Golf Club Atlas
GolfClubAtlas.com => Golf Course Architecture => Topic started by: Mike Hendren on February 21, 2003, 11:50:45 AM
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To balance the "Most Thrilling Shot" thread: I am haunted by my week push from the fairway on Pebble Beach's 8th and wimp-out off the tee at 18 into the fairway bunker (from which I somehow managed to mail a 3-iron OB). I also vividly recall topping my initial tee shot at the Honors over fourteen years ago, not to mention by double cross into oblivion with a 4-iron at Whistling Strait's recently depicted 17th. I remain most embarrassed by my bladed bunker shot at Beverly's 18th when I desperately needed to get up and down for my personal par of 82. I'm glad my gracious host was not there that day to witness the ball's carom off the clubhouse.
Please share your disappointments in such situations. It is good for the soul. Lack of talent is nothing to be ashamed of.
Regards,
Mike
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Mike, Self-preservation reflexes have closed the neural access to any memory of those shots. Perhaps hypnosis could bring them out, but I see no need to unleash any beasts.
Ok, 16th at Bandon Dunes, many times in many ways.
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I had 16 of them and they were all putts at CPC. Never hit the ball better in my life but the injury to my hand effected the putting most. I think we were on 11 or 13 when one of my teammates oozed with a control frustration "get the ball to the hole" arrrrghhh.
I tried I just couldn't do it but twice. :o
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My most disappointing shot was at Merion #1 from the back tees where an extreme pull beaned 2 blue-blooded old bats. Wish I would have gotten more.
>:(
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With an opportunity for a heroic shot on 17 on my one and only trip to TOC, I followed a great drive with a badly skulled 3 iron. I would have preferred a triple out of the bunker to the bogey I made.
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On number 8 on my first trip to Pine Valley, I hit my approach into that front, right hand bunker. That wasn't the disappointing shot.
I left my first attempt to get out in the bunker. That wasn't the most disappointing shot.
My most disappointing shot was when my host, who I had met two hours before on the first tee, turned away for a split second, and I---trying to just get out of the way and end this embarrassment of a hole---got out on my second sand shot and hit the poor gentleman square in the back.
Obviously, the man never invited me to Pine Valley again. That was my most disappointing shot.
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At the British Open in 2000 I left my first putt on #18 at TOC about 6-7 feet short (which I had to make to win by 9 and complete my first career Grand Slam).
That was embarrassing.
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Easy...I topped my tee shot into the hedges on #1 at Cypress Point. The whole round didn't go very well except for par par on 15 & 16.
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Standing on the tee at the first hole on The Old Course, prior to a practice round for the Autumn Medal, we were talking about Ian Baker-Finch and his amazing OB left and how was it possible to be so far off line.
At my turn to play I had a graceful practise swing, emulating Ernie Els, and promptly hit the ball a mile on a bone hard fairway toward the corner of Pilmuir Links Road, the burn and the white OB stakes. I was out by a foot. The trouble was that I didn't know I was OB until I had walked the 300 plus yards to the ball. I picked up and slunked past the players at the 18th tee feeling a real twit.
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Raining. Cold. Wind howling. Early November at The Old Course.
Beautiful drive on the Road hole. Just into left rough. 5-iron (I think) into right-hand pin.
Hit the ground about four inches behind the ball. A shot fatter than I am! Came up 35-40 yards short.
"Aye," said Andy, the pensioner and part-time caddie with whom I was playing, and who had led me around the links all day, "that was your worst shot of the day."
Aye.
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Indulge me while describe the most disappointing shots
The first time I played at Pine Valley, I was cruising around in decent shape through the 13th. I smoked my drive on 13, and because it was so burnt out it ran to the split in the fairway. On the walk to the ball, my caddy was telling me the story of Jack's first trip around PV. When he got back to the clubhouse everybody asked him what he thought of 13, to which he replied "its a pretty big green to be hitting 7-iron into" which was more of an expression of Jack's length than anything else. What does my caddy hand me when we get to my ball? yup, 7 iron, whereupon i deadblock it behind the small tree to the right of the green. Luckily I make a pretty good recovery through the branches of the tree and escape with a bogey. But my confidence is clearly shaken.
At 14 i become positively unglued. With the flag up front I dump my tee shot short, and then try to get cute with a sandwedge only to end up in the same watery grave. I finally take the safe route - way over the the green to the back bunker. This is before their recent tree clearing program, and i couldn't make a swing at the ball. Back to the watery grave, redrop in the bunker, and finally make it to the green. Two putts later I was the proud owner of a "Moose" (hands spread attached to head, indicating a "10").
My friend/host was getting quite the kick out of my misery, and had sent his caddy out to 15 tee to reposition the markers so they point to 16 green. When we walk to the tee, my host turns to me and says, "just another little short par 3." Weary from my drubbing on the prior hole, I peer toward the 16th green thinking it must be a 300 yard carry, oblivious to the remainder of the 15th hole. I thought to myself, this must be why everybody thinks this place is so tough. My caddy handed me my driver and I took 3 cuts, each with twice as much strength as the last, and watched as each ball splashed down in the middle of the pond.
Unable to contain themselves, the rest of my group erupted in laughter and let me in on the ruse. I was on the verge of tears. I had somehow added 8 extra strokes in relation to par, after playing the first 12 in 4 over, and had lost 6 balls in the last 1.5 holes. I was utterly broken, and in the remaining four holes, i would add another 8 strokes above par. My visions of a sub 75 round in my first trip to PV, had nightmarishly turned into a 90.
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Pull-topped my 1st tee shot at MPCC and Plainfield when meeting some GCA guys for the first time. So much for a good first impression. :P
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Most disappointing shot on a renowned hole, huh?
I do write posts on Golfclubatlas that can be exceptionally long but frankly I don't have the time for all the answers to this question--it'd take way too long.
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As I have noted before, I was surprised to find the wind direction at Cypress to be in your face on 15 and a cross wind on 16.
So, standing on the tee on 16, debating between driver and 3-wood, I select the driver with the assumption that I won't hit it perfectly, nerves and all you know. So what do I do ... dead solid perfect, best drive of the day at the wrong time ... I think the ball was half-way to Hawaii ... but at least I got it there ...
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Mike Hendren,
I hadn't slept in about 30 hours and had just gotten off of an airplane that had been delayed due to weather that I had been on for 10 hours, then drove straight to St Andrews, where I missed my tee time, due to the flight delay.
To make matters worse, the night before as I was packing, I jumped over the clothes I had layed out on the floor and broke my toe on a chair leg.
After taking two hours to convince the starter to let me play, he finally joined me up with three locals on rather abrupt notice. Without benefit of a warm up, I teed it up, happy to have been given a second chance at TOC.
As I addressed my ball, a friend said to the starter,
"watch him hit this", and I proceeded to hit it so far
out-of-bounds, right, that it defied the laws of physics.
But, it seemed to relax me, and I went on to play an enjoyable and low scoring round.
Carrying my own bag, with a freshly broken toe, I never felt a thing for 18 holes, until after the round was over, then, it hurt a bit. It wasn't until days later that I figured out that taping the broken toe to the other toes relieved the discomfort. But, I wouldn't trade the experience, broken toe and all, it was great, just a little embarassing on the 1st tee.
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Only time around at Pebble. Had only pulled or hooked one drive all day, stand up on 18, and promptly hook drive into the Pacific. Thankful for lateral hazard walk out to approximate crossing of hazard line. Wait a second, partner on double-bag is with caddie on far right of hole, have to run across to get another ball. Aim a little right with 3-wood, promptly pull-hook one in ocean again. Go up and drop, hitting 5, end up with snowman and unpleasant aftertaste, despite string of 5 straight pars on front 9. Also 3-putted both par 3's on back for bogey. Was on green or fringe on all par 3's (when was old #5, an underrated hole, IMO).
Also took snowman on #18 at CPC. What is it with finishers out there for me?
Topping tee shot on #1 at Bethpage (Black) in front of crowd wasn't much fun. Had no warmup, as I lucked into empty tee time with 3 other walk-up singles.
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17th hole at the National Golf Links of America
My playing partners bail out short to the right but I blast one of my best drives all time. It hangs forever against the backdrop of the Atlantic Ocean and finally clears the wasteland and rolls up about 60 yards from the green. So, I stroll up and shank a half-sandwedge 90 degrees right into an unplayable lie in a big bush.
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First time I played TOC I was 17 years old and a nationally ranked junior golfer in the U.S. My dad and I get paired with two other Americans that took caddies while my dad and I huffed our own bags.
Before we teed off my dad and I were taking practice swings and I overheard the caddies of our playing partners talking. They saw that my dad and I had decent swings and they asked us our handicaps. My dad said we were both scratch and then I noticed they were betting on us like we were horses.
So my dad hits his tee shot off the first tee perfectly down the middle and then I get up and proceed to skull-hosel a 1-iron almost out-of-bounds. That wasn't my most embarassing shot. I get to my ball and proceed to air mail the 1st green with a 9-iron into knee high fescue.
I cross the burn and start to search for my ball behind the green. After a minute both caddies start helping me when I couldn't find the ball. Finally, the caddie that took my dad in the bet, said "Found it lad". I said, "Gee, great, thanks." He says, "Don't get too excited lad, you got a shit lie". I walk up and my ball is sitting on top of a pile of dog shit so big that I think it the dog crapped twice on top of itself for good Scotish measure. I look up at the caddie and he's got a (no pun intended) shit eating grin on his face. He then says, "I know you Americans like to bump your balls but here we play it as it lies. Welcome to Scotland lad." Wanting to do as the Romans, I proceed to spray dog waste over my entire body with a poorly attempted 60 degree wedge flop shot that moved 5 feet and I made a humbling double-bogey 6 on one of the easiest holes on the course. Then the caddie has the nerve to say on the 2nd fairway, "You Americans and your silly flop shots". I almost fell over at this point. He definitely rattled me and I never recovered from a score standpoint. My dad drummed me, the caddie won his bet and I'm left with this story.
Sorry for the few curses in there but that is how it was and I didn't want to censor the story.
Jeff F.
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It is a long and embarssing story, but imagine being stupid enough to put it in Willie Cambell's bunker not once but twice! Once off the tee on Sea Heatherick (#14 at Prestwick) and then again at #16 trying to drive the green.
Now imagine being stubborn enough to refuse to play out sideways - even after hearing the caddies recount the tale of Campbell blowing the Open by taking three to get out - and do the same. Not once, but twice in the same round.
I was two-under after 13 and swaggered to the tee like Mr. Big Shot. My caddie only said one thing: "Whatever ye do lad, don't go left, that is Willie Campbell's bunker over there and she is a fearsome one she is."
By the time the smoke cleared, I had to roll in a 12 foot putt for an 80.
I still remember the sound of his coarse voice like it was yesterday:
"Dammit lad, did I not tell you NOT to hit it there?"
Head case.
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I once had a 20-foot biridie putt on the Postage Stamp and putted it into the right hand bunker. I eventually sank a 4-footer for 11. At one point in the interim I was further from the hole than when I started, somewhere out on the 7th fairway, after a tragically failed pre-mickelsonian attempt to invent the "flop shot."
Then there was my first round at Pebble Beach when I stood on th 18th tee and my "friend" Mike said: "Hey, Rich! Isn't that the same ball you teed up on #1?"..............
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8) ;) :D
Having hit so many clunkers of my own, on so many good holes I am unable to single out justt one.
But, I can live vicariously though one of my "clients" in my looper days at Pine Valley.
For three straight years at the perilous #5, I caddied for a good amateur player who was determined to hit a one iron (we all know Trevino's line about one irons, and it is perfect here).
Over the course of seven attempts on #5, this good player alternatively hooked , sliced, sclaffed, skulled and did almost every unmentionable with this club, on this great hole. Not being a club picker but rather an analyst (wind, yardage elevation, etc) I did everything I could to talk him into another club, as the 1 iron did not fit, particularly as his memory of past atrocities must be forever in the forefront of his thought process. However, I was wont to refuse his choice of club, as to me a good caddie uses guile not force to accomplish his goal.
Ah, redemption!!!!!!!
Upon his eight trip to this great hole,he choose 1 iron to my great chagrin, and promptly launched it dead right. He looked at me and his playing partners and correctly dispatched the offending club to a watery grave, all the while as we were laughing hysterically, he then teed up a four wood and knocked it stony, and played five adequately , if not brilliantly from then on !
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The Road Hole.
I've been spraying my driver all day. No, that's too generous.
I've been flubbing/topping my drive all day into the nearest gorse bush. So my caddie hands me my driver, even though I dost protest, and tells me to make a good swing. So I reverse shank it 45 degrees left into Cheape's bunker.
He then hands me my 3-wood (as a practice shot) and I fire a grand slice onto the roof of the hotel.
Getting to Cheape's, same caddie hands me an 8-iron. "Knock it out far enough to reach the green with the next shot. Bogey's respectable". So I give it a mighty swing and the ball never clears the lip, dropping back in to depths. Two lob wedges later, I'm back on grass. Topped 4 iron, pitch, two putts, and I card an 8. (Plus a two-stroke penalty for the practice shot, an even 10, but by then I don't care.)
I shoudda hit it into the Road Hole Bunker on purpose.
Stupid caddie... ;)
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Interesting thread....brings back many fond memories.
One real negative remembrance I have happened on my first trip around PV in 1977. I was playing well (in the area because of playing the the USGA Amateur at Aronomick that year) and came to the 12th hole, 3 under par. I drove perfectly and had an 80 yd. SW shot to a pin at the very back side of the green. I hit a perfect shot (I thought) that landed 6" from the cup, too one big bounce, tried to draw back to the hole, but by mere inches got caught up in the back fringe and ultimately trickled down into the very small pot bunker behind the green. Disappointed, I entered the bunker to find that the bunker was unraked and I was deep in a footprint with a 5+ wall in front of me. I couldn't get it out and it rolled back into my footprints. Needless to say the shot just got more and more impossible as I just tried to hack the ball out. (It was impossible for anyone, believe me) After 5 tries and no real hope, I just picked it up. That was really discouraging and needless to say, I am not a fan of not raking bunkers, at least those close to the green. I was no more than 15 from the cup and had absolutely no chance of finishing the hole. I'll never forget that experience.
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Uhhhh.......
Do I really have to say it?
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Doug,
How could you miss that little putt to win the Open Championship? Shame on you!
Jean
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I think it would have to be Larry Mize's chip on 11 at AGNC.
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A couple years ago I teed it up on the first hole at Prestwick, hoping to make up for my lousy 95 in 30-40 mph winds 10 years previous, my only score higher than 90 during nearly two weeks in Scotland. It was equally windy, with intermittent squalls of that wonderful rain they have over there that feels like sleet needling into your skin, but I felt confident that my swing was working well enough to face the challenge, having scored 77 on Turnberry the day before in 20 mph winds, which would have been lower had I been putting.
I open with a perfect 4 iron into the best possible position, and arrive to find my ball in a divot. Uh oh, could be one of those days. I try to erase those thoughts from my mind, but in trying to avoid a thinned shot shooting through the green and against the wall, I hit way behind it and leave it in one of the deep bunkers ~50 yards short of the green. I eventually end up with a triple bogey 7. On the short 2nd, I put it into a greenside bunker, take two to get out, and three putt for another triple. Wonderful. After a nice little 4i/7i to the hollow behind the 3rd I nearly flop it in for an eagle but settle for a birdie, and think I may be back on track. That's short lived as I push not one but two balls into the deep gunk right of the hazard on 4 attempting to drive the green, and after finding neither I finish that with an 8 and its all over for me. I limp in with a humbling 102, the first triple digit score this 5 handicap has had in perhaps 20 years.
At North Berwick the next day I go around in 76. Strange game.
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I was thinking it was the tee shot on the eighth hole at Pebble Beach -- an awkward blind layup. But then I realized people were describing their own disasters.
I've hit a lot of bad shots, but the one that stands out: two down to Urbina with three to play on his first visit to Cypress Point. I laid up perfectly ... he went for the green and landed in three-putt territory ... and I stepped up and shanked my pitch into the ocean!
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I had 6 feet for birdie two weeks ago on #17 at the TPC Sawgrass. Missing the par putt coming back would go down as the most disappointing (after hitting the green!).
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Since I was a kid reading the Sports Illustrated article previewing the 1971 US Open at Merion, it had always been my favorite course in the world, mostly through osmosis.
When I moved to the Philadelphia area in the mid-80s, my drives around the property only solidified my opinion.
A few years back I finally get to realize my ultimate dream and I find myself standing on the renowned first tee with other GCA'ers. Reading "Colonel Sanders"'s post above, I can only say that I'm fortunate to be lefthanded....
My backswing, which probably didn't make it to "hip-high", resulted in a screaming, long-iron, patio-table-high, pull top-hook, which died in the high grass about 100 yards off the tee. Had I played the same shot from the correct side of the ball, I'm sure that the membership rolls would have been significantly reduced.
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Two summers ago I had the opportunity to play 36 holes at Oak Hill East, site of this summer's PGA Championship, on a pefect June day. In the morning, I played OK, but of course it's a difficult track the first time around.
In the afternoon, playing from the tips, I got off to a good start, parring the first few holes...then the next few...and I stood on the 17th tee having parred the first 16 holes of the golf course.
On 17, I hit a poor approach into the front-left bunker, a poor bunker shot well short of the hole - and made the 20 footer for par.
I blasted a perfect drive on 18, and with the pin front right, I hit a 7-iron straight at the hole...and it came up 3 feet short of the green in the short rough. I hit the chip too hard, and had 8 feet for my 18th consecutive par on one of the country's most legendary courses.
It slid past the edge.
Of all the bogeys and worse that I've made, both in and out of tournaments, I'm not sure if one has bothered me more than that.
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Every one of my eight second shots at TOC #1 have ended up in the Swilcan Burn.
But they've all been balanced by extraordinary bounces, and all around good luck elsewhere on the course, but that's another thread.