The tournament began Thursday, Feb. 5, and before the end of his round Tiger withdrew. That wasn’t the big news, though. Bigger was the row between me and Billy Horschel, defending FedEx Cup champion. (In a similar vein, a woman attending the tournament called me a “smart-ass” today. Wonder if this role is right for me.)
See, Horschel was playing with Tiger and Rickie Fowler, one of the mega-groups the PGA likes to put together. The 11th hole, on which I was a marshal, was the second hole in their round, having teed off at the 10th. I was in the landing area on the left side of the hole, to help locate balls in the rough and to show, as best I could, where balls might have crossed the hazard marker near the huge and deep ravine just a few yards from my position. I was immediately behind a tree trunk and below the crown of a pine tree (at far right in picture above).
When Horschel hit, the marshal behind him swung the paddle to the left, indicating the flight of the ball. I then heard a sound above, a rustle, and waited to hear the sound of the ball hitting the ground. I never did. As the golfers started coming down the fairway, I went out from the tree and started looking around in the rough. One of the PGA officials (among those who accompany Tiger on his rounds) was first out to me and asked if I had seen the ball. I told him I had not seen the ball, but had heard what I assumed to be the ball hit the tree above me and had seen or heard nothing else. We both looked around in the rough.
Horschel, coming up the fairway, saw us looking around in the rough and then asked me the same question, “Did you see the ball?” I repeated the answer I gave the official. Horschel seemed peeved. “You mean, you were right here under this tree, and you didn’t see the ball?” I gave my answer the third time. He asserted he thought the ball hit the trunk of the tree, 3-4 feet above the ground. I said I had heard no such sound. With a mild harrumph, he joined the larger group now looking for the ball.
As Golf Channel was recording me, head down, scouring the area for the missing ball (below), this guy came along and just “took my space.” What some people will do to get in the limelight!
Actually, as a bunch of us were looking into the ravine, I happened to glance up to check the guy next to me. Oh . . . Tiger. He found a ball, and pointed to it several yards away in the bramble. Horschel came to look, peered down, and, seemingly with disdain, said, “Nah, that’s a Topflite.” As there was no determination as to what happened to the ball, he had to return to the tee and hit again. I believe he ended the hole with a triple bogey 7.
At one point, someone looked up at the tree crown and said something like, You know, it looks thick enough up there that maybe it stayed there. What do you think?
One of the other marshals in our group plays this course regularly and said later he’d seen balls numerous times go into trees and never come out. (Wish I had known that earlier.) I’m pretty sure Horschel’s ball (Titleist, I’m guessing) remains among the foliage. Even Tiger seemed to think it might be up there.
Had to put all this excitement aside, of course, and get back to my marshaling duties. Fog had delayed the tournament start for 90 minutes and pushed back our finishing time until about 4:30, which meant terrible traffic coming home. Left the house at 6:45 am, returned at 6:30 pm. After taking care of the dog, fixing dinner, having a beer, I caught some Larry-itis and fell asleep in my chair.
Today went much better, in terms of both weather and timing. I spent all day behind the tee, signaling the direction of each drive. Today, we had Phil Mickelson play the North Course. No problems with his threesome. He missed the cut, so the tournament will be missing its two biggest names over the weekend. (Tournament officials and concession folks are totally crying.)
Okay, so why did this woman get fresh with me? I had a little bit of double duty, monitoring a rope line between the 10th green and 11th tee. People could come up a certain point and no further. She, a woman of a certain age 🙂 and not unattractive, came up to the rope and asked me, “So, can I go beyond here . . . ever?” “Ever?”, I responded. “Not until the tournament’s over.” She took a few steps, turned around, and said, “Smart-ass.” Smiling.
Torrey Pines is under a flight path from Marine Corps Air Station Miramar (as a Naval Air Station, it was the location of “Top Gun.”) The Marines do not take notice of the tournament, nor do they employ noise abatement techniques. It has always struck me as a bit ridiculous to hold up my hands, asking for silence as a golfer putts, for example, as jets scream overhead. Depending on the time of day, they may come, in pairs or one following soon after another, in bunches of three or four flights, separated by a couple of minutes. A day may see 15-20 flyovers. Here’s one, which gives you only a sense of the noise, etc. This is using a wide-angle lens, so the planes appear closer in reality.
We had a much more sedate flyover yesterday.
On to the weekend! Look for me on the 11th hole, a par 3, with glorious background shots of hang-gliders, etc. We’ll see what trouble I can get into now!
