Prior to this summer, the closest I’d come to a prestigious golf victory was almost thirty years ago with a third-place finish in the 8-year-old flight of a junior tournament. There were only three players in my flight. I got a trophy!
So, needless to say, the day I teed it up against Nick Faldo, three-time Masters champion and three-time British Open champion, I was hungry for a win.
I’ll back up and explain how a lowly superintendent found himself competing against a legendary elite golfer. The place was is Eureka, Mont. For those not familiar with Eureka, it’s a quiet place with a rich logging history. It’s a pretty town located in an even prettier area. This isolated little place is also the home of John’s Golf Course for the Handicapped and Disabled.
It’s a strange time in Eureka. While mills are closing and traditional jobs are going away, a housing explosion has been going on. Seekers of the American dream are buying their 10-20 acres, building expensive homes, and getting a horse or two that will never see a saddle. Eureka also has a couple of new golf communities under construction. One of them is a high-end exclusive facility called The Wilderness Club. Nick Faldo is the signature designer for the project.
Ambitious in scale and scope, The Wilderness Club is an impressive development dripping with wealth and luxury that seems in polar contrast to the traditional blue-collar Eureka resident. In an effort to build local goodwill, The Wilderness Club’s public relations department is pumping money into community projects. One such project involved John’s Golf Course and the Espinoza family.
In an incredibly generous gesture, The Wilderness Club had agreed to build a Nick Faldo signature hole for the John’s Golf Course. For the grand unveiling of the design, Faldo and representatives of The Wilderness Club paid a media visit to the course. This is where I – a lowly superintendent – entered the story.
The Espinozas - Steve, Juana and John - invited many of us from the local golf community to join them for the afternoon event. Steve arranged to have Faldo and John play golf (the stakes were one dollar to the winner). The challenge appeared to take Faldo by surprise. Steve provided Faldo with a set of loaner clubs and escorted the event’s contingent to the first tee.
At the tee, Steve introduced John and gave a quick biography of his accomplishments. John, in his usual “waste no time” hitting style, quickly teed a ball and took a nervous hasty swipe. Unfortunately, the result was a skulled-bullet that ground to a halt after a modest 50 yards.
Next Steve announced Faldo. Standing on the tee, it was obvious Faldo wasn’t accustomed to layouts like John’s G.C. With a befuddled look, he turned to Brian Curley of Schimdt-Curley Design (the architecture firm working in conjunction with Faldo on The Wilderness Club) and asked, “Where’s the green?” His edification of Faldo involved explanation of the par four “gulley hole” with its blind green and through-the-trees approach. Faldo pointed to a towering ponderosa pine and asked “So I need to hit around that tree with a slight drawr?” (With a British accent “draw” apparently requires an extra “R” at the end of the word. I also expect Faldo probably doesn’t wash but rather prefers to “warsh” and likely enjoys “bananars.” But I digress.)
Faldo took his loaner-driver with a slight look of disdain and proceeded to center-face a slight drawr around the ponderosa, over the trees, and into the blind gulley.
Behind Faldo, Barry Cole, president and project manager of The Wilderness Club grabbed a club and took a swing of his own. From the passing look of surprise on Steve’s face, I gathered he hadn’t planned for any other participants. But, since Steve’s mom didn’t raise any fools, he wasn’t going to tell the project’s money-guy and primary mover that he couldn’t play. Anyone familiar with Steve will also tell you that he is not one to pass up an opportunity, and he saw one when Mr. Cole joined the fray. Steve quickly started another introduction – this one for a friend and supporter of John’s G.C. – who would round out the foursome.
The lowly (and naïve) superintendent was watching with interest to see who was going to play. With a mischievous smile, Steve called me to the tee. While plotting my revenge (I will get you Steve), I accepted a ball from John and walked to the tee. Faldo looked me over and handed me the driver and a tee and said “I guess you’ll need these.” I took a warm-up swing, heard Faldo murmur “Hmmm” and was left wondering if that’s a good or bad thing. Then I looked over and asked him what the shot was. “You said I need to hit around that tree with a slight ‘drawr’?” Faldo frowned. I made a mental note, “Don’t talk to Nick Faldo.” About that time, one of the locals whispered to another “I hope Jim kicks his ass!” I was nervous, but still pured a slight drawr inside of Faldo’s. Game on.
I’ll spare you the blow-by-blow, but the three-hole event resulted in a nervous John having an uncharacteristically bad round. Barry Cole, a good golfer and true gentleman, had a decent showing. I, the lowly superintendent, was inside of Faldo on every green. And despite having to putt with a seven iron on one green after Faldo walked away with the shared putter, I still finished with a one-stroke victory over Mr. Faldo.
As the afternoon wound down, Faldo posed for publicity photos and signed several items for the Espinozas. Finally, the legendary Brit announced his leave and he and his posse began to walk to their cars. Halfway down the parking area, Faldo stopped, turned, and said to John, “Hey! You owe me a dollar!” John shuffled over while rooting a crumpled bill from his pocket and handed it to Faldo. Faldo grabbed it and said with a smile, “Keep it in the air, kid.” With than, he stuffed the buck in his pocket, spun on his heel and left.
Too bad I didn’t get a chance to make a bet with Faldo. I think I could have gotten pretty good odds.
(Editor's note: This originally appeared in the Peaks & Prairies GCSA newsletter. The author is superintendent of Meadow Lake Golf Resort in Columbia Falls, Mont.)