Putting aside my megaphonic rant at Choi-boy on the chick thread, I’ve long tried to figure out a solution to the problem of presenting an appropriate challenge for women, seniors and youngsters. My sympathies grow as the length of my truncated backswing continues to shrink.
We’ve already discussed to death punitive architecture and/or alternate tees far enough forward to parrot the intended shot values and sequence of longer hitters. Uncle George and I once had a competitive match with the great Charlie Ferguson at Fishers Island; the 81 year-old carded his age from tees specifically positioned to provide their older members a shot at enjoying the game.
Upon my return I jumped into a cart with our buttonholed Superintendent (John Fleming R.I.P.), jabbering enthusiastically that I’d discovered the fountain of youth for my father and his coterie - most of whom had traded in their golf clubs for domino tiles out of frustration.
John took a pad full of notes and very quietly went to work. To my dismay - although most of those tees are still in play on the Lake Course today - none of my father’s friends would play the newly christened “Senior Markers” because they were green - and in front of the red (read: women’s) tees.
For you dwellers along America’s eastern wall, I am aware some clubs (like NGLA) designate red tees as the back markers; on the left coast, “red” means girl’s tees - and that bunch of tough old birds from the Greatest Generation would have none of it.
Back in my caddy days at Burlingame Country Club, a group of lady members adopted me into their group, apparently unaware their favorite bag toter was a weed smoking potty mouth with a particular fondness for their perky blouses and tanned tennis legs.
Their upper-crust husbands - which included the taciturn Der Bingle - found my shoulder length locks and chatty nature grating at best. The hottie spouses must have found my smarmy doting and discursive patter amusing, although I drove our Caddie Master John Shanley absolutely bat shit.
As 80% of my rounds were packing for the ladies golf section (or a regular foursome of older men in their mid-70’s), it gave me a chance to thoroughly observe the game through the eyes of weaker players; make no mistake though, these gals would still be considered good players today.
It got to the point where I began to “see” the course through the eyes of my players and learned where all the kick points and ground-game opportunities were. It always struck me the game must get terribly boring hitting driver-4 wood-short iron-putter to most of the par-4s and the same on par-5s - except add in one more fairway wood.
With the exception of the ultra-short par-3 ninth hole at BCC, the rest of the one-shotters are either impossibly long or feature a putting surface not designed to accommodate the ball flight off a lower trajectory bat. They were playing a completely different game as me - on a layout with hopelessly inappropriate strategic arrangements and geometries.
I don’t think a modern day Marion Hollins is going to ride in with a pot of gold and resurrect Women’s National Golf Club - which might actually inspire some affirmative rethinking of golf architecture for women and seniors.
On that subject, it has always seemed odd to me - given the billions of discretionary dollars women control in America - why a heavy hitter like Meg Whitman or Carly Fiorina don’t purchase some land and hire an architect to build a golf club for chicks only. If 20% of the golfers are gals, the pool ought to be large enough to support at least one track in every metropolitan area.
Here is my idea which - like the ERC II - would likely lead to some screaming arguments. All the whining about the distance the ball flies has led some to suggest we rein in the engineers and slow down the pellet to keep classic layouts relevant in the modern era.
The manufacturers will forever fight, lobby and sue to keep their arms race going because, like it or not, that is the essence of competition and capitalism - and the genie is out of the bottle.
Everybody pontificates about a standardized tournament ball for Tour Players, but getting the public to accept it - and the various organizations to agree and enforce it - is a fool’s errand. Golf has been thoroughly poisoned by greed, avarice, technology and false promises you can buy a lower score at Golf Mart.
But these challenges to the integrity of our game really only apply to men and highly skilled, elite women. Everybody else needs all the help they can get in terms of making the game more playable - and therefore enjoyable.
Since the ball manufacturers already have a staff of white smocked, clipboard carrying, aerodynamics geek geniuses, why not sic them on coming up with a ball SPECIFICALLY FOR WOMEN AND SENIORS. One that flies drastically further than the current choices available.
Many of the problems presented for women and seniors would be ameliorated. How you determine who gets to play this “superball” (and when), I’ve got no working hypothesis yet. If Constance Havershire can suddenly hit the par-4s in two on a 6200 yard course, it would be like a new life.
There are a thousand arguments against speeding up the ball for a specific segment of the market, but if we are trying to grow the game by stimulating interest in the female demographic, what is the harm?
It might be time to encourage everybody to enjoy the game as they please with the ball that suits them. Otherwise, we can compel architects to design eight sets of tees on every course to accommodate everybody from Tour Players to Senior Women.
Ran may very well ban me from the kingdom as a dangerous heretic, but this solution is better than empty tee sheets and continuing to inflict a deadly dull tape-loop of whack-whack-whack-chip-putt-putt on 25% of the golfing populace.