Golf: What's Your
Handicap by Bill Hogan
WHAT'S YOUR HANDICAP? by Bill Hogan
I'm a golfer. My handicap is twenty (thanks to an incurable
slice and a non-existent short game). Casey Martin's
handicap is a bum leg. Does anyone else see the irony
in a Supreme Court case involving a handicapped person
and a sport where one's handicap is the uniform measuring
stick for success?
Just about everyone I have spoken to about this issue
has an opinion. The general consensus is "Good
for Casey Martin". I agree, good for Casey Martin.
After that, the waters get a little muddy. On the surface,
forcing the PGA Tour to change its rules - for any reason
- doesn't seem right. On the surface, one man using
a golf cart while everyone else walks doesn't seem right.
Scratch the surface, and you'll find Casey Martin. He
is the exception. The PGA Tour should have treated him
as one. One simple line buried in the tour's rulebook
could have put this issue to rest in 1997. RULE 104257,
SECTION XIXV, PARAGRAPH FOUR: If you demonstrate exceptional
golfing ability, have the talent and patience to qualify
for the PGA Tour AND you suffer from Klippel-Trenaunay-Weber
Syndrome, you will have the opportunity to ride a golf
cart between shots during tournament play.
I can't see what the PGA Tour hoped to gain by taking
this case to the Supreme Court. They had to know that
it would be a public relations nightmare. They should
have known that setting this kind of precedence was
dangerous for golf and all sports.
What's next? Greg Chalmers disqualified himself from
the Kemper Open last weekend, and forfeited a $95,000
paycheck. He told a competing player's caddie what club
he used after a bad shot. That's against the rules.
(FYI, it's also illegal after a good shot).
If you ask me, that rule reeks of Constitutional violations.
First Amendment lawyers would have a field day arguing
the freedom of speech implications of such a rule. There's
a reason why there are no umpires or referees running
around the golf course looking for rules infractions.
The golfers police themselves. If Casey Martin thought
for a minute that riding a cart gave him an unfair advantage,
I have to believe he would disqualify himself.
I've walked golf courses pulling my bag on a handcart.
I've walked golf courses using a caddy. And, boy have
I walked golf courses driving in a motorized cart. I
don't know about your game, but you put two twenty handicappers
in a golf cart and there's a good chance even Richard
Simmons would be fatigued by the time he reached the
eighteenth green.
Hogan's Law #1:
The "CART PATH ONLY" rule is always in effect
on the hottest days of the year.
Hogan's Law #2:
A golf ball will always travel in the opposite direction
of the cart path.
It's very distracting to be the designated cart driver.
I'm driving down the cart path and I approach my drive
and I see my cart partner's ball is twenty yards farther
down the fairway. Do I stop at my ball? Do I drive up
to his and walk back? Do I try to split the difference?
I usually split the difference. Now, I still have a
forty-yard walk to get to my ball. I can see the 150-yard
marker across the fairway. I line up the ball with the
marker and the green, use the Pythagorean theorem to
calculate my distance, choose the appropriate club and
head to my ball.
Naturally, there is a sprinkler head right next to my
ball marking the correct distance. I'm off by twelve
yards. I have the wrong club. A quick look over my shoulder
reveals the next foursome is already on the tee. Anxiety
sets in as I sprint back to the cart, grab the club
I need then sprint back to my ball. Breathing heavily
and sweating like a racehorse, with no time for a practice
swing, I take a swat at the ball. You can guess the
results are not good, but the ball goes far enough up
the fairway to get out of the way of the group behind
me.
As I walk the sixty or so yards to my ball, I realize
my cart partner hit a great shot while I was completing
my wind sprints and has proceeded to the green. I hightail
it up to the cart path, sprint back to the cart and
"speed" up to my ball. Still in a hurry, three
guys waiting for me on the green, four guys launching
golf balls at me from the tee behind, I skull my next
shot into a green side bunker. Back to the cart. I finally
reach the "parking area" behind the green.
Let's see, I'll need a sand wedge, a pitching wedge
in case I leave it in the tall grass between the green
and the bunker, and, EUREKA, my putter!
After a great bunker shot (that's all it really takes
for a twenty handicapper - one great shot per hole),
I mark my ball and approach my cart partner. "Did
you bring my putter?", he whispers. (I can't tell
you my reply, I'm trying to get more women and young
adults to read my column). With my golf shirt already
matted to my back, my sunglasses fogged up, and a double
on the score card, we drive to the second hole.
Sure am glad we got a cart, otherwise I might have been
fatigued.
I wish Casey Martin luck. I wish the PGA Tour had just
done the right thing in 1997 instead of opening a big
can of litigious worms. Greg Chalmers didn't need a
court of law to tell him to do the right thing, most
golfers don't.
