on a number of shots, though bogey was the best he'd managed on any hole. On the ninth, which played about 120 yards, he hit a low lining fade that ended up on the back edge of the two-tiered green.
He left his first putt from off the green about five feet above the hole, the kind of twisting putt we'd seen Dad miss more times than we'd care to recount. But on that day, Dad managed to curl it in for his only par of the day, on the last hole he ever played.
During what turned out to be the toughest of years, that was a nice memory, one I recalled in the eulogy I gave at Dad's funeral. I omitted from the eulogy that Jerry and Peter also made par on that hole, but I was the odd man out having to settle for bogey after a power lip out.
And maybe the fact I made the only bogey in our foursome was on my mind today, en route to the Syracuse area where I'm staying tonight.
It was 6:15 when I was approaching the Verona exit and if it was open, I figured I could squeeze in a quick nine at Sandstone Hollow before dark. I've struggled so far this year the few times I've played, though I'd had a solid nine just the other night. I think I've figured something out with my swing and wanted to see if it was going to stick. It was turning into a beautiful evening and decided at the very least a stroll around Sandstone Hollow would beat checking email at the hotel.
I wheeled off the Thruway and paid my greens fees. Another time I'll write more about Sandstone Hollow, which is beautifully sculpted from rugged meadows and marshy forestland. Designed by Rick Smith it's one of the top 25 par-3 courses in the U.S. It was not as in nice shape tonight as it has been in the past . They had recently aerated it, though instead of taking out plugs the greens had been carved into small diamonds with narrow furrows. The bunker sand was a little rocky too, but nonetheless, it was fine for my purposes.
There was a foursome a few holes ahead so I played two balls in order to not come upon them too quickly, plus I can use all the practice I can get. After a rocky start I played pretty well and even managed to make a birdie on the sixth almost jarring it on the fly, ending up a mere two feet away.
The sun was low in the sky as I reached the ninth, and I was determined to make par. I pulled the first shot left of the green, not a bad leave but not an automatic up and down given my short game. The second tee shot was a little skinny, but turned out well, ending up about 25 feet past the pin. I wanted to stack the odds in my favor, so I pulled a third ball out of my pocket and struck it nicely, leaving it about 20 feet left of the pin. Three shots at par -- I liked my chances.
Though pin high without any trouble to carry, my first ball had found a messy lie in the rough, which I muscled out to about 15 feet. The second ball had landed further away than I thought from the tee, and though I hit a solid putt, it had sailed about four feet past. I really didn't want to rely on that third tee shot to make par.
I missed the 15 footer of the one I chipped from off the green, so I walked up confidently to the four footer and poured it in.
Par in hand, I went to pick up the third ball, when I noticed something that hadn't caught my attention before. Though I usually play Bridgestone, that third ball was a Titleist So-Lo, and immediately, I thought of Peter's tribute last August.
The sun had just about dipped below the horizon, so I decided to leave it there, a temporary momento in honor of Dad. And though I had to play three tee shots, I was glad I'd finally gotten my par, and left a good chance at birdie for Dad.
In addition to some of his high school, college and Albany friends, many family members have played in the golf tourney over the years, including our brother Jerry and our father, an avid golfer who passed away in December 2008.
Peter emcees the start of the golf outing, announcing all the players before they tee off. As he kicked off the tournament this past August, it hadn't occurred to me that this would be the first Bushwood Open (named for the course in the movie Caddyshack) since Dad had died.
So before he introduced the first foursome he pointed to a lone golf ball on a tee, a Titleist So-Lo, a ball which Dad often played, and asked for a moment of silence which was followed by a round of applause.
It was a nice touch and a way to remember Dad with his crew, several of whom had attended the services, but some who had not. And I'm sure like me, Peter often thinks of Dad when he plays golf, and especially kicking off his annual tournament, which Dad had played a number of times. That day on the first tee of Capital Hills came to mind today in an unexpected way, as I reenacted the last round Jerry, Peter and I played with Dad, on Father's Day 2008.
Earlier that spring, we'd managed to pull together a scaled down version of the golf trip we'd taken every year for about 15 years. Scaled down because Dad was in rough shape from the surgery, radiation and chemo he'd had in his battle with cancer. Though we didn't acknowledge it at the time, we knew it would probably be the last one.
Father's Day was another traditional outing for the four of us, and here again, that sunny June Sunday, we knew it could be the last. Dad's golf had been scaled way back (too bad because he enjoyed it so much and was about a 12 handicap into his 80s prior to his surgery in the fall of 2007) , so we played Sandstone Hollow, a nicely appointed par-3 course at the Turning Stone resort in Verona, NY.
I honestly don't recall much about the round (though I know I played poorly), except for the last hole. Having had many of his left shoulder muscles removed during his surgery, Dad had to play a kind of modified half swing. And though he lacked power, he'd figured out how to make solid contact on a number of shots, though bogey was the best he'd managed on any hole. On the ninth, which played about 120 yards, he hit a low lining fade that ended up on the back edge of the two-tiered green.
He left his first putt from off the green about five feet above the hole, the kind of twisting putt we'd seen Dad miss more times than we'd care to recount. But on that day, Dad managed to curl it in for his only par of the day, on the last hole he ever played.
During what turned out to be the toughest of years, that was a nice memory, one I recalled in the eulogy I gave at Dad's funeral. I omitted from the eulogy that Jerry and Peter also made par on that hole, but I was the odd man out having to settle for bogey after a power lip out.
And maybe the fact I made the only bogey in our foursome was on my mind today, en route to the Syracuse area where I'm staying tonight.
It was 6:15 when I was approaching the Verona exit and if it was open, I figured I could squeeze in a quick nine at Sandstone Hollow before dark. I've struggled so far this year the few times I've played, though I'd had a solid nine just the other night. I think I've figured something out with my swing and wanted to see if it was going to stick. It was turning into a beautiful evening and decided at the very least a stroll around Sandstone Hollow would beat checking email at the hotel.
I wheeled off the Thruway and paid my greens fees. Another time I'll write more about Sandstone Hollow, which is beautifully sculpted from rugged meadows and marshy forestland. Designed by Rick Smith it's one of the top 25 par-3 courses in the U.S. It was not as in nice shape tonight as it has been in the past . They had recently aerated it, though instead of taking out plugs the greens had been carved into small diamonds with narrow furrows. The bunker sand was a little rocky too, but nonetheless, it was fine for my purposes.
There was a foursome a few holes ahead so I played two balls in order to not come upon them too quickly, plus I can use all the practice I can get. After a rocky start I played pretty well and even managed to make a birdie on the sixth almost jarring it on the fly, ending up a mere two feet away.
The sun was low in the sky as I reached the ninth, and I was determined to make par. I pulled the first shot left of the green, not a bad leave but not an automatic up and down given my short game. The second tee shot was a little skinny, but turned out well, ending up about 25 feet past the pin. I wanted to stack the odds in my favor, so I pulled a third ball out of my pocket and struck it nicely, leaving it about 20 feet left of the pin. Three shots at par -- I liked my chances.
Though pin high without any trouble to carry, my first ball had found a messy lie in the rough, which I muscled out to about 15 feet. The second ball had landed further away than I thought from the tee, and though I hit a solid putt, it had sailed about four feet past. I really didn't want to rely on that third tee shot to make par.
I missed the 15 footer of the one I chipped from off the green, so I walked up confidently to the four footer and poured it in.
Par in hand, I went to pick up the third ball, when I noticed something that hadn't caught my attention before. Though I usually play Bridgestone, that third ball was a Titleist So-Lo, and immediately, I thought of Peter's tribute last August.
The sun had just about dipped below the horizon, so I decided to leave it there, a temporary momento in honor of Dad. And though I had to play three tee shots, I was glad I'd finally gotten my par, and left a good chance at birdie for Dad.
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