THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, July 15, 1995 TAG: 9507150503
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C4 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JIM DUCIBELLA, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 163 lines
Mr. Richard Kingsmill
c/o The Hereafter
Williamsburg, Va.
Dear Mr. Kingsmill:
When my supervisor commanded me to write about a day in the life of a golf hole, you instantly came to mind. You are so closely tied to a sporting event here each July, primarily because someone years ago was enchanted by the sound of your last name.
If you aren't familiar with ``golf,'' it's an often silly game. Those who play carry a bag of sticks they use to hit a small ball at a stick embedded in a hole in the ground, hundreds of yards away. Eighteen ``holes,'' as they are known, constitute a ``golf course.''
Those particularly adept at getting the ball into the hole in the fewest strokes win money during competitions. You wouldn't believe how much.
You also would not believe the thousands of people who spend time watching these competitions, even in Williamsburg's oppressive July heat.
You're wondering what this has to do with you. Twenty years ago, a brewery hired an architect to oversee construction of a golf course near your property. They call it the River Course at Kingsmill, and it is so grand, an annual competition is staged here worth $1.1 million.
To me, the most pleasing hole is the 17th. It runs beside the James, where Col. Lewis Burwell created a slip and ferry landing that served as a port for Williamsburg and the first custom house for the colonies.
Actually, the spot on the hole where the players hit their first shots is a few yards above the landing. The stick they aim for is perhaps 20 yards below old Moody's Tavern.
When they started working the land to create this course, people were astonished at the irony of what they found. The brewery was building a hole on land brimming with beer and wine bottles.
They figure that after crews unloaded their cargo, they walked up to the tavern. Bottle in hand, they'd walk back down to the river, then discard their empties on the spot. By the way, much the same thing will happen this weekend.
Millions of people play golf, and everyone has tried to roll his ball on a type of grass called poa annua.
A couple of men who know the history here tell me poa annua isn't indigenous to North America. They say, quite seriously, that it was part of a bale of hay transported here via Scottish ship, unloaded at Jamestown in the 1600s. It then floated down the James to the 17th hole and took root in the New World.
The care that goes into maintaining this hole would amaze. Several hours before the first player arrives, dozens of men are working feverishly.
At 7:30 a.m., Jason Arthur and Robert Scheuer arrive. They will rake the sand traps that have been built beside the greens, with Scheuer's rake digging into the soil no more than one-eighth of an inch.
Five minutes later, four more workers come. Jason Baxter, Paul Salvatore, Chris Dudd and Chris Moffett skim dew off the grass, then trim it to approximately one-35th of an inch with specially designed tools.
Then Williamsburg resident Brett Burks rides up in a machine that flattens the grass so the ball rolls true.
The gala moment comes at 8:06. Terry Holston - or T.V. Terry, as he calls himself (that's another letter) comes to dig that day's hole. It is 40 paces from the front of the green, 28 paces from a predetermined spot to the side of the green.
The holes Holston cuts are approximately 8 inches deep, inside of which he drops a white circular container. He then sprays the exposed top 2 inches with white paint.
``Best hole I ever cut,'' he crows when he's done, causing his friends to laugh.
Next comes a man named Slugger White. He works for the company that oversees this tournament - the Professional Golf Association. He picks where the next day's hole is to be placed. After he decides, he marks it for Holston with a tiny speck of white paint. He has done this for 14 years.
When White leaves, the first marshalls arrive. They are volunteers whose job it is to control fans.
George Baxter, who coordinates the morning shift, has watched over the 17th hole since the tournament started, 15 years.
``I guess we have the most fun of any group out here because of the view,'' Baxter, of Colonial Heights, says. ``But we've also got the water.''
By that he means the boats in the water. The player the club pays to represent it, Curtis Strange, is also a fisherman with many friends. Some own boats. During the tournament, they dock by the 17th hole and have been known to follow in the inebriating footsteps of those merchant seamen at Moody's. This raucous little band calls itself Curtis' Strange Navy.
Sometimes, they try to wade ashore, which is when Baxter's men must shoo them away. During a storm last summer, several women in the group stripped and motored through the water half-naked. (Women in America haven't been the same since winning the vote in the 1920s).
Baxter's friend Jim Cates has helped marshall the 17th hole for 14 years. He assessed the wind Friday, which was blowing off the river at as much as 10 mph, then predicted that few of the golfers would play their shots to the green right to left.
He couldn't have been more correct, though play didn't start that way. The first golfer to play the hole was Dave Stockton Jr. He struck a masterful 6-iron right over the flag. That happened at 8:56 a.m.
The vast majority of the 150 players chose not to begin their shots at the water's edge and let the wind draw it to shore and the hole. Consequently, there were many second shots hit from the deeper grass off the green.
Golf is most enjoyably played in solitude. If nothing else, it enhances one's ability to concentrate. Although those who play for money crave an audience, this tournament frequently affords them more solitude than they'd like.
Friday's crowds at 17 didn't start growing until a young Virginian named Carl Paulson arrived. And he gave the gallery much to cheer when he struck one of the shots of the day, flipping the ball into the hole on a roll from a spot off the green, scoring what we call a birdie-2.
Ernie Gonzalez struck an even better stroke, hitting the flagstick on the hop with a shot from 180 yards. Typical of the style of game he plays, however, he needed two more strokes to get the ball into the hole from 3 feet.
As Robert Gamez, Mike Reid and Jeff Sluman played on the 17th green, the crowd began to grow. They were rushing to get a better view of the next players, Gallagher, Mark McCumber and Payne Stewart.
Dozens became hundreds, then hundreds became thousands when Strange, Lanny Wadkins and Jay Haas came to 17 minutes later.
The crowd spent much of the rest of the day doing what those seamen did - drinking, relaxing, sharing stories with friends, enjoying the day.
For the most part, there were few popular names participating in the tournament this week. They hold this tournament every year the week before the premier event in Great Britain, known as its Open.
That tournament draws a lot of Americans who travel there a week early to prepare for what we call a ``major'' championship. Maybe you are thinking what I am - that those damn Brits continue to torment us poor colonists, even today.
If so, that's the spirit. One day. ...
Sincerely,
Jim Ducibella ILLUSTRATION: BILL TIERNAN
Staff
Paul Salvatore and Jason Baxter cut the 17th green around 7:30 a.m.
in preparation for Friday's play. The greens are trimmed to one-35th
of an inch.
Cody Moore, 1 1/2, of Farmville may have been the youngest fan at
the 17th hole on Friday. He seems more interested in his stroke than
on the pros'.
STAFF PHOTOS BY BILL TIERNAN
[Color Photos]
LEFT: Rosie Whitehorne pours her husband, Grady, a drink of water as
temperatures climbed into the 90s Friday.
FAR LEFT: The 17th hole is a 177-yard par-3 that borders the James
River.
John Penner of Voorhees, N.J., gets a closer look of the action from
above the 17th green. He was in Williamsburg visiting his parents
and decided to take in the tournament.
Marshall Kevin Gates quiets the early morning gallery from a shady
venue as two players prepare to putt.
Members of Curtis' Strange Navy beat the heat in the James River.
Map
by CNB