The Beginning

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The Beginning Page 21

by Ed Nelson


  My second shot hit the fringe in front of the green, then released and rolled within five feet of the pin. When it was my turn to putt I drained it. This put me one under.

  The second hole was again a straight away of 385 yards. They had put bunkers to protect the fairway at 270 yards; a 250 yard drive would most likely roll into the sand trap. My solution was simple I just hit the ball in the air for 280 yards with another 20 yard roll. From there it was an easy up to the green.

  Unfortunately the green was in two tiers, the flag was on the upper tiers, my ball landed on the green and released. It rolled just enough to start up the slope to the second tier.

  Half way up it lost momentum and rolled backwards, almost off the green. It took two putts to get it in, so I was still one under.

  The third hole is a 200 yard par 3. It is simple to get there. The fairway is paralleled by a pond on the right, but is no problem if you keep the ball in play, which I did.

  My ball landed on the dance floor and rolled within fifteen feet of the pin. This green was not flat and level, it had undulations which required a good read.

  When I got up there I realized that the small rises and drops in the surface of the green was leaving some of it in shadow. This would slow the ball down.

  Taking this into account and how the slight rise and drop would affect my putt I made it look easy. It was like the ball had eyes. I was now two under. As I walked away a gentleman in the crowd winked at me.

  The next hole was a 466 yard par 4. I laced the driver and then put the ball on the green with a seven iron, I misjudged; I should have used a six iron. I ended up on the fringe of the green and it took two strokes to get the ball up and down. I was still two under.

  The 5th hole was a 450 yard par 4. It’s a slight dogleg to the left. I was lucky because there had been a slight breeze but it now had died down. I would’ve been hitting into it, but with just enough of an angle to cause a problem with drift.

  I managed to move the ball 270 yards down the fairway then get on with a three iron. Again the tight green had enough slope that it took me two putts. I was still two under for the day.

  Number 6 hole was a 231 yard par 3. My three wood came up short and I took another par, to remain two under.

  Next was a 481 yard par 4. It was 240 yards to the creek. Again I took the easy out and just hit over it. I was on in two, but then the green was so contoured that I three putted for a bogey. This left me one under.

  The 8th hole was a tricky par 5 with a dog leg to the right. I carried the bunkers which were at 250 yards. I managed to keep the ball on the right side of the green on my second shot. This left me an easy two putts for a birdie and put me back to two under.

  Nine was a 468 yard par 4 with a slight dog left to the left. I was on in two, but the sharp slope fooled me and I ended up short of the hole requiring a tap in for par.

  The day was going nicely; it was a sunny day with almost no breeze now. I felt comfortable on the course. There was a little back up on the tenth tee. A lot of the guys were scarfing hotdogs but I chose to have a cup of water. No sense in taking a chance on indigestion on the course.

  As we were getting ready to tee off I noticed an extremely pretty girl in the crowd. This was the first time ever for me that there were enough people watching that it could be called a gallery. Judy gave a little wave; I waved back, but kept my mind on the game.

  Ten is a 363 yard par 4 that rewards an accurate drive. I used a three wood to put it out 245 yards, from there a six iron to lay it on the green. It was an easy putt for birdie. I was now three under.

  Number eleven was a 378 par four and that is exactly what I did, a par. There was a bunker at 270 yards but my long drive took it out of play.

  The twelfth hole, a par 3 at 172 yards was a simple five iron shot. I should have had a birdie but left it on the lip for a par. I was still three under.

  Thirteen was a 516 yard par five. I cleared the sand trap at 245 yards and got on easy with a three iron. I then two putted for another birdie. I was now four under.

  You must understand. I was not dwelling on my score. I was playing golf and actually having fun doing it. While I wasn’t paying attention to the other golfer’s game, I would say, “Nice shot, etc.”

  It was all light banter, certainly no grief. Nobody else in my foursome had a birdie all day so I knew I was leading my foursome. The only leaderboard was at the club house. There weren’t large galleries to make a lot of noise on good shots.

  So I played golf without the pressure of knowing how the competition was doing.

  Fourteen was the first hole of what they called Murderers Row. It was a 480 yard with a narrow fairway. I walked away with a par and felt good about it.

  The fifteenth hole was almost my undoing. It’s a 468 yard par 4. The wind is right in your face. There had been no breezes all day. Just as I hit a booming drive the wind kicked in and carried the ball to the right cutting its distance down.

  The ball rolled into a sand trap about 310 yards out. To add to the pain the ball rolled right up to the lip of the trap nearest the green. So I had almost 160 yards to go, and had to hit the ball sideways out of the trap. I then put it on the green in a poor position and three putted the hole for a double bogey. I was now two under.

  All of a sudden I went from an exceptional round to a good round. I didn’t realize how much pressure that had put on me. I thought I was just nonchalantly going around the course.

  That wasn’t the case at all. It was like the weight of the world came off my shoulders. I would do okay, but I didn’t have to be superman.

  I then proceeded to par the rest of the holes to end up two under for the day. After I signed my card and checked the leaderboard I found I had the lead. The closest player would probably end up with a eighty one! A local reporter asked Coach if he could talk to me, Coach sat in for the interview.

  Chapter 47

  The reporter started with, “How do you feel with having a score the same as Dick Mayer who won the open played on this course last year, and beating Cary Middlecoff’s score?”

  This was all news to me.

  “I feel good about having a nice round of golf on this excellent course. The club and the Ohio State High School Athletic Association should be complimented on putting on such a fine tournament.”

  This local reporter was an amateur compared with the Hollywood sharks that interviewed John Wayne and Elvis Presley.

  “Do you care to comment on how much better you did here today than Jack Nicklaus did last year? The young sensation from Columbus didn’t even make the cut with an eighty.”

  “No I don’t care to comment, no course is the same from day to day, much less year to year.”

  “Well Rick what will you do tomorrow?”

  “Is that a trick question? I will play golf tomorrow.”

  The reporter grimaced and I was sure he would have liked to smack me.”

  Coach had to cover his mouth with his hand.

  I never saw what that reporter wrote, but my guess is that he wasn’t a fan.

  Coach told me I had handled the interview well until that last question. I might want to tone it down.

  It was now four thirty in the afternoon and I had nothing to eat since early morning. The hot dog stand had closed so it looked like I was stuck till dinner which wouldn’t be till six o’clock. I was rescued by Judy King. She happened to be near the press tent when I came out.

  I asked her if there was any place I could get something to eat. She went into the club house and ordered a cheeseburger and fries to go, along with a Coke. She came out and sat with me at a picnic table while we waited for it to be ready. Judy played golf though her school didn’t have a girl’s golf team.

  She wanted to know about my round today, shot by shot. Rather than bore her to death with that, I gave the high lights and what I thought of each hole. Actually that helped, it was like lessons learned from the day. She really liked my story about Arnold Palmer and the shadow
s on the golf green.

  I actually pulled my note book and started taking notes on the course. Judy asked me if I referred to it at each hole. I laughed and told her.

  “Actually I never look at it; it just helps my memory if I write it down. What you just helped me discover was that it also helps if I talk about the round and what went right and wrong.”

  “What went wrong today?” Rick.

  “The sand trap on fifteen caught me, or I caught it.”

  “What have you learned?”

  “Not to play on a course that has sand traps,” I said with a straight face.

  “But, but oh you rat.”

  I was saved by the waitress bringing out my sandwich. Judy had signed for it, but I gave a fifty cent tip. I know a big spender, but I wanted to show off a little.

  “Will you be able to eat dinner after eating this?”

  “Sure that is not for at least an hour from now.”

  “If I ate like that I would be like the Goodyear Blimp.”

  “Well obviously you don’t, because you look very good to me.”

  “Oh you say the nicest things.”

  “Yes, he does,” said a voice over my shoulder, “I’m sorry to break this up but we have to get back to the zoo.”

  It was Coach.

  On the way back to camp Coach did remark, “She is an attractive young lady, it’s a shame she lives so far away.”

  “Yes it is,” I replied.

  As a team we sat down and talked about our experiences for the day. Coach made his own notes. I had my notebook out and made some entries based on what I heard. The other guys had their books out, but nothing was being written.

  I made eye contact once with Coach after we had both written down that the green on the fifth hole had seemed slower to all of us. The other guys just sat there chatting whenever Coach wasn’t involving them in recap.

  Coach just gave a sad little smile and said quietly, “You can lead a horse to water.”

  Our dining hall had spaghetti for dinner. The National Guard guys congratulated me on my days score. After dinner I walked up near the club house, unfortunately there was no one to talk to, in other words Judy wasn’t there.

  I retired to our tent for the evening and started reading. It was about a man who was an ivory transporter down the Congo River. It was one of the more futile stories that I had ever read.

  The Europeans were as brutal as the natives in central Africa. The whole story was a sad commentary on mankind. My sleep was restless that night, I’m certain it was the story.

  Chapter 48

  The next morning I awoke at my normal six a.m. and was glad that night was over. By the time I had finished my exercises and daily run the world looked better. Breakfast was bacon, scrambled eggs and home fries. That along with toast and orange juice set me up for the day.

  There was a bowl of apples set out. I snagged a couple for the course. Our foursomes tee time was nine o’clock, so we would be out on the course at lunchtime.

  I limbered up on the driving range, but only did a dozen balls with each club. I spent most of my time on the practice green.

  Soon enough it was time to tee off. The first hole was kind to me again. I played it the same as yesterday and had the same result, a birdie to start me out at one under.

  The second hole was also a replay of yesterday. I landed on the lower portion of the green and ended up taking two shots to get the ball in the hole. So I was still one under.

  I had a birdie on three yesterday but today it was a par. The greens uneven surface was too much for me to read correctly and I left it six inches past the hole. A simple tap in, left me still at one under. I was glad that Mr. Palmer wasn’t there to see my poor showing.

  I made up for it on the fourth hole. Yesterday I had a par, today a birdie. I landed the ball in the center of the green and it had enough backspin to roll back to within two feet of the pin.

  The fifth hole played exactly as it did yesterday. The green was small and so fast I didn’t want to take any chances. I walked away happy with a par, and being two under.

  On the 231 par 3 I hit the ball sweet this time. Yesterday I had been a little fat, getting under the ball too much, so it ended up in a high short arc, landing on the fringe. Today it wasn’t fat and left me a birdie opportunity, which I sunk to make me three under.

  Yesterday I bogeyed number seven. Today it was a par. Again on in two, but this time it was a two putt for a par.

  The eighth hole was becoming my favorite on the course. Last time I had a birdie. Today my approach shot to the green went where I wanted it to, and left me three feet from the pin. That left enough distance to actually have to think about it, but I didn’t overthink. Well the real truth is, I quickly addressed the ball and drained it like I knew what I was doing. This eagle put me five under.

  Nine was the same as yesterday, I was on in two. Then I ended up long and had a nervous twenty five foot putt to get the ball next to the hole, then a tap in for par.

  At the tenth guys were scarfing hotdogs. I was satisfied to have my apples with a drink of water. I looked for Judy, but neither she nor her parents were around.

  It would be nice to report that I cruised through the back nine setting a course record. Instead it got ugly real quick.

  Ten must have given me a false sense of security because I birdied it in the same fashion as yesterday. I was now six under for the tournament and on course for a sixty six. Last year at the Open the best round recorded by a Professional was sixty eight. I wish I hadn’t put that together.

  I promptly bogeyed number eleven by a poor putt. There was no other way to put it, it was sloppy. So that was one stroke I had given back. It wasn’t to end.

  It looked like things were back under control on twelve. I came back with a birdie and got the stroke back.

  Today I didn’t clear the sand trap and was happy to get away with a par five.

  Yesterday I was light hearted at this point. Today I was tense as all get out.

  Now I know why they call it Murderers Row.

  The only problem with the fourteenth fairway was its narrowest. Yesterday I stayed in the fairway. Today the wind pushed me into the rough. It left a very poor, but playable lie. That is how I played it, poorly. I came out of the rough low and fast and rolled across the fairway to the rough on the other side. I was playing Army golf, Left, Right, Left. That cost a stroke.

  On the fifteenth I came back with a par.

  Sixteen was a par, looking good.

  Seventeen another par, only one to go, sitting at a sixty seven. Just keep cool and par eighteen.

  My second shot on eighteen went into Death Valley. I just plain pushed it there. Getting out was horrible, I hit it right over the green. So I was laying three and not even on. That was a first for this tournament.

  I attempted a pitch and run, but the ball didn’t release and roll. It just landed on the fringe and sat there. That was embarrassing. But embarrassed or not I had to putt out. I then promptly three putted for a triple bogey.

  I looked at the gallery and was thrilled that Judy King wasn’t there. My course record all of a sudden had turned into a mundane seventy.

  It is amazing what your mind will do to you. I had just matched the two day score of the winner of last year’s U.S. Open and I was mildly depressed. Coach Stone got me out of that mood real quick. He basically told me to get my head out of my rear end and act like a gracious winner.

  Well I didn’t have to pretend to be gracious very long. Enough people congratulated me that the act was soon dropped and my mood improved. I also felt so tired!

  It was a shame our team wouldn’t be advancing to State. As individual low score I would advance, but as a team we came in second behind Toledo Bowsher. The closing ceremonies were held and trophies handed out and we were ready to head home. I took one last look around for Judy King, but none of the King family was in sight.

  We picked up our packed suitcases from where the tents had been
. The National Guard had removed everything and was long gone.

  Scott, Gary and Tim were all nice to me and were happy that I won, but they were also depressed that their golf for the year was over.

  We got home to our adoring fans. That is our families led by our personal cheerleader Mary, Pom Poms and all. I don’t know who she had been working with, but she even had our official high school cheers memorized.

  When I got home it was lights out, with no reading, I was exhausted. I wondered if I would see Judy in Columbus.

  Chapter 49

  Monday came quickly. To make matters worse it was raining buckets, cold nasty buckets. A cold front had come in during the night with a loud thunderstorm. I did my indoor exercises, but there would be no running this morning.

  I went ahead and showered, again thinking about that darn shower head. There had to be some way you could adjust the direction of the shower head, but how? It was all metal.

  I had seen shower heads with a rubber hose attaching them to the water pipe. The problem with those was it took a hand to aim it in the correct direction. I wanted to be able to point the water where I wanted it, and just let it flow.

  Having no inspiration on that problem front, I went down for breakfast. Since I couldn’t run I was there a half hour earlier than usual. It was just Mum and Dad sitting with their coffee and tea. I sat down at the table and must have looked like I was still asleep. Dad said nothing; he just got up and poured me a cup of coffee.

  I had tried coffee before and couldn’t stand the taste. I knew that caffeine would wake you up, so decided to try it again. It was steaming hot from the pot so I saucered some like I saw Dad do previously.

  That is I poured some from my cup into the saucer; then blew on it to cool it down. I then sipped the cooler coffee. It still tasted terrible. I kept at it anyway. I needed to wake up.

  While we were sitting there drinking our morning beverages the radio was playing. The national news came on. One of the stories was about the conviction last week of the ringleader of the largest modern cattle rustling operation in the West.

 

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