WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH MY HEADCOVERS?! AND PLEASE KEEP YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER!

By Doug McAllister

Yep. That's my golf bag. Right there. Seven headcovers, if you please. Seven! And Darned proud of it! My driver is covered by a Grizzly Bear. That's an American Bison on my 3-wood. A Coyote on my 5-wood. A Hedgehog, a Moose and a Mouse cover each of my three hybrids. And a Bear Cub, right there in front, covers my putter. So, what's so unusual about using headcovers — even seven of them in one bag? Come on! What's the big deal!

I ask because of the reactions that I have gotten of late at various golf courses where I've gone to play. When I played Teton Pines in Jackson Hole, the excellent Arnold Palmer designed track in west-central Wyoming, my playing partner and brother-in-law, Rich Herlin, joined in with the course staffer assigned to load up our clubs, in openly making fun of my furry entourage. "Are there golf clubs somewhere under all that?" the staffer laughingly asked.

Then there was the latest outing at Tuhaye, Mark O'Meara's superb course near Kamas, Utah. Same playing partner, this time joined by Rich's son and my brother, Bruce McAllister. Once again a course bag man looked askance at my bag and everyone laughed but me. Why should I laugh? I bought 'em, didn't I?

So! What's wrong with my plush playing partners? I have been very careful to stay within a theme. And never underestimate the importance of staying with a theme when it comes to headcovers! All prairie creatures. No dragons. No killer whales or giraffes added.

Okay. The one possible holdout is the hedgehog. But in Finland hedgehogs abound in the prairies there so I figured it wasn't too much of a stretch. Why Finland? Well...because I once lived there and was enchanted by the little creatures. Also, it stands solidly to reason that, had the Queen of Hearts of Alice in Wonderland fame played golf instead of croquet, no doubt her ball of choice would have likely been a hedgehog — wearing a Titleist logo, of course.

I also find my choice of covers better than the brand named covers so prevalent out there. I get bored with bags sporting Taylor Made or Titleist or Ping headcovers. What's the real purpose, after all, with those? Quite simply, it's all too transparent an application of the Emperors New Clothes to golf. Those with branded covers are screaming, "Look! Look at me! My clubs are more expensive (or newer or more prestigious or whatever) than yours!"

Right, right! You disagree! So be it! Oh. You...that just tuned in, you agree with me? Didn't mean you! But thanks!

But back to my experiences on the course, and this one's the weirdest encounter of all.

At Cedar Hills Golf Course, just across the way from my Fox Hollow home, I ran into an interesting threesome. Two men and a woman. I was there with another brother-in-law, Jeff Bennion. As a twosome we were, naturally, outplaying the threesome. They graciously allowed us to play through. As we passed where they had parked their carts, on the way to the tee that they had vacated, the woman in the group began to giggle uncomfortably. Never mind that she seemed to be a bit tipsy. She held a beer and there were several empties in the basket of her cart. "What's with so many stuffed headcovers?" she asked. I explained that I just liked them and that they reflected my love of the outdoors. Laughing much harder now, she slurred, "Rrrrighttt! No S--t! Sure it isn't something...else?" I was totally confused. She then went on to drunkenly explain that she was sure that the playful plushes were a reflection of some bizarre and intimate fetish that plagued me (not her words, mind you! but I'll spare you her exact phraseology). "Shhurrre that's not it?" She gigglingly asked, adding a wink for good measure.

Holy cow! Now it was my turn to feel like the defrocked emperor in Hans Christian Andersen's tale! And on a golf course, to boot! I just sat there and stared at her. I just shook my head. And, as we drove up to the tee, she could be heard to laugh uncontrollably.

So there it is. I am sure that my troubles arising from my golf bag decorations are not over.

You be the judge. You have the picture here. You got problems with my furry friends? I'll send you a quarter to call someone who cares! If I had the number of the inebriate already described, I'd include it here.

This much is certain. A bear, bison, coyote, hedgehog, moose, mouse and bear cub — all excellently created by the folks at Daphne's Headcovers (had to get that in for my marketing good turn of the post!) have only helped me...

Hit 'em long and straight! Okay! At least some of the time!

GOLF COURSE REVIEW: UTAH'S MURRAY PARKWAY GOLF COURSE

by Doug McAllister

Nestled at the south junction of I-215 and I-15 in Murray, Utah, you will find Murray Parkway Golf Course. No doubt, if you've driven east on I-215 from Salt Lake International Airport, heading for points south, you've seen the course on the south side of the road. You can't miss the giant golf ball perched in the middle of the course's driving range.

So, let's talk golf at the Parkway — as this promises to be a fairly short post!

To put it in a nutshell — which is exactly how you feel while playing this claustrophobic little course — Murray Parkway, in my view, is 18 holes laid out like a can of sardines from hell. And, worse still, the feeling when playing the course is that you have to hold back or you might hit something! You might hit a car on the interstate. You might hit one of the many buildings that borders the course on virtually every side. And, most pointedly, on the 9th hole the golfer has the distinct feeling that a well-struck approach might end up in clubhouse! To borrow a phrase from the immortal Rooster Cogburn of True Grit fame, this course is "tighter than Dick's hatband!"

Now, I can already hear the arguments from the Parkway faithful: "It's a good track, given the land that they had to work with!" But that's the point isn't it? Most fine volumes on golf course design agree, location is of paramount importance when choosing the site for a course. Accordingly, I would argue that making the most of a bad location spells trouble from the outset!

And then there is another argument that is sure to arise: "Maybe you just need to control your golf ball better!" Funny! That one is also applicable at your local Putt-Putt, with which the Parkway has too much in common!

Skip this one.

Besides there are too many fine courses to choose from within a short distance to waste any time at Murray Parkway. Try Wingpointe, Arthur Hill's fabulous course adjacent to the International Airport. Continuing east on I-215 (without stopping at the Sardine Can just discussed!) and you'll find Gene Bates' wonderful Old Mill Golf Club. Head south a bit and you'll practically run right into Bates' other fine Salt Lake County course, Riverbend. I could go on and on.

But I won't.

Murray Parkway gets one star out of a possible five from me for one very good reason: Because if you hit 'em straight there, you had better NOT hit 'em long!

A FEW RANDOM (OKAY, WEIRD) OBSERVATIONS ABOUT GOLF HATERS

by Doug McAllister

What's in golfers to hate? I ask you. The more I am involved with golf, the more I learn that there is a rather large society of golf haters and haters of golfers out there. No? Well let's chat about that for a minute.

I first became acquainted with animosity toward golf and golfers shortly after I began playing the game. My paternal grandfather, a lovable old mountain man/cowboy/rock hound, apparently hated and disrespected golfers. I didn't know it, though, until I had the bad luck, one day, to ask him where the local golf course was.

Grandpa lived in the little, one-horse town of Delta, Utah and, at the time, the city had a little 9-hole track "down by the rez (short for reservoir)." The designer of the local cow patch was said to be, apocryphally, none other than Billy Casper. I was never able to substantiate this, but that was the word on main street Delta. Unfortunately, shortly after the events described here, the rez apparently flooded, washing away the little course and any reference to who might have designed it. Casper or otherwise. But, back to my post.

When I asked where I could find the course, Grandpa's face took on an exaggeratedly "pinched" expression. I doubt that I could have coaxed such a look of disdain from him had I informed him that I was joining a hippie commune in Los Angeles! After eying me up and down and up again, with a tear in his voice he asked, "Are you a...golfer?" He disappointedly dropped his eyes, shook his head, inaudibly mumbled something, gestured violently to the southwest and began to walk away. Had his wife not stepped in and demanded that he give me exact directions to the course, I doubt I would have been able to find it and been spared one of the worst rounds of my golfing experience — my fault. Not the course's! The point is he hated golf and, it wasn't too much of a leap to assume, he hated golfers as well!

Since then I have noted here and there a tendency on the part of many to hate those of us who are obsessed with "spoiling good walks!" Aha! Mark Twain! Potentially another golf hater!

One of the most interesting statements about hating golf and hating golfers comes from the inimitable Country Lawyer, Gerry Spence. In his book, How to Argue and Win Every Time, Spence unabashedly notes:

" I am prejudiced against bankers because of their spite toward the poor, which is a reflection of their own deep, abiding and ugly prejudice. They will pass a starving man on the street, but give generously to the socially correct symphony (but only if their names appear on the evening's program as major contributors)."

With all due apologies to bankers, let me get to the point as Spence continues:

"I am prejudiced against golfers because any given group of golfers is likely to include a lot of bankers, or friends of bankers, and because golfers, on the whole, are as boring as bankers. They offer little by way of enlightenment other than their golf scores. I argue (through my prejudice) that if on any given day God should strike all golfers on all golf courses dead — all at once — the world would likely go right on without missing a beat."

Holy Cow! Oh, the vitriol! Oh, the horror! Good thing I'm not prejudiced against lawyers (many of whom are golfers)!

So why the hate? Why the lampooning? Why the shamed disrespect. I suspect that much of it arises from the fact that golf is about as hard a game as there is. Admittedly, there are — just as in any group of enthusiasts in whatever — a few snobs and bores among golfers. Who knows why my Granddad felt the way he did. But I suspect that Mr. Spence's problem might have arisen from a bit of putter envy (can I say that?). More than likely, pursuing the lifestyle of a young lawyer, he decided to take up the game. I can imagine it. Out with his fellow barristers to enjoy a day on the links. And poor Gerry can't putt! Is it his nerves? His ego takes a beating. There is snickering in the gallery at his expense when putt after putt after putt comes up short! Oh, the agony! Walking off the course he throws his putter to the four winds and, shaking his fists at the heavens, vows he will never putt again! Not to mention that the young lawyer is sued by the own of the BMW through whose window the putter crashes. Or something along those lines. Perhaps a bit less Wagnerian (and, no, that's not what really happened!).

Whatever the reason, I have to admit that I belong to a hated fraternity. A hated association. So what is to be done? Shall I take to the golf closet, sneaking out now and again to anonymously ply my trade? What shall I do if friends notice callouses on my hands — exactly where Ben Hogan said they should be — and ask me what I have been up to? Am I to be relegated to back alley rendezvous to buy used golf balls from the kid who combs the local course for strays?

Or can I fearlessly stride into the local Wal-Mart and buy new Titleist NXT Tours (for that same kid to find a week from now)? Yes! I am here to say that I am above the hatred. I will hold my head up, attend my GA meetings and stand and loudly proclaim, my name is Doug McAllister and I PLAY GOLF!

Actually, I'll just keep on keepin' on and work as always to...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!

CAN WE GET BACK TO GOLF IN ITS PURITY?

by Doug McAllister

Don't you hate that golf has become fodder for the tabloids? I can recall when — just a few years back — golf was considered the last, pure gentleman's game. No out-of-the-ordinary reports about this golfer getting caught with his pants down (literally). No wild and crazy photos showing up about that golfer struggling with an addiction (of a variety of sorts). Peaceful stuff.

Now golf seems to be headed — albeit and thankfully more slowly — in the same sordid direction as many of the globes other games.

For me and my blog here, there has been the temptation to address some of the same stories as other blogs about the sport. No more. Yes, I may have to weigh in if there is truly something earth-shattering and golf-related as well. Other than that, though, it's time to focus on golf!

I have said again and again and again that golf is the bigger than any single professional player or golf personality. Bigger than any golfer, for that matter. Big enough that it cannot really succumb to dips and valleys in the market. Oh, sure, there may be a drop in player participation stats when the economy gets tight but, thankfully, it will never be such a catastrophe that the game ceases to be played.

There is something far too fundamental, far to foundational about golf. It seems almost timeless, regardless of whether yellow golf balls are "in" or "out." It has been and always will be a BIG DEAL. When a King of England goes out of his way to try to ban the game for fear of its effects on national security, you know that this isn't something a faddish as longboarding or hackysacking.

So, I'll say it: To hell with Tiger! To hell with his personal problems. To hell with guessing about whether his wife beat him up or not. To hell with speculating about why his game has gone south.

There are far better golf-related subjects about which to speculate. For example, a better question — one more pertinent to golf in its purity — is why has David Duval's game gone south? Huh? How about that? Or why did Johnny Miller's game go south when it did? Or, even better, why has your Uncle Stan's game gone south? OR why is it that going south is such a bad thing?

The interesting thing about golf is that it is played at all levels with just as much emotion — sometimes even more so — as in the professional ranks. We lose sleep over it. We worry about whether we can make a high school golf team. We agonize over whether we will still be able to play it a decade from now or, worse, whether we'll still want to. We mess with it and we fidget about it. We buy too many golf balls or too many pairs of golf shoes. Why? Because, when we can't be on the course, buying something that is golf-related gives us a feeling that we are still actively part of the game!

So, I'll try to keep this interesting WITHOUT stooping to the stupid nonsense that has come to pervade golf journalism. It's true, we love a scandal. But, surely, there is so much of good and noble and lasting about this game that I should be able to explore it and write about it. No?

So you go hit 'em long and straight and I'll get working on putting together stories that go a bit deeper than the tabloid ordure that's all the rage for today!

MORE IDIOTIC GOLF VIEWER VIGILANTISM!

by Doug McAllister

Last Tuesday I wrote about golf vigilantism gone crazy; armchair rules officials calling in to rat out hapless golfers who — most often without thinking — break the rules.

Well, it's happened again. Just like that. Julie Inkster, the veteran of the LPGA, was disqualified after a pseudo sleuth called in and reported seeing Inkster using a training donut on her club as she waited to continue her round. Damnable! To think that a consummate pro like Julie Inkster would attempt to take advantage of her fellow players in such a way. Why, it's as bad as using performance-enhancing substances! Don't just disqualify her. Stone her!

Moreover, the infraction has become the stuff of other golf blogs. Parents, lock up your sons and daughters! First, Dustin Johnson seeks the downfall of our youth by cheating at the PGA Championship and now Ms. Inkster has done the same. Shameful!

RUBBISH! As noted in my previous post, it's time to turn the water cannons on the idiots who call in and, by so doing, break up the sensible play of golf tournaments everywhere. Golf, just like other sports, continues to be a game played by fallible humans — just like you and me. Also, the game continues to be officiated by similarly mistake making carbon-based life forms. Ergo, mistakes of every sort are going to me made. Mistakes by players and by those assigned to officiate. And that should be a locked circle!

Allowing individuals to call in and report infractions is tantamount to sanctioning an instant replay in golf — the game that is supposedly so honorable that players can and should call penalties on themselves.

My appeal, then, is as it was in my previous post: Please, PGA and USGA and R&A and all others upon whom falls the responsibility to officiate golfing events, turn off your phones. Refuse to accept calls from outside agencies who want to become your extra pair of eyes and ears. Determine that you will officiate yourselves and, should mistakes be made or infractions be missed, accept that it's all part of the game.

For the rest of us...

Hit 'em Long & Straight!

TODAY'S FLOTSAM AND JETSAM: WYNDHAM, DUSTIN & TIGER

by Doug McAllister

Some days there are just too many golf subjects to weigh in on. One of those days today. So, this post will be several pieces crammed together. The only unifying element here is golf but, in the end, that's probably okay!


"MINOR LEAGUE" WYNDHAM WITH SOME MAJOR ISSUES AT STAKE

More and more, events that seem to lack the supposed marquee players of the Tour have gotten a black eye, labeled as almost minor league events. But, at the Wyndham Championships this week, that really isn't the case — even if what's his name is too good to come. Too much at stake this week to be considered minor in any way. All of the "bubble" players are scrambling hard to make the start of the playoffs next week and that makes for some exciting stuff. I guess when there is, seemingly, a ton on the line, high interest is generated.

But, don't you think if there were appropriate levels of interest given to all of the previous "minor" events of the year, many of the Bubble Boys would have already qualified for the playoffs? Something to think about.

Others, like Anthony Kim, who are coming off injuries or other setbacks during the season really aren't to be blamed. I am sure that their interest was there, even though they were unable to play. Also, let's not consider any PGA event minor, regardless of who shows up. It's golf, isn't it? Golf at this level is all that really needs to be there. But, for minor league golf, please tune into the Nationwide Tour.


DUST(IN) IN THE WIND!

While it seems that Dustin Johnson has wisely moved on following his unfortunate debacle at the PGA Championship, everyone else in the press seems to be chewing the bones. So, not to be left behind, I will too.

The finger pointing has begun in earnest as everyone is blaming everyone for the mess. Even Pete Dye is being criticized for including the 1200+ bunkers in his exquisite design. Hilarious! It was Dustin's fault for not reading the unnecessary local rules sheet (unnecessary because, in my view, the whole deal shouldn't have been handled on a local rules breakout!). It was the PGA's fault for their professionals on the scene remaining silent when they should have been sending up red flags right and left. And it's surely Lake Michigan's fault for being there in the first place and for helping form the links land upon which the course was built.

I liked Nick Faldo's take on things during an observation made while commentating at the Wyndham Championships. He noted that only once previously in his entire career had he ever seen spectators standing in a bunker that was in play on a golf course and that was in France (leave it to the Frogs! — my comment not Nick's). His comment was that he couldn't believe that the spectators were allowed to stand there (probably the fault of the PGA!) and that, given the fact that they were allowed there, the sandy track was not immediately declared a waste area. Hear! Hear! Sir Nick! Why didn't someone on the scene think of that? Seems to me that if an area is tracked all over by a bunch of human cattle the only fair thing to do is consider it a waste area. Faldo for PGA President!


AS THE TIGER TURNS!

I would have said "as the Eldrick Turns" but the nice alliteration would have been lost.

We can all rest easier. Eldrick has announced that he will begin his defense of the FedEx cup at next week's Barclay's. Defense? Right! I don't know about you, but I was losing sleep wondering whether or not he would sanctify the event with his presence. But breathe easier, golf fans! The exalted one will be there and the world of golf will be saved for one more weekend!

Also, speculation is running higher than high that Pavin will pick Eldrick to grace the ranks of America's Ryder Cup Team. If you didn't shout "hallelujah!" regarding the breakthrough at the Barclay's, here's your next chance. Again, America will be saved as El(drick) Tigre leads our boys into the fray to vanquish the foul European foes! And, if you believe that — that we will vanquish the foul European foes — I still have that oceanfront property here in Utah for you to consider buying.

I'm afraid that poor Pavin is under immense pressure to make sure that the PGA's erstwhile Poster Boy is on the team, whether it's for the best or not. After all, money talks and that other stuff walks. Can't have money without a product and, mistakenly, Eldrick is viewed as the product.

Funny. I always thought golf was the product. Silly me!


So, there you have my random meanderings for today. Do yourself a favor and get out there and...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!

GOLF COURSE REVIEW: SOLDIER HOLLOW SILVER COURSE AT MIDWAY, UTAH

by Doug McAllister

In 2002 the world came to Utah in the form of the Winter Olympic Games. Big stuff! Venues were built all over the norther part of the state for the various events. For Cross Country Skiing a site was chosen in the picturesque Heber Valley, southeast of Salt Lake City. The west mountains of the valley offered the ideal terrain for skiing and the Soldier Hollow Cross Country Ski Center was born.

Wanting to take full advantage of the beautiful setting, it wasn't a very big jump for the State of Utah to propose further developing the area for year-round activities. And what activity would benefit from the gentle rolling terrain favored by cross country skiers? Why, golf...of course!

Soldier Hollow now sports two 18-hole courses designed by Gene Bates, renowned for his collaborations with Fred Couples.

This year I made it a goal to play at Soldier Hollow and my three sons and I accomplished that goal earlier this week.

For our round we chose the Silver Course. In keeping with an Olympic theme, the other course is...you guessed it...named the Gold Course. Now, if they would put in an additional 18 and call it the Bronze Course, we'd have a complete medal set.


SOME GREAT STUFF: THE POSITIVES ABOUT SOLDIER HOLLOW SILVER

Gene Bates has designed four courses in northern Utah, all within just a few miles of each other in Wasatch, Utah and Salt Lake Counties. Having now played them all, they have in common some incredible links-style designing and bunkering. This is especially true of Soldier Hollow. The gently rolling hills of the slopes are wonderfully punctuated with bunkers that add both challenge and beauty.

The setting, with its views of the Wasatch Mountains all around, is nothing short of spectacular. Add to that a terrific clubhouse — complete with one of the finest, friendliest staffs to be found anywhere — and a country-club-like attention to greens, fairways and overall groundskeeping and you have a definite must-play golf destination.

From the standpoint of playability, the course is top notch, featuring yardages ranging from a 7,355 yard track from the back Black tees (rating 73.2, slope 131) to a course of 5,532 from the front Red tees (rating 68.3, slope 111). Each tee offers its share of challenge for golfers of every skill level. Really good stuff!


NOW, FOR THE DOWNSIDE: MY NEGATIVES FOR SOLDIER SILVER

We teed off at 6:56 a.m., just in time for the sun to peek over the eastern horizon. That would have been just fine, except for the unfortunate fact that the Silver Course, especially its first six holes, is configured primarily on an east/west orientation. I cannot describe how absolutely discouraging it was to make good contact on the tee and in the fairway and not have the first clue where or how far the ball had gone!

Might seem like a small thing. However, great golf course designers are usually careful to consider such things as sunlight when determining hole orientation. Having played the other Bates courses in the area, it seems obvious that this is a designer that should know better. It was more than a little confusing, given the visibility and fanfare surrounding the Soldier Hollow complex, that such a blunder would be made.


WRAP-UP

Can I recommend the Silver at Soldier Hollow? Definitely! I would, however, strongly recommend taking care when scheduling a tee time, unless, of course, you routinely carry special sunglasses designed for watching sunspots or eclipses or what have you.

Overall Rating: 3 Stars out of a possible 5

You will want to try Soldier Hollow and when you do, be sure to...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!