I’ve played one game of golf in my life. Many years ago, a friend who played golf wanted to take Jack to the ritzy, public golf course on Palos Verde. She didn’t want them to be put with another couple to make a foursome, so I got drafted. I thought I did fairly well for someone who had never held a driver before, and had only played putt-putt golf a few times. But it didn’t go down on my list of things I was desperate to try again.
However, Jack thought I would enjoy walking around the Castle Pines course where the International is being held this weekend. He received four passes because he volunteered. I agreed to go up on Thursday, because I have a horse show (just a fun show) on Saturday, and I need to get my grubby little darling ready for it on Friday. Cleaning boots, saddle and bridle would also be a good thing. I didn’t decide to go up Sunday because I didn’ want to deal with the weekend crowds when I didn’t have to do so.
When he got home from watching the Pro-Am last night, he told me not to walk for exercise this morning: I would get plenty at the course. He was right. I had some vague idea that the proper attire for a golf course was similar to business casual, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. I saw more than one outfit that would have been appropriate for a Hooters restaurant server.
We traveled separately, because Jack’s shift started at one and he won’t be home until late in the evening. After looking over the map, Jack arranged that we should meet at the green of the seventh hole. This was near one of the shuttle dropoff points. I got to the green and watched from a shady spot. It was very odd hearing so many people be so quiet. I thought the attendance was very good for the first day of the pro tournament.
I waited for nearly half an hour, and began to get worried. I finally decided to start walking back to the tee box of the eighth hole, in case I had mistaken the meeting place. I met Jack on the way. I had been in the right place, but Jack had been slowed down because he had to stop frequently to keep from disturbing the players.
We decided to just meander around instead of trying to follow a player, or pick one spot and stay there. Castle Pines is a lovely golf course, and I regretted that they banned cameras. The theme of the course is hummingbirds, and the formal greens and fairways were surrounded with wildflower meadows. Huge mansions were set in the pines around the various parts of the golf courses, but despite being fairly densely built up, it seems very quiet and peaceful.
When we could talk without disturbing anyone, Jack explained the finer details of what was going on. I know the basic rules of the game, but didn’t realize that the International uses a different scoring system than most pro tournaments. There were several names playing that even I recognized. One can’t live with a golfer without picking up a few things.
Overall, I had the same reaction that I have to a professional baseball game: a sort of enforced relaxation that is not so much boring as restful. Of course, I like watching hunter rounds as well. Despite the jumping, a well-done hunter round is about as exciting as watching a turtle in its aquarium.
I wish I could have taken my camera, though. I could have snapped some great photos.