Cog Hill's famous Dubsdread course is where the Western Open was played from 1991-2006, and where the BMW Open will be played this year (and was played for 5 of the past 6 years,) Most important course, etc.. etc... etc...
It is one of the only places where the pros play that is open to the public.
Well, that is Course #4 of the 4 courses (18 holes each,) but we played course #3, which is famous for water and lovely greens.
My dad was a big golfer. Most of you have never met my dad (he died in 1995, complications due to smoking... cancer of pretty much everything, etc...) He loved golfing. Somehow I got the bug from him, and some of the best days we had were golfing together when I was in 8th grade through high school.
I guess it helped that I was a pretty good golfer. I tried out for the Freshman Golf Team at Marist High School, made the team, and got bored practicing putting on our first practice meet, so quit the team (although I found out later the coach really wanted me on varsity, since I was hitting so well at the ripe old age of 13.) Practice was boring. (This is the difference between professionals and amateurs... the professional continues going even though he is bored as crap... It is a mindset, not just because you are making $$ at something.) I hated practice.
I got a job caddying at Ridge Country Club, for the princely sum of $6.50/round. A round could take a good 4 hours when play was slow. Nothing like that $1 tip, too.. thanks, Mr Successful Business Man for the wad of ca$h!
Actually, that is just sarcasm coming out. Most of the guys (and gals!) would hire out the caddies and we learned a ton on the course. We would show up at 0530, get slotted for a spot on the roster, and then play foozball until we were called out (This is where I first started playing fooz regularly, it is a very common table in the caddyshack.)
I was a "B" caddy, #330 (amazing some things you remember. Of course, I answered to "330, up!" probably 200 times that first summer.) We would do a fast round with the early birds, and then usually follow that up with another round with the noon crowd (on weekdays, business peeps skipping out at lunch for a sandwich which turned into a 3+ hour round of golf.)
My dad was a member at the club, too, so after 2 sweaty rounds of humping bags around the grass I would take a break and go jump in the pool. After 5PM, children of the members could play a round for free, so I would usually grab a "Caddy Bag" (Driver, 3-5-7-9 Irons, Putter) and go play a round on my own or with one of the Cunninghams or Ed Hayes.
So three rounds of golf... on a slow day... with a swim break in the middle. Do that for a full summer, and you'll be a relatively wealthy little 13 year old who knows his way around a golf course.
My second year caddying, I was promoted to "A" Caddy, and answered to #161. I caddied an early tournament for Don Birmingham, and he won. The following week, he requested me, and he won... a big 2 day tourney... again. He gave his lucky caddy a $100 tip (woohoo!), and I was promoted to Honors Caddy #60. (Honors went from 1-60, A from 61-180, and B from 181+, if I remember right.) If you were promoted to Honors, someone else was demoted to A, usually pushing a slackard to B. Honors Caddy was a big deal. It was based on reports from the members, being requested, etc... etc... They used to actually keep track of all these things.
Realize, this was back in 1981-1984. Nobody who was a decent golfer at a country club used a cart. You always walked. It is a walking sport. Although, for the guys who used carts, you got a caddy for 2 golfers, so you would wash golf balls, clean clubs, and 'fore'-caddy. This was running ahead of the golfers as they went to the next tee, so you could be downrange and spot their shots when they landed in the rough, etc. You could also measure off distances (to this day I can take a pretty regular 1-yard stride) to the pin, and if there was a big back-up at the tee you could even wrangle a nap.
This is stream-of-consciousness, so I'll add something else. I noticed that old habits die hard. Today, I was judging golfers around us by how they positioned themselves around the greens, on the tee, etc. For instance, on the tee, you always stood at least 2 or 3 lengths in front of the golfer hitting the ball. (not in the direction the ball travels, but directly in front of their body, if they stood up straight and looked forward.) You can sense someone within a few bodylengths behind you, and that would cause a player to jerk his swing. You also froze from the moment the golfer finished practice swings til the ball was gone and away. Little motions are caught by the eye, and cause the swinging golfer to flinch. On the greens, you don't step in the path that a golfer's ball will most likely take, you don't let your shadow cross it, and you also stop moving when a golfer is ready to putt. Little things, but I could tell people who had certainly never been a caddy!!
Caddy Golf... It was a great thing. We would just take a pocketfull of golfballs and a 2-iron and maybe a 7 iron, and play the entire course. You can putt with a 2-iron, and if you flare out your grip, opening the club face, a 7 makes a passable pitching wedge. Gives you all kinds of control. My long iron game is still the best part of my playing. Today I was taking shots with a 2- and 3- iron that my father-in-law was taking with a 5-wood (which are not wood, anymore.)
Which is something that I want to complain about. I always played with wood "woods." Today, they are made of metal, have humongous clubheads, and all go "Ping!" when you hit your shot. OMG, I hate that sound! There are very few things like the sound of a true wood clubface connecting with a golf ball. All those metallic pings flying around the course made me think of college baseball, and that horrible aluminum bat sound. Ugh... I guess they are so much better, but still... yuck.
Where was I....
So my dad loved to golf. The way they 'handicap' a course, is they take the 18 holes, and they are rated toughest to easiest. So, the hardest hole on a course (not necessarily the longest, but usually one of the longer holes) will have a rating of "1." That means that if you are a "1" handicap, that is the only hole you get a stroke on. That continues down to 18, the 'easiest' hole on the course.
My dad was a 24-26 handicap. That means that on a par 72 course (pretty standard,) he could shoot up to a 98 and basically be 'even' with the golf course. The hardest hole at Ridge Country Club was #4. #1 was a straight par 4 away from the clubhouse, #2 was a little chipper of a par 3, Hole #3 came westbound along 103rd Street down the hill, and hole #4 was southbound along the railroad tracks on Sacramento Ave. (this is all from memory... I knew this course like the back of my hand at 13 years old.) My dad had never made par on Hole #4. He was just not a consistent enough player. It was a long par 4, and the train track on the right meant that if you were right handed and prone to 'slicing,' you were 'out of bounds' 7 times out of 10 (smart caddies always went down the left side of the fairways, since you were less likely to get smacked by a golfball. Righties rarely 'pulled,' or went to the left, since there are so many ways to 'slice' a golfball to the right (not turning your hands, open the clubface, lift your head, etc...)
On my best days, I could play to about a 4 handicap (FYI, this was at 15, on the golf course every day. You can get into a Pro-Am with a Handicap like that. God, I hated putting practice, though!) I did get semi-officially rated by the Club Pro, and he gave me that "4." Got me respect from the other caddies (we knew how each other golfed... at least one went on to a Chick Evans Scholarship, which was cool) but made me give up entirely. I was terrified of success, I think. More than likely, being honest about it, I was just lazy. Why do all that putting???
We were in the Father-Son tournament that summer (my best golfing summer,) and we were on hole #4. We were actually shooting par together at that point (It was best ball off the first tee, then alternate shots, with the putter getting the drive on the next tee.) My dad hit a little squirrel chaser that wandered up to barely reach the fairway, but was in the rough on the left. He wanted me to take the 2-iron, but I used a new wood called a "Ginty," which was a wood with a little metal flange at the bottom, so you could use it in the rough.
I smashed the ball... I absolutely crushed it. I popped the ball right up on the runup to the green, giving my dad a little chip shot for pin placement (although the pin was close to his side of the green)
He skulled the shot, hitting it off the toe of his club, sending it flying past the hole, giving me a good 20 foot putt for par.
Ok, if you are not a golfer, you have to realize, that only the pros regularly make shots longer than 6 feet. That is the dreaded 6 foot putt. It is just short enough that you know it should go in, but long enough that there is a LOT of grass between you and the cup. That is why shot placement is so important coming up to the green... shorter putts leave less room for error.
So my dad was really apologetic, but was just happy that we were on the green in 3. Many many times I had caddied for him and had to dig golfballs away from the fence on the right, by the train tracks, etc...
So he said to just get the ball close enough so that he had an easy putt, and we'd be 1 over par, and on to the next damn hole.
I sank it. I dropped it in like it had a little magnet and it just drew the ball right in. I am pretty sure you could hear my dad whooping and hollarin' across most of Chicago (Useless trivia-- highest point in Chicago above Sea Level is at 103rd Street and California, the NE corner of Ridge Country Club.)
We took second place in the tournament (to one of the Cunninghams, I am sure... Bobby, I think.) and my dad just ate it up. It was wonderful.
Some of the best times I had with my dad were on the golf course. Probably one of the reasons why I love a good round of golf (even though I almost never go...) is the memories of my dad being so proud of the way that I played, and having that time with him.. just us.
So I am not nearly that good anymore. I put down my clubs while I was still in high school (summer of 1985 was my last year as a caddy)(so long lucrative golf career, hello penury!.. kidding...) and I can name the times I played golf after that.
Rich's bachelor party (probably 1991)
Jason's bachelor party (in Jamaica, in 1996)
with Nicole's Uncle Klaus, in Germany (2006)
with my father-in-law in Germany (2008)
"" in Chicago (2011)
This morning.
So I am picking up the pace again!
Cheers!
Scott
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