THURSDAY NIGHT GAME UNDERWAY AT THE HIDEAWAY

Ready to rock n roll

Ah yes, the golf season is truly underway! The first edition of the Thursday Night Quota and Skins Game (QSG) at 

Jeff Ashby

The Hideaway Country Club, with Jeff Ashby at the helm, was teed up this past Thursday April 24^th, and although we weren’t up to half-speed, we still had almost 30 golfers on hand.

You can find just about anyone playing the Thursday Night QSG, and you pretty much did on opening night.  

Of course The Hideaway’s Director of Golf Sean Balliet and our other PGA professional, Dave Bartoe along with

The Hideaway’s Chair of the Greens Committee, Joe Thompson teed it up. We also had Sean Roberts, area representative of Golf Channel and golfnow.com, Curt Conrad Golf Course Superintendent at El Rio Golf Club in Cape Coral, and all sorts of other golf-loving characters with handicaps covering the spectrum.” 

If you aren’t yet aware, the QSG is a 9-hole shotgun competition that happens every Thursday night at 5:30pm at

They must be in the money

The Hideaway Country Club in Fort Myers (unless there’s some maintenance getting in the way), and I have personally seen players walkaway with over $400 earnings. 

It's payout time!

That’s not bad for the paltry sum of $20 ($10 for members) to participate…and that’s not considering the saliva-evoking aroma of free popcorn wafting through the evening air as you approach the clubhouse after the game.

Steph in action at World Am 2013

Oh yeah, before I forget, there's one other...no make that two other things no other game in town has, and that's the best-looking photographer in town, Steph, and of course, me. That's not enough to get you out there? Well heck, at least I gave it the ole college try... 

Chris doing the beverage thing

Some might emphasize the $2 beer that Chris offers as he putt-putts his way around the course on the beverage cart.

Some might focus on the fact that you could hardly find a better way to end your work day. Others may revel in the pristine condition of The Hideaway’s unique track. Me? I like the opportunity to compete at least once every week. Great way to prepare for the World Amateur Handicap Championship at the end of August.

Sean not happy with this one

The really good thing about the Thursday Night QSG, and about golf in general, is that you compete based upon your level of play. Scratch golfers such as Sean Balliet, participates, and if he hadn’t just been presented with his second daughter (“Sienna the Sleepless”), he probably wouldn’t have been so happy to tell me that he fell far short of his point-quota for the day.

I need how many? Chris only needs what?

I was bleeping and moaning about my quota (14 points for a 15 handicap!!!?), but when it came right down to it,

I've got it right here

Sean showed me the evidence on paper, and I really should have made my quota. As it was, I had to tell myself that it’s early in the season, and forgive my meltdown on No.6, or I might just hang up the clubs altogether.

No.6 is a little par-4, a bit uphill, but only 343 yards from the tips (on 

Hideaway No.6- Seriously, it's as uphill as it gets around here

the card; 334 online…which is right Sean?). The online tip advises, “Accuracy is the key to this tee 

This is how close I was after my drive

shot,” and “A good drive is a must here as trees guard both sides of the fairway.” I proceed to hit the best drive I have ever hit on the hole: right in the middle of the fairway with 65 yards, I think Chris said, to the hole.

With the same sand wedge in my hand that I had used to practice 60-yard shots for at least

Smooth back swing
from 60-odd yards

an hour the day before, it was time to get that birdie and a vital four points toward making my quota. I took a nice, smooth practice swing, trying hard to merely envision my target and ignore the mounting anxiety. 

Somewhere during my backswing, it occurred to me that the ball might be a bit too close. Right about then would have been the perfect time to step away and start my routine again. 

In the woods!

I didn’t...start my routine again, I mean. Instead, I shanked that sand wedge on a sharp 45-degree angle, cleanly through one of the holes in the fence, into the thicket, beyond reach or visibility. Yep, the “C-word” that only Johnny Miller dares utter: “Choke!” 

Kip & Charles having a good time

I could describe the rest of the hole, but let’s just say I didn’t score. I believe two of my playing partners, Charles Byrd and Chris Capps, both made par on that hole, from my worse positions than I had found off the tee.

No.7 from the tee

When I delivered a mighty hook off the tee on the next and final hole of the afternoon, the 347-yard-par-4 7^th, it appeared as though the meltdown was thorough and complete. 

Chris Capps lets one fly

Chris smashed his drive down the middle (less than a 100 in), Kip ____ followed in my stead, only along the ground and into the wet stuff, and Charles bombed one down the right side, just inside the fence.

Hideaway No.7 left up the hill

We drove in the direction of my wayward drive, and still smarting from the collapse on No.6, I barely cared if we found it. Ah, but there it was atop the hill, the tree limbs not really in the way, and just the lake, some rocks, and about 137 yards between me and the hole. 

Hideaway No.7 from up the hill

Given the way I’m swinging, a smooth 8-iron would probably just right…and it was. Two putts later, I had recovered from my disaster on No.6 and a poor drive to finish the evening with a par.

At the end of the day, Chris had hit his 12 points right on the number and Charles had hit his seven. Kip and I didn’t quite cut the mustard, but we’ll be back at em next week at 5:30pm at The Hideaway. 

Finishing things off with some tall tales

I’m looking for a better performance from myself next week, and looking forward to the popcorn and brew after the game. No better way to end a Thursday! May all your shots be pleasingly plump…T. A.

HOLE-IN-ONE CELEBRATION AT DOWNTOWN HOUSE OF PIZZA

There’s some elemental, visceral connection between a hole-in-one golf shot and pizza, wings and beer…isn’t there? 

Well that’s what it felt like Thursday evening after my first hole-in-one; I just had to have some pizza and beer, and it had to be with the most important person in my world: Steph.

I’m not sure if it’s some kind of unspoken rule, one of those “man codes” that nobody really talks about yet follows, but I’ve noticed that guys don’t tend to give each other tips out on the golf course. Oh, they seem quite willing to give women more tips than they might want, but not other guys.

Fortunately, my golf buddy Chris breaks the code every now and then, not too frequently mind you, but enough to have helped my golf game over the past few years. Also fortunately, he gives tips about places to eat as well, and he did so in the aftermath of the hole-in-one experience.

No, I hadn’t heard of “Downtown Pizza” (actually “Downtown House of Pizza” I found out later); and since I hadn’t been too thrilled with my right around the corner favorite pizza place, why not try something new…after all this was a totally new experience anyway, right?

I got home, broke the news to Steph, asked if she’d like to do pizza and beer to celebrate (duh!), took a shower, and off we took to…although we didn’t know it yet…our new favorite place for Pizza, Downtown House of Pizza, or DHOP as I like to think of it now.

Although they didn’t have the outdoor window where you could pick up a slice on your way down the street, as we did on the way to or from the Crown Heights pool in Brooklyn when I was a kid, it was reminiscent of those days. 

The aroma of the authentic, real Italian (or Brooklyn Italian anyway) blend of sauce and cheese, the hustle and bustle of the artists behind the counter (well, that’s what they were), the plain practicality of the décor; the variety of dissected pies in the display case, all spoke to me of my childhood experiences of “real New York pizza!”

Funny thing though, here’s a DHOP experience that was so not New York, but at the same time was so New York, that I can’t help but shake my head with a smile. By the time we walked into DHOP, I was starving. After quickly perusing the substantial menu, we placed our order: A jumbo (20-inch) pie, half pepperoni and hamburg, half spinach and mushroom, 10 hot wings (which turned out to be absolutely delicious, even if a bit small), one Sam Adams and one Mich Ultra.

“That’ll be about 20 minutes.” “20 minutes! How am I supposed to hang out amidst all these aromas and visions for 20 minutes without going absolutely insane, as hungry as I was?” I asked Steph, “Should I just buy a slice to hold me over until the pie was done?” 

Well, just a few feet away, Bernice (we didn’t know her name yet), was delving into a hot slice of a cheese pie, and the doggone thing looked so inviting, that I couldn’t help myself.

“Would you mind loaning me a slice of that pie and I’ll pay you back when ours is ready,” I found myself asking. 

That is so not New York City as I remember it, in that you barely even look at other people directly in public places, much less intrude upon their space like I just had. But, at the same time, it was so New York City in that the unexpected can happen at any given moment, and all parties involved will act as though the experience were commonplace.

And that is how if flowed. Bernice just said, “Sure man, grab a slice; I understand,” or words to that effect. Grab a slice I did, and with great gratitude and relish. It was as good as it looked! Fortunately I wasn’t too hungry to share the slice with Steph, and she agreed, that we had found our new pizza home in Fort Myers.

Our order arrived in due time, and we spread it out on the counter, applied the appropriate fixings (gotta have some crushed red pepper and garlic powder), clinked bottles, and dug in. To steal from that ancient Campbell’s Soup commercial, “Mmmm, mmmm good!” I stuffed myself on two immense slices topped off by a few wings, and Steph managed the same with a little help from yours truly.

I ate a couple slices for lunch the next day, and I think my mom ate the last slice today (Sunday), making that a very economical celebratory meal! Oh, by the way, I did offer to pay Bernice and Donna (her dining partner) back for the slice they “loaned” us, but they graciously refused our repeated offers, saying merely, “Pay it forward.” We’d be glad to ladies!

In any event, you can look at the menu yourself to judge whether the prices are good. You can walk into DHOP to determine whether the décor suits your fancy. Most importantly, you can get down there and taste some of the best New York style pizza this side of the G. W. Bridge. 

I know whenever we have something worthy of a pizza-and-beer celebration, perhaps another hole-in-one or maybe winning the World Amateur Handicap Championship, we’ll be sure to find ourselves back at DHOP, and maybe Bernice and Chris would care to join us.

Until next, no foot-wedges allowed…T. A.

HOLE IN ONE TO BEGIN THE SEASON!

Tiger's Eye view, World Am 2013 Day 1

It’s April, and in the life of a tennis-pro-golf-lover in Fort Myers, Florida that means it’s time to break out the golf clubs. After the long hiatus from October through March, and generally the beginning of April, it is with amped up anticipation that I gazed upon my custom-made GigaGolf set last week.

Jon & Tara Parla at Passion Foundation Golf Outing 

When I received the email from Angie Guillette about the 5th Annual Tri-Town Passion Foundation Golf Outing, at Stoneybrook Golf & Country Club on May 16^th, my already elevated excitement about the upcoming golf season spiked upward. 

One of Passion Foundation's covered playgrounds

The event, a very worthy one benefitting the Passion Foundation’s efforts to fight Melanoma, is certainly relevant to tennis pros, and most of us who love the sweet outdoors of Southwest Florida.

Focusing before start of Day 1 of World Am

I had a month to get ready for the event after about a six-month layoff; that should be plenty of time! I was now officially in training for 

Riding along with Craig on Day 1 of World Am at Tiger's Eye

my third trip to the World Amateur Handicap Championship in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina later this summer, and I welcomed any and all opportunities to prepare for my favorite event of all time.

Many of my tennis students and non-golfer friends eye me with quizzical and dubious glances when I express my passion for the game of golf, perhaps the 

T. A. at Aberdeen

same way that I looked at my secretary and grad student some 27 years ago when they chatted excitedly about the game. My skepticism soon morphed into full flown infatuation, but that’s a story for another day.

World Am Day 2 at
Aberdeen Country Club

There’s no adequate way to explain one’s love for golf, it is an experience that can only be understood by a fellow (or sister) lover of the game, and perhaps only those fellow and sister lovers of the game will understand how golf can turn a really sour day into something sweetly special.

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Take yesterday for example, I was late for my first lesson (Sorry Frank...just something about that 7:30 Thursday lesson), when I opened my

T. A. warming up for Day 3 at TPC Myrtle Beach
World Am 2013

equipment shed, I found that some unnamed creep (I have a suspect) had gone into the shed and taken (AKA stole) a racquet and a can of balls. The racquet wasn’t even mine! Sorry Peter, I’ll try to make it up to you.

Coming home at TPC Myrtle Beach World Am Day 3

In any event, it wasn’t a good start to the day on that front, and I’m not even going to comment on the personal side of things. My lessons went ok, but it surely wasn’t a “goose-bump” day (that’s a day when my clients are doing things on court that give me goose-bumps).

Hideaway No.10 I believe

I went home, Steph made me some lunch, I got dressed and went to my place of business and my home golf course, The Hideaway Country Club, which also happens to be just about the prettiest course under 5500 yards from the tips that you are probably ever going to see…at least in our neck of the woods.  

Sean Balliet, Hideaway Head Pro

My first stop was the proshop, where I bantered with our Head Golf Pro, Sean Balliet. Essentially, I checked in and we had some fun repartee about yellow golf balls, which “no good golfer would use,” and some trivia about some of the greats of the game: Snead, Hogan, Nelson, etc.

The lucky yellow ball

During that chat I found out that so little does Sean value yellow golf balls, that he gave me more than a dozen Srixon Z-Star (Try me) balls of the forbidden hue. I gratefully accepted them and headed out to the putting green to try out my new “non-good-golfer” yellow balls.

As I waited for my buddy Chris to show for our 3:30 tee time, I hit some irons into the net, chipped, putt, and was not impressed with my skill level. I was even less impressed with my play when Chris arrived and we teed off. Three consecutive bogeys into the round, I wasn’t thrilled, but hey, I was playing golf, and the weather, though threatening, was holding. How unhappy could I be?   

Hideaway Hole No.6

The sprinkles started around the 6^th hole, and no doubt the cloudage was a bit ominous, but we’ve played in much worse. 

Hideaway Hole No.9

We got to the 9^th tee, and the horn went off. “Yeah whatever,” Chris said, or something to that effect, and flared one right, into the right greenside bunker. Unusual for the typically accurate ball striker, but who could blame him under the circumstances.

I wasn’t at all phased, for as my buddy Joel might tell you, I play better in the rain. Using the new strategy Steph and I came up with a couple days prior, 

Another view of No.9

I pulled a club that would get me barely on or leave me just short of the green. Given the wind, the pin in the front, about 175 yards out, that would be the 5-iron. I stepped up and hit that yellow Srixon just as planned, and the ball dropped just short of the green, rolled up toward the flagstick, and disappeared.

Chris & T. A. celebrate Hole in One

“Did that ball just disappear into the hole?” I asked incredulously? Chris wasn’t too sure, and given my eyesight, I couldn’t be 100% sure, but it sure looked like it disappeared into the hole to me. We drove up, and sure enough it was in the hole.

Up until that moment, it had been an “expletive” day, I hadn’t played a good nine holes, and yet, I had hit my first hole in one after 27 years of hitting golf balls! That "blankety blank" day, was now one of the more memorable days of my golfing life, and all on our dear friend Sandi’s birthday!

Steph & T. A. at The Hideaway

Oh, almost forgot, when Steph and I had walked the course two days prior, I hit my 4-hybrid to with six inches on the same hole! I guess that hole was just meant to be my hole-in-one hole. In any event, Chris and I went back to the proshop, chat with the other Hideaway golf professional, Dave Bartoe, about getting the accomplishment noted and had a beer to celebrate. But the celebration was just beginning (click here for more celebration details).

Steph on the job

Despite the poor start to the day, despite the heavy black clouds and being rained out, the day had taken on a much rosier hue, and all because of a fortunate bounce and roll of an undervalued, yellow golf ball…Go figure! Until next, no foot wedges allowed...T. A.