When I accumulate marital points I cash in quickly. Thus, when my wife returned from India safe and sound, I welcomed her home by giving her a hug, packing a suitcase and catching the first flight to Florida. After an evening flight and a good night’s sleep I awoke to sunrise over the Peace River:
I then quickly scampered back inside. In a fit of karma – the temperature was 37 degrees and the wind blew fifteen miles per hour out of the North.
The itinerary included two rounds of golf with my father – one at Fiddlesticks in Fort Myers and the other at Bradenton Country Club with esteemed GCA participant Ben Kodadek.
I first visited Fiddlesticks in 1992. One of my best friends in law school was travelling to Florida for a long weekend to visit his parents and, like the thoughtful friend I am, I invited myself along. Our lodgings that original weekend consisted of a small condominium perfect for two, but with my addition housed six. I showed my appreciation by drinking prodigious amounts of their beer.
Our host was Curt Pearson, a giant bear of a man with a golf swing that defies all scientifically accepted theories of physics and biology. Curt knows how to use that swing, he has a terrific touch with greenside shots that do not rise above knee height and is a ferocious competitor. He also is a person who speaks his mind, but whatever thoughts he had about the impetuousness of a kid inviting himself to stay in such small confines, he held his tongue when he realized the profit opportunity that existed in competing against a shaky midwinter swing that still carried a summer handicap.
After that experience, Curt invited me back time and time again. He also purchased a very nice and rather large house on the golf course. I have no doubt that those two occurrences were related. Curt is now 83 and his handicap has grown to absurd numbers but his scorecard always seems to read at least “1 up” when he plays with me.
Fortunately for my pocketbook, Curt injured himself this year and could not play. He nonetheless found us a willing partner and followed us around the course, “helpfully” pointing out the water hazards along the way.
For me, the Long Mean course at Fiddlesticks represents the best of Florida housing community golf. As its name suggests, the course provides ample challenge and hosted the 2010 US Women’s Senior Amateur Championship. It has served as the practice ground for a number of tour professionals over the years. Even on this weekend, at least one member of the Senior Tour could be found in the clubhouse, no doubt getting ready for the event in Naples the following week.
For those that consider “Florida housing community golf” to be the lowest form of the game, I advise you to relax. Fiddlesticks presents interesting strategic and shot making challenges that tempt and thrill all classes of player. The flowers and ponds are artificial, but then again so is the concept of playing golf on swampland. The birds are fantastic, and most rounds also include a lesson in how a different species finds food. Furthermore, where else will you find a sight like this:
Focusing on the golf alone, the Long Mean presents challenges that are difficult, but only if one overestimates his abilities. Often, a conservative play will result in a lower score. The challenge has only increased with changes to the grass on the greens – making them extremely fast, very firm and with enough grain to confound a northern visitor.
The 15th is one of my favorites. The hole measures 373 yards from the blue tees and could be classified as a Cape. It provides the classic heroic alternatives off the tee associated with the Mid-Ocean version of the hole. A conservative bail out can result in a 200 yard approach. An extremely aggressive drive can get one within 100 yards of the green. The fairway is very wide on the left but narrows as one takes a more aggressive line off the tee.
The reward for an aggressive tee shot is ample as the approach is extremely demanding – to a small green that juts into the water and slopes significantly from left to right. An overly conservative tee shot not only increases the length of the approach, but also presents a less attractive angle to the green with bunkers and slope protecting all but a very accurate shot:
My father hit the perfect tee shot, only to pursue a unique strategy on the approach – a shank. At least I won that hole.
I always look forward to playing the fifteenth but probably enjoy this view looking back the best. It means I have survived:
The ninth hole would receive howls of protest from many GCA participants. It is an island green on a par four of 388 yards (blue tees). It features a forced carry approach of approximately 100 yards but most often in the 120-150 yard range after a well placed tee ball. Tee shots out of position wind up in waste areas on the left or trees on the right. The green is large but contains enough slope that two-putting is a significant challenge if one does not place the approach near the hole.
View from the tee:
Often, matches are decided by who hits the fewest iron shots in the water. Hence, the decision to lay-up or hit a heroic approach when out of position off the tee is usually a difficult choice. Laying up is usually the right call but a difficult one to make when it seems entirely possible to have a ball go under a limb, climb high in the air and land softly in the middle of the green. My father decided the latter approach was the reasonable one even though he has never hit a shot of that nature in his entire lifetime. I prevailed on the hole – one ball in the water against two for him and managed a draw on the front nine (our second).
Curt applauds such decisions because they feed both his wallet in bets as well as his true passion – picking golf balls out of the water with the longest golf ball retriever known to humankind.
View of the approach:
While I am glad it is not a template, I enjoy playing the 9th each and every time I visit – whether it results in winning a hole by a score of 8 to 9 or the thrill of making a no stress par, the hole provides a memorable finish.
For those with fixed views on what does and does not constitute “proper golf” I urge you to widen your horizons. I believe the sight of an 83 year old man balancing on fake rocks to capture his eleven thousandth Top Flite reflects as much about the spirit of the game as one thousand hickory shafted golfers navigating around sheep droppings in Scotland.
I highly recommend Fiddlesticks and look forward to returning again someday.