Name of the Game May Be Golf, but It’s Not the Same

After spending a couple of days stalking the fairways at Torrey Pines, I have come to the conclusion there must be different versions of the game of golf.

One is being played this weekend at the Isuzu-Andy Williams San Diego Open.

The other is mine.

Everything is different. The language. The rules. The results.

I came to these conclusions after (a) watching the tournament and (b) listening to the leaders in the press room.

The other day, for example, Howard Twitty was providing the media with a shot-by-shot description of his round. The fact he could do it in a couple of minutes underscores a rather drastic difference in our games. I tried it once at the 19th hole and finished at last call.

I was starting to daydream at about the time I heard Twitty say he had hit his tee shot down the hill and into the ice plant on the 11th hole of the North Course.

Aha, I thought, this would be the ideal place to use his mulligan.

I was aghast to discover that he found his ball and took a penalty for an unplayable lie. I was still anxious to hear about what would surely be a double or triple bogey.

“I hit a 4-iron 12 feet from the hole,” Twitty said, “and made the putt.”

For a par.

I watched Gary Hallberg approaching the 18th on the South Course, and darned if he didn’t hit his second shot into the pond.

Oh oh, I thought, trouble here. He hit a wedge to within a foot of the hole and made the putt for his par.

Is it really that easy?

Back in the press room, I heard pro after pro talking about holes that were reachable in two shots.

Hmmm, I pondered, they must be talking about No. 11 on the South Course.

I have a heckuva time getting there in one. After all, it’s 216 yards, slightly uphill and usually into a breeze coming off the ocean. If I don’t hit my tee shot into the gully or onto the glider port, I can get to the green with my second shot.

As it turned out, the pros were talking about reaching the par-5 holes with their second shots. On the par 5, I try to get my second shot within a local phone call of the green.

Now another pro, Steve Pate, was talking about a round of 65.

“I didn’t make any long putts,” he said, “but I didn’t miss anything I should have made.”

When I have a round like that, I only have three people to thank--my playing partners. When I don’t miss anything I should have made, it is because someone is giving me a lot of two-footers.

Anything beyond two feet is an adventure for me. Give me anything past 12 feet and I need a 4-wood, binoculars, a map and a rosary.

“I hit every fairway,” another pro was explaining.

What’s the big deal? I hit every fairway, eventually. Sometimes I hit three on the same hole.

I get bored, to be honest, listening to these guys. Almost every one of them talks about how much fun he had.

Just once, I’d like to see them bring a guy to the press room who just shot an 81 and finished with a triple bogey out of the pond. Let me start out by asking him how much fun he had.

Just once, in fact, let them put me up on the chair of honor with a microphone in my hand. Let them ask me about one of my typical rounds.

Media: How did you shoot?

Me: Seven under.

Media: How’d you putt?

Me: I made seven putts. I’ve had better days.

Media: Seven putts? That’s unbelievable. You must have had an incredible day chipping.

Me: Who said anything about chipping? I made seven putts and lagged the other 11 inside the leather. Those are gimmees in any civilized foursome.

Media: How did you hit the woods?

Me: What do you mean? How often? Truthfully, it seemed like I was in the woods all day. I felt more like I was in Yosemite than Torrey Pines. On one hole, I found two forest rangers, a bear and a family from Iowa fixing lunch in their campsite. I should have packed a lunch.

Media: How did you find the golf course?

Me: I didn’t have any trouble finding it, but I had a lot of trouble staying on it once I got here.

Media: You misunderstand. How did it play? Tough? Easy?

Me: Torrey Pines is perfect for my game. When you haven’t gotten a tee shot into the air in months, you appreciate hard fairways without much grass. You could land a 747 on some of those fairways.

Media: How have you been playing lately?

Me: How do I know? I never know what to expect. I once shot an 81 on Saturday and 111 on Sunday. Same course. Same swing.

Media: Do you have a coach?

Me: I played a few weeks ago with a friend of mine named Bell. He shot a 66 and I shot a 92, so I asked him for some tips.

Media: What happened?

Me: The next time we played, he shot an 81 and I shot a 92.

Media: Do you want to give us a hole-by-hole rundown?

Me: If you’ve got time. What are your deadlines?

Media: Wait a minute. You come in here and say you shot seven-under and then give us this tale of woe. It couldn’t have been all that bad. A 65 is a 65.

Me: Who said anything about a 65? I was hoping to break 100, and I did. I shot a 93.