Sunday, September 8, 2024

A stiff wind, a choppy lake and a fighting chance off a Par 5 tee

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That stiff west wind blowing in my face should’ve been enough of a reason, but the choppy water rolling across the lake in front of the No. 18 tees at Dobson Ranch Golf Course in Mesa sealed the deal.

Golf can be a humbling sport even for highly skilled players. For golfers like me, who most definitely is not highly skilled, it was time for some humility of my own on this par 5 closing hole.

So, I parked my cart at the last set of tees with the three other golfers I was paired with on this breezy day in early May and waited while they took their turns teeing off into the wind and over the lake.

The first one opted to hit from the blue tee farthest back, making it a roughly 485-yard hole. (‘’Come on, who’s he trying to impress?’’ I thought, as he swung and cleared the lake with plenty of room to spare.) The other two hit from the middle tee (465 yards but still a fair amount of water to clear), where I’d been playing from all day, and both landed dry with playable shots.

Now, it was my turn. I’ll not-so-gladly admit — and it was obvious to my playing partners — that over the course of this back nine I had been falling apart. My goal for a round of 18 normally is to see if I can break 100, have a decent number of par putt attempts, a birdie chance or two if I’m lucky, but most often, I don’t score in double figures. At times, I don’t really keep score (hey, it worked for Ty in ‘Caddyshack’), and actually seem to do better, enjoying the time outside and appreciating the good shots I manage to pull off.

So here on 18, while the others hit, I’d been eyeing the forward tee box. I’d still have to clear some water, but not nearly as much. It was a move I normally wouldn’t consider when playing with strangers, friendly though they usually are. Male ego and all that, you see.

But for some time now, long before this round, I had been thinking that I’d probably enjoy golf a lot more at this point if I just played from the forward tees, which have been labeled as ‘’ladies’ tees,’’ through the years, suggesting no real man would stoop so low as to move up there. That wrong-headed attitude probably influenced me through the years, as it has many others.

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More recently, however, the USGA has encouraged more golfers, regardless of gender or age, to consider playing from forward tees — now a term the organization prefers — to help make the game enjoyable for more golfers and also help speed up play on crowded courses (Dobson is one of those Phoenix-area public courses that draws big crowds).

I reminded myself of all this as the wind kicked up harder. I looked at my fellow players as I pulled out the slightly worn 13-degree Callaway I purchased used 12 years ago, swallowed hard and shouted at them, “I’m hitting from up here to give myself a fighting chance!’’ (Yeah, I probably could’ve stopped at the word ”here” without trying to over-explain, but …).

And so I teed it up from the forward tee, which made the hole about 420 yards. It still required a shot over part of the lake and into the wind to land in a decent spot, but not nearly as much.

I gripped the club, focused on the scuffed Titleist 3 with some company logo that probably was in my bag for at least five years after I found it in the rough. Took a deep breath. Ignored the wind. Fought off thoughts of skiffing it into the water from the forward tee and reared back.

You know what?

The world didn’t come to an end.

The guys in my group didn’t laugh at me.

In fact, the ball took off on a glorious, straight path down the middle, toward the fairway, scoffing at the water below as it soared into the wind. Yeah, it probably only went about 185 yards at most, counting the roll, but it was out there.

Over my shoulder, I heard a few voices in my group utter the two most welcome words in golf for any recreational golfer: “Nice shot.’’

And that was that. We moved on.

Sure, I bogeyed the hole, but still, that last shot of confidence off the forward tee with the wind in my face, over the water as my ‘’game’’ was in shambles was the kind of shot that any golfer knows will keep you coming back. That one, smooth moment of pure contact that purges from your memory the 14 other chunks, tops, hooks and shanks that marked the round. “I can do that every time!” we convince ourselves. Until we can’t.

I’m still struggling with the idea of regularly using the forward tees — the middle tees aren’t really all that bad on most holes. It would be nice if courses could find ways to pair golfers of similar skill levels for daily rounds, or list ”forward tee times” throughout the day to reserve, but it’s probably not a practical way to run the business. And most golfers who understand etiquette don’t think it’s a big deal to be paired with players of different skill levels. We’re all there because we love the game.

But the hunch here is there probably are plenty of recreational golfers who have played for years like myself, or are just starting out, who struggle and could benefit from the boost in confidence and enjoyment the forward tees might offer but are hesitant to move up. I hear you. I’m still working on it myself.

But it shouldn’t take a stiff wind and a big lake to give folks who love the game ”a fighting chance” off the tee.

(Assistant sports editor Chris Coppola can be reached at chris.coppola@arizonarepublic.com).

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