Three-thirty wakeup calls are only welcomed when you’re heading hunting.
or fishing, not when a nine hundred mile drive to New York City is
looming. First of all I hate driving into the sun, New York is not a
favorite destination and hopefully the Rendevous would make it.
Everything went fine and we pulled into the Stamford, CT Hilton about
8:30 Monday evening. It was definitely overpriced even with a great
deal through Priceline, backing your car up to a cheap Mom and Pop
motel room is not an option in the Northeast. You end up paying extra
for parking, Internet service, $6.75 for a draft beer and the place was
a bit antiquated but we survived the traffic, New Yorker attitude and
rudeness, plus the moldy, polluted air.
We were playing Westchester CC, one of my top five courses on the PGA
Tour, and the first time I’d been back since 1992, I was definitely
looking forward to strolling the tight, tree lined fairways surrounded
by rocky out-croppings. The memories made the drive a bit easier, Murph
offered me my first full time job in the parking lot in 1988 and we
hauled Wayne Grady’s caddy to the hospital late one afternoon after a
caddy holiday spent shooting pool ended in a minor altercation and a
broken beer bottle protruding from his right lower cheek.
Twenty years ago this course wasn’t that hilly, it was a much more
difficult walk this week, we both weren’t in very good shape, me and
the course. The summer’s hot, humid weather with heavy rains destroyed
the fairways and we had to play the ball up all week, something you
hate to do in a major but balls were collecting mud and the fairway
grass was splotchy.
In the 1920’s John Bowman, self made millionaire and founder of the
Biltmore Hotel empire, created this exclusive retreat for Manhattan
elite and commissioned Walter Travis to design two golf courses. Along
with the eight story hotel, three polo fields, numerous tennis courts,
riding and walking trails, beach access on a local lake and the finest
staff to take care of every members need Westchester CC and Resort
opened in 1922 with 1,500 members for a $25 initiation fee. It was his
flagship property for his exclusive hotel empire.
Bob was returning to the scene of his most famous shot (maybe top ten
all time PGA Tour shots) and it was fun following a rock star for the
week. Usually Bob flies under the radar but this week everyone wanted a
piece of him. In the eighteenth fairway there’s a plaque commemorating
his 1982 double eagle from 251 yards, every true golf fan knows the
story and most wanted him to relive it this week. There were Golf
Channel interviews, autograph seekers everywhere and at least five
times a day we heard from someone who was there in 1982.
During our Tuesday practice round Jim Thorpe, Lonnie Nielson, James
Mason and the caddies paid homage, bowing to the plaque as we walked
down 18 finishing off a competitive money game. Lonnie’s caddy, Mike
Carrick, was in the 1982 group working for Tom Kite and witnessed the
shot. There was a long lunch, more interviews and we finally made it to
the practice tee Tuesday afternoon. Coincidently, Tom Kite and Peter
Jacobsen were next to us, the same threesome from 1982 reminisced about
the shot as they worked on their game. Stories like that aren’t heard
on the PGA Tour practice tee.
We had a good group for the Wednesday pro-am, they actually finished
second in a scorecard playoff and I thought a nice tip was coming. The
foursome had two local caddies, both could really read the deceptive
greens, and one of the guys asked me about the customary caddy tip.
Boldly, I said it was customary to tip all the caddies in the group.
Two out of three ain’t bad, I guess. One tour caddy, well, a player’s
wife who caddies regularly, hit the mother lode.
An extremely wealthy Wall Street exec, a rag to riches type story,
brought his favorite high school coach and teacher to the pro-am. It
was a bucket list day and after the round he stuffed cash in each
caddie’s pocket. Jill, Jim Rutledge’s wife, told me her wad was into
four figures but wouldn’t divulge exact numbers and the local caddies
were in tears when they counted their tip. Both used the astounding
tips for their kid’s high school tuition and couldn’t thank the man
enough. I’d forego all my tips if I heard a few more stories like that,
the pro caddy tent was abuzz and the local caddy yard threw a party
Wednesday afternoon.
I wish Bob’s game would have reflected the scores on his double eagle plaque but they were in the black this week. We had seven bogies during
the opening round Thursday and never really recovered. It wasn’t that
ugly but we kept missing fairways by inches and the gnarly rough
swallowed our Titleist every time. A few inches here or there and we
would have been fine but not this week. He hung in there, the head
dropped a few times and the frustration boiled over Saturday but he
managed a nice 67 on Sunday and we moved up 25 spots.
When it’s going tough you have to focus on goals other than winning so
we set our sights on retirement points, they get two points every time
they finish above 48th place. We’re also on the cusp of the
season-ending Tour Championship in San Francisco and every little bit will help the cause. Its tough staying focused when you’re out of the
tournament but like Murph used to say, “Four beats five, five is better
than six. That’s the way dad taught me golf. No matter how bad it’s
going do the best you can, never give up.”
Even though New York isn’t one of my favorite spots being at
Westchester CC helped. I didn’t get a chance to stop by some old local
haunts, Rye Bar and Grill and Pete’s in Elmsford but that was probably
a good thing. I suffered all week with a serious sinus and chest
infection, the heavy pollen count, mold and smog didn’t help and beer
didn’t taste good. It was a tough week until the tournament doctor
ordered a Z-pack and the beer tasted okay by the weekend.
Play was suspended Sunday for about two hours, cramping our travel
plans for Seattle. Sitting in the locker room during the delay watching
“Freddie” Couples nap on the floor with his feet propped up on the
bench I researched our chaotic trip west. A 15 hour drive to Chicago, 5
o’clock flight from O’Hare, maybe there will be time for a little
sleep, I’ll let you know.