Arriving at Everett Golf &Country Club as a guest of Rich Weiss and his father-in-law, Bob Trosvig, in my out-of-place 1999 soccer mom mini-van, I swore, “This is going to be my one shining moment!”
Granted, it’s been a less-than-spectacular golf season for me — kind of like my mode of transportation — but I’m the eternal optimist.
I figured if I enjoyed life at the country club for a few hours, it might rub off on my golf game.
For instance, I could spend as much time as I wanted warming up in the driving range because members have unlimited, complimentary access to range balls. Are you kidding me.
Now that’s a paradigm shift. The practical side of me calculated that if I hit 3,750 range balls, I could pay for the monthly dues here.
Then the golf would be gratis.
And it’s somewhat surreal to saunter up to the first tee with no scheduled tee time and no foursome in sight. But Weiss, 47, pointed out, “It’s always just walk up and play out here.”
To spend a day on this splendid course, the fourth oldest in the state of Washington, is a treat I hadn’t experienced in three decades. This time, I appreciated it more than I did when I was 21. This time, I fully grasped the precarious pin placement. This time, I relished playing on fairways cut so closely that someone could use their putter 30 yards from the green.
That’s not to suggest that EG&CC is overly accommodating. In fact, Weiss, one of the last lumbermen in Snohomish County, found more than his fair share of trees in his way on the first two holes.
Ah, the irony.
And his father-in-law enjoyed every minute of it. “It looks like he’s lumbering,” teased Trosvig.
According to Trosvig, 72, EG&CC membership used to include a number of prominent lumber tycoons. These days, the lumber business isn’t as profitable as it was 104 years ago when founding members of EG&CC clear-cut the entire hill for some high society in what was then unincorporated Pinehurst.
Trosvig, one of those with a rich understanding of the value of EG&CC in the community, started as a caddy for the wealthy back when he was 10. In fact, you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who has a longer love affair with EG&CC.
For Trosvig and his caddy buddies, Bob Borup and George Kauffman, the course became their mistress.
The boys would slip out after hours and hone their game. That paid off for Trosvig as he won the high school state championship medalist honors his senior year while guiding his team, Everett High, to the team title in 1959.
One of those salt-of-the-earth kids from north Everett, Trosvig went on to make a name for himself as a dentist. And the community of EG&CC played a major role in helping him realize his potential. Back when he was just 14, Trosvig was sponsored as a junior member in this exclusive club by Doug Burton, a local dentist.
On this day, I felt like a junior member being sponsored by Trosvig and Weiss.
Even though they both started inauspiciously while I worked my way right down the middle of these serene fairways, it was only a matter of time. On No. 2, my long chip shot hit the pin in flight and bounced down and out 15 feet. A two-putt got me a par, and after three holes, I was in the zone.
Reality slapped me in the face, however, when fairways with steeper declines than the 2008 stock market wreaked havoc on my downstroke. Two 4-over par holes did damage to my otherwise solid front nine.
And then the train wreck.
For some physiological or psychological reason, I’ve been faltering on the back nine lately.
Today was no different.
On the back nine, sloppy mechanics resulted in double-bogey golf.
I had hoped to be able to call on the ghost of Ben Hogan when we teed off on the narrow No. 16, known as Hogan’s Alley. With stately fir trees lining the fairway, this one warranted prayers to the God of Golf himself. Having read the first two lessons in Hogan’s Five Lessons, I figured I should be afforded some divine intervention down this tight fairway that loggers would salivate over. On any other hole, my tee shot would have been spectacular, but this is dubbed Hogan’s Alley for a reason. So when my ball brushed against dangling limbs, it dropped short of its true potential. Five strokes later I was wondering where the halo of Hogan was.
And so ended my summer of golf. I’m going to work on my game and come back next spring to give qualifying for the County Am another shot. And I’ll let you know how I’m doing then.
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