A look at Sahalee through weary eyes
By Mike Kahn
CBS SportsLine Executive Editor
Aug. 10, 1998
REDMOND, Wash. -- The perspective that emerged four score and a century ago
that golf is a gentleman's game is just as outdated as the wooden shafts
and the tiny club faces that clearly made the game more difficult then than
it is today.
Thankfully, only Jim Pike was privy to see what yours truly has done to
this game. Pike, the pro at Sahalee
Country Club -- the site of this week's PGA Championship -- had the nerve to
take me out for an 18-hole tour last week.
To
|
Sahalee's par-3 ninth hole beckons the pros this week. (AP)
|
our credit, not once did we yell 'fore' during the round that included
his brilliant eagle on the 509-yard second. However, it was necessary
for me to yell timber! from nearly every tee.
I AM NOT NEARLY A scratch golfer -- only the requisite scratching of the head that
comes with watching my game (as in why did he do that?). I wasn't always a total hack, having played three years of golf on the high school team and winning an occasional tournament in my age group
during my early teens. Even in college, where we could play all day for $2
on a championship course, there were moments of excitement and victory, and
my handicap did dip to 10 at one point.
That was 22 years, a wife and two children ago. And it looks it.
Playing with clubs just a few months old that belonged to my late
father, I ran into a problem: These were clubs with grips designed for men with arthritic
hands -- large soft grips. Fortunately, that was only the case with the
woods, not the irons. Translated, that meant every wood I hit went
right. Not just a little ... but toward the Eastern seaboard.
In other words, it was humiliating playing with a pro, and my total
of 119 was generous considering it felt like I used an entire
bucket of practice range balls during the round. It was the worst
18-hole score of my life and the only round ever in which I did not manage
better than a bogey.
That said, let's browse the course -- manic-hack style:
No. 1 Par 4, 406 yards
The first hole was one of the few holes I managed to get off the tee and
not land in the trees. Of course, it also was my first experience with the
four inch-plus rough. As I found out early, Jim is an expert at spotting
balls in deep rough. Good thing. Only I'm the one who had to hit out of it.
Instead of a five-iron, I should have used a scythe. A sweet wedge (the
iron grips were normal), allowed me to save bogey. Jim, a natural lefty who
plays righty and putts as a southpaw, just missed a birdie. About
two-thirds of the way to the hole, the fairway appears to be about 10 feet
wide from a trap on the left and the trees on the right. That's an
exaggeration. It's at least 10 yards wide.
No. 2 Par 5, 509 yards
The slight dogleg left required an accurate draw, as Jim explained and then
accomplished. His drive was perfect, flying the rough on the left side and
kicking down the hill. My drive flew, too, right into the trees on the
right, luckily into a clearing. I managed to have a decent shot down
the fairway that nearly reached Jim's drive. He proceeded to crush a 2-iron
to about 10 feet left of the hole. I proceeded to crush a 3-wood into trees
farther down the right rough -- just missing the lake on the right. Again, a
wedge saved me enough to manage a bogey tap-in, while he dropped his eagle.
That was the end of his eagles for the day and the end of my bogeys for
awhile.
No. 3 Par 4, 415 yards
The dogleg right seemed perfect for my fade as it jumped out of the tee-box
-- unfortunately it exploded into a slice about 150 yards down the fairway
into the beautiful row of fir trees on the right. Tall and proud vs. short
and mortified. Guess who won? By the time I escaped the rough and the
trees, Jim was taking a snooze over a 20-foot birdie putt. It just skipped
out -- which is what I should have done. Mercifully, I settled for a 10 --
wondering aloud (to myself) how any human being can actually strike the
ball solidly in that rough.
No. 4 Par 4, 386 yards
With a good drive, this hole appeared easy. Jim ripped it right
down the left side of the fairway, making the hole easy for him despite the
tight bunkers blocking the front tier of the two-tiered greens. Of course,
I landed behind the firs and the bunker on the right side. If I could have
picked it cleanly, there actually was room to go under the trees and bypass
the bunker on the right. Hitting it fat only left it just to the right of
the bunker and still in treacherous rough. This time, I took a wedge and
made it to the secondary rough about 30 yards down the fairway. That left
me an 8-iron shot that went right over the top of the stick on the elevated
green about 25 feet beyond the cup. My read was a break right, then a left
and downhill. Jim agreed with me and I lagged to within a couple of feet. A
nice two-putt. Too bad it was for a double-bogey. Jim parred again -- it
occurred to me that my game was far more adventuresome and interesting than
his. In other words, I was already delusional after four holes.
No. 5 Par 3, 195 yards
Before making it to the next tee, we ran into the superintendent of this
picturesque track -- Tom Wolff. The lush terrain, 3/8-inch tees and
diamond-cut fairways made him a proud father. Rightfully so. As I then
regained my game-face for the 195-yard hole and pulled out a 3-iron,
it occurred to me that with trees on both sides of the fairway, a lake
spanning half the fairway edging toward the left front of the green, and a
pot bunker on the right -- I was attempting to hit a postage stamp through a
wind tunnel. It was the right club -- but here's the news -- I hit it right.
My pitch just missed the cup -- running 15 feet by -- and guess what? Another
bogey. Jim was right on the stick, eight feet and birdied it. It was pretty
tough to tell which one was the pro.
No. 6 Par 4, 480 yards
A par 4 ... yeah, sure. They cut about 15 yards off this hole -- a par-5 for
members. Slightly uphill and about 200 yards out, the fairway narrows
with traps on either side and huge cedar trees on the right. Jim bogeyed,
and I wasn't the least bit perturbed with a triple-bogey. After all, it was
really only a double-bogey as far as I was concerned. When they stick the
pin in a back corner of this two-tiered green, there are going to be a lot of
bogeys. A lot.
No. 7 Par 4, 421 yards
As if 6 wasn't difficult enough, this one plays even more head games.
Again, the drive out of the chute features trees waving at you from 100 feet straight up. Maybe it won't bother the pros, but a tree about 150
yards down the fairway disturbed the heck out of me. I could have sworn
that drive wouldn't slice -- but we never found out as that fir reached out
and grabbed the screamer. Two smacks later, I was within a wedge of the
green and was right on the stick again, only too strong. With traps
surrounding the front of the green, better I go long than short. But this
undulant putting surface had two breaks in it, too. I was lucky to pull
off a double-bogey. Oh yeah, Jim hit the trees on the left, proving to me
that pros are human, too. He bogeyed.
No. 8 Par 4, 444 yards
I finally got off the tee here, and hit a good 5-wood. Jim thinks it might
be the toughest hole. A couple of decent shots allowed me to think this was
no tougher or easier than any of the other holes. Landing in the light
secondary rough was perfect on the right side of the fairway because of the
nice lie on the special tufts grown by Wolff and his crew. I actually
only had a 17-foot birdie putt, but misread it left and had two feet downhill.
First actual choke of the day. So much for a par. Jim was Mr. Regulation here.
No. 9 Par 3, 213 yards
The ninth hole is 213 yards, but it was playing about 180 -- all carry beyond a lake to the front of the
green, with bunkers on either side and rhododendrons lining the back of the
green. It's a gorgeous hole and with the pin in the front, I like my chances
with a 5-iron. Again I hit it hole high . . . and to the right of the green.
The greens were so firm and fast, I could stop the wedge -- which ran 35
feet beyond the hole. Two putts coming back gave me another bogey -- which
was beginning to feel like par. Jim nailed his 6-iron right on it, and just
missed the bird.
No. 10 Par 4 401 yards
We still had nine holes to play? I realized my 59 on the front was the
same score as Al Geiberger had when he set a PGA record for low score in a
tournament regulation course. Brimming with confidence, I was not. Whereas
most of the front nine doglegs went right, this was the beginning of the
doglegs left. With water on the right of the green and the narrow tee-box,
I was lucky to get it out of there. Another 5-wood got me close enough to
the green and far enough away from the water that I could safely land on
the green and take a run at par from 35 feet. Considering it's a 100-foot
green, I felt thrilled to bogey again. Jim hit a great 2-iron off the tee
and had an 18-footer. He really played this hole well, but again missed the
bird.
No. 11 Par 5, 546 yards
There was a time in my golfing life I loved holes like this. A slight
dogleg left with the trees jumping out at you off the tee. Needless to say I'm
way right. After getting it back into the fairway, I hit a decent 3-wood down toward the green. About 50 yards in front of the green are
a pair of huge fir trees with about 15 yards of fairway between them. "We
expect to catch some flack for this one," Pike said. They made me choke.
Jim eased his way through a par. The choke made me putt from about 10 feet
off the green and 40 feet to the stick. The lag was good enough to allow me
a seven. Little did I know the nightmare that was about to come down.
No. 12 Par 4, 458 yards
Not that anything on this hole made it more difficult than the others -- but
my frustration factor got out of hand on this long par 4 with a thin
fairway and plenty of trees in the deep rough. A drive deep into the right
rough took time to find, but not as long as it took me to get out of there.
I finally just dropped it into the secondary rough, then hit my first shank
of the day. Mercifully, Jim started to chuckle. He had nothing else to do
while I was flailing away. "You know, a lot of times I think if I make
suggestions, it will just make things worse," he offered. What he didn't
say was, "but in your case, it couldn't get any worse." He parred the
hole, showing great concentration. I finished with a cool 11.
No. 13 Par 3, 176 yards
This played about 140 over the lake and between the traps out of the tight
tee-box. Jim was right on the stick, again just missing the bird. I
actually stayed up on the left side of the green above the trap about 22
feet. My putt was running right at the hole and missed by about three feet. That loud
squealing sound was my primal scream as I failed to even hit the cup on the
return. It was times like these that reminded me why the putter I was
playing with was bent. At least I had outgrown the tantrums that forced me
away from the game and to allow my skills to atrophy so greatly. But this
was RIDICULOUS!
No. 14 Par 4, 374 yards
Instead of blowing up, I kept it together enough for my drive to be in
play. Not that it was anything to brag about. At least Jim wasn't laughing
at what we used to call a worm-burner -- about a 180-yard drive
that never got more than 18 inches off the ground. But it played. I just
missed the green to the left and in what was my worst pitch of the day --
hitting it with the strength of my 6-year-old niece -- left myself a 30-foot
putt for par. Actually, I thought it was going in. Silly me. It rolled past by five
feet. Putting for bogey? Of course I made this one. I became so wrapped up
in poor, poor pitiful me, I lost track of Jim on this hole. He was chatting
with some groundskeepers. They were so proud of the course -- and had every
right to be. "You know, rarely do you have something to work for like this
on a golf course," he said. "But with a major tournament, everybody is
really showing a lot of pride in their workmanship. It's like we're from
another era right now." Me? I was just lost in time and space.
No. 15 Par 4, 417 yards
This might be the most picturesque hole on the course, with wonderfully
mature firs and cedars framing the fairway some 265 yards down from the
tee. I took a drop out of the deep rough just to have some fun, and smacked
a five-wood right over the top of a huge fir on the right side of the
fairway within 80 yards. There seemed to be about two feet between the two
traps in the front of the elevated green, which isn't a problem for a pro
like Jim Pike. I kept fighting thoughts of another shank. The fairways were
cut so short and I was so concerned about taking a major chunk, I nearly
picked the wedge clean. And it was short. Fortunately, it landed in a
grassy area of secondary rough by the right trap. And I nearly holed it out
for a par. But there were to be no pars on this day, and deep down, I knew
it.
No. 16, Par 4, 377 yards
This was a dogleg right, with a little bit of room to hit on the left. For
pros, it required an iron. For me, it took a drive behind the tallest fir
tree I've ever seen in the right rough. I didn't get out of the rough on my
first attempt. Nor the second. The third attempt was sitting up, so I tried
the five-wood. I hit it hard enough that it would gave been a base hit
through any infield -- and it actually rolled into the secondary rough. A
little wild-eyed and overwhelmed, I had about a 7-iron into the green and I
did something I hadn't done all day -- landed in the trap. And for the first
time in my life -- since my old set didn't have one -- I pulled out a sand
wedge for the buried ball. It was one of my better shots of the day,
considering it only rolled by the hole 20 feet. I tapped in for a crazy 8 --
I used to love that card game as a kid -- hate it as a golf score.
No. 17, Par 3, 215 yards
Like the other par 3s, we played this one short -- about 170. The elevated
tee comes out of a shoot and the pin placement on the left elevated tier of
the green was just beyond the water. Like so many holes with water on this
course, Wolff scalped the surface next to the elevated green so anything
missing the green is likely to be bound for the lake. Bound and determined
for a solid shot at par, I fell way off the tee shot -- hitting it way too
thin and nearly to the cart path just to the left of the trees on the
right. The rough was, well, very rough. I couldn't get out totally on my
first attempt and my second came a little cleaner, but rolled nearly off
the green. In classic hacker form, I three-putted miserably for another
triple-bogey. Granted, the courses I played growing up weren't anywhere
near this tough because of the rough and the firm-and-fast greens -- but I
was bound for a 60 on this nine. Never before had I managed this many
strokes on a side. I couldn't even imagine it.
No. 18 Par 4, 475 yards
Then again, I couldn't imagine this hole, either. It plays 525 for the
club, so it was about another unfair par 4 -- poor moi. The dogleg
left was shrouded with huge trees in my face on both sides. Going way
right, on a sidehill lie, my left foot was about 12 inches higher than my
right foot. As if I wasn't having enough trouble with level lies, this was
even worse. Surprisingly, my lie in the rough wasn't too bad. But the
five-wood I hit looked like a lazy pop-up after getting jammed on an inside
fastball. It didn't get out of the rough, and I then punched a 7-iron down
into the fairway. It had gotten to the point where I wasn't any more
comfortable in the fairway than I was in the rough. I hit a five-iron
horribly, but it ran pretty good to about 70 yards from the pin. The better
news was I was in the secondary rough, which felt like nirvana. But I again
didn't swing through it, leaving it about 10 yards short of the green --
tired, aggravated and -- mostly -- psyched out beyond belief. I pitched with
my trusty wedge and it just barely got on the green. Some 40 feet away,
with all confidence and feel long gone, left pulled it left about 10 feet
short going downhill. I figured it was necessary to prevent a four-putt,
which would have been a 10 and a record third double-figure hole
for the round. Calmly, coolly, I left it about six inches short and tapped
it in gleefully for a nine. At least I broke 120 (119).
What it told me was what a wonderfully, pleasant and patient guy Jim
Pike is for putting up with me -- although he probably went into the gym
shortly thereafter for 15 minutes on the speedbag. The thrill for himself
(a native of nearby Tacoma) and his club was obvious. The layout and beauty
of the course was beyond reproach, a credit to Wolff and his crew. And
with the entire world of golf about to land in their previously anonymous
little world, the only thing I could think of as I removed my cleats was
how embarrassed I was. But that's not to say, there won't be some
embarrassed pros at Sahalee before this week is over.
Love it or hate it, that's just the way this confounding game works.
Mike Kahn is CBS SportsLine's executive editor.
Return to the Wiseguys Corner