The Way of Golf Reconnecting with the Soul of the Game By Robert Brown Burford Books, 2000 ISBN: 1-58080-081-5     $20.00

The intent is certainly commendable. The author despairs the direction golf is taking and seeks to spread the game's gospel of tradition and civility before we all fall into the abyss. Indeed, each of us has a shared responsibility to preserve the game. What a better world it would be. Divots replaced. Slow play alleviated. Soda cans no longer jammed into tree limbs. We have the technology. But what do we do? Pass out Wodehouse and Updike? Force-feed Darwin and Jenkins?

The values the game teaches, the future, the extent of our stewardship, these are all legitimate concerns that deserve our attention.

The author's good intentions unfortunately lapse into a soggy divot mix of naiveté, pats on the back, blissfully imparted instruction and clichés ("Golf is a game of difficulty…" "Golf is a game of a lifetime…" "Golf is a humbling game…"). The choir is being preached to here and the call to arms instead comes off as nostalgic whine.

And dear diary, municipal golf is not nearly as tormented and anarchic as the author describes. Those fellows who, he writes, have the attitude that "I paid my 30 bucks [make that $75], so where's the first tee and how soon does the beer cart get here?" aren't playing the munys, friend, they've moved on. They're playing the upscale daily fee courses and Heavens! they're joining your club. (Not to mention driving the consumerist train.)

Rum stuff, that golfers should pang for a return to the days of dirt-riveted fairways and bag over the shoulder camaraderie. Hell-o! We're all about conspicuous consumption, from our lifestyles to our vehicles to our golf. It's even official policy. Florida sage Gamble Rogers had it. One of his characters said: "Let them that don't want none have memories of not gettin' any." That about sums it up, as does two additional words: profit margin. But don't worry, golf takes care of those seeking instant gratification. They'll soon move on.

Ominous signs of "progress?" Sure, they're everywhere. Look no further than the incursion of carts in Fife, and the selection of the K Club in Ireland for the Ryder Cup. They've even got golf bags with special pockets designed for cell phones?! But, hey! Come on out to the muny. The spirit of the game thrives. Really it does.

"Golfers will have to realize that Augusta greens are not the appropriate benchmark for appearance."

Why? Because you and I happen to think so? Mister, the cows have left the barn.

Slow play, playing it down, carts, handicaps, cell phones, civility, lore, litter, personal responsibility they all boil down to attitude. They can't be mandated. Nothing short of an individual's willingness to learn, suffer and own up can keep the game recognizable. Not exactly our strong suits. Take heart, golf evens things out and if we all just do our part. . . Anyway, not to excuse them, but these problems are part of an old and much larger story.

Only Golf Spoken Here Colourful Memoirs of a Passionate Irish Golfer By Ivan Morris Sleeping Bear Press, 2001 ISBN: 1-58536-052-X     $22.00

Passionate Irish golfer. You mean there are other varieties? I didn't know, an oxymoron to be sure.

A member at Ballybunion since 1962, at Lahinch since 1967, the author's tales from decades of top flight Irish amateur golf and numerous sojourns to America offer an entertaining literary pub crawl through an eventful golfing life.

This is a man who on a "bitterly cold winter's day" would go out to practice hitting quail-high 3-irons with a friend. "Both of us were "on song," he writes, "and I could not help remarking, "Damn it, this is better than sex!" We're left to guess at the friend's likely juicy reply.

Then there was the very good Limerick man who played with eight clubs, including two three-irons and two seven-irons, distinguished for their playing characteristics by their names "heavy" and "light."

It's hard not to envy Mr. Morris for an idyllic golf upbringing. He played many a time over these historic links as a lad with his priest and a few friends. They often had the course to themselves. "It was no problem for me to play two or even three rounds in a day. One day I managed 85 holes, having cycled seven miles in the predawn darkness all the way across town with my bag of clubs on my back."

Golf, it barely needs saying, was not only spoken in the Morris household but lived and breathed. He recounts brushes with greatness over the years (see also Author! Author!) and, for those considering making the pilgrimage, offers superlative local knowledge. (One hint: He prefers Island Golf Club to Portmarnock: "Similar terrain…highly enjoyable traditional links…the thirteenth one of the best par threes in all of Ireland.") Recommended itineraries are provided from both Dublin and Shannon.

Like many on both sides of the Atlantic, there is regret that instead of a more traditional setting, the "rather ordinary" parkland K Club will host the Ryder Cup in 2005. He puts it down to "money talked louder than golfing considerations." The resuscitation of Ballybunion, from the sea and near financial ruin to a remarkable turnaround, including the double-edged sword of tourism, is also forthrightly addressed.

A lovely story from the past: The boy, late for mass, on a string of birdies, is within sight of 29 and running out of daylight. "Play on!" orders Father Enright, offering dispensation. "Go to mass tomorrow."

Along with their richly deserved reputation as storytellers, the Irish have a wonderful sense of priority, don't they? Mr. Morris offers a fine primer on Irish golf with the infectious enthusiasm one might expect from someone who could relish hitting quail high three-irons on a winter's day.

Golf Course Designs By Tom Fazio with Cal Brown Henry N. Abrams, Inc., 2000 ISBN: 0-8109-6717-0     $45.00

Along with a lavish photographic travelogue of the author's distinguished body of work, this is a fascinating, even provocative look at a modern architect's manifesto. It's not an attack but considerable effort is given to a spirited offensive, outlining the limitations faced by today's designers compared to their predecessors.

The work of the classic architects is clearly in Mr. Fazio's crosshairs. I would guess this is because he finds himself inevitably competing against those from bygone ages who played by very different rules of engagement. This is inherently unfair, and I would suggest a losing battle, as it is, say, for modern day sluggers to compete against the memory and record of Babe Ruth. Apples and oranges. Still, there is much to ponder here while admiring the pretty pictures and considerable insight behind the scenes of modern masterpieces.

"If a golf course with the quality of a Pinehurst #2 were built today," he asks, "one that had great shot values and design features but little sizzle or flashy eye appeal, would it be well received by golfers and writers and resort owners?" He answers: "The expectations people have today for instant visual impact, the "wow" factor, suggest to me that those days are gone. . . .Golfers and owners alike want instant gratification."

He may be right. There's a lot of that instant gratification stuff going around. During my own imaginary cross-examination, I might introduce into evidence Pinehurst #8, one of his designs and, frankly, gorgeous. Where once upon a time swamps and environmentally sensitive areas would merely be filled in, the course treads tenderly. It is an experience that fulfills all modern day golf requirements and sensibilities. Given the choice of going there or playing #2, however, I think most golfers wouldn't hesitate.

Regarding the laundry list of conundrums facing modern designers, the plea is no contest. Environmental restrictions, permitting Gordian knots, poor land selection, the onus of development, the "sizzle" question, the beauty pageant course ratings game, even finding room for quality practice facilities today taken as a given complicate the process. Surely, these same constraints would dog Donald Ross and his contemporaries were they still active.

"If we were to design a course like Royal Portrush, for example," he continues, "we'd probably be criticized because a golfer's first view on the very first tee takes in a large trailer park, yet it's one of the world's great courses."

In his closing argument he suggests that "when the experts later this century look back and assess the past hundred years of golf architecture, their rankings will indicate that the majority of the premier courses of the twentieth century were designed in the 1990s."

We'll see. Say this about the classic architects, they were all staunch advocates of public golf, affordable public golf, and in that respect I think they have it all over their modern counterparts, but that's just business.

I come back to something in Al Barkow's book, a comment about technology. All the modern forces brought to bear have been unable to produce a violin of equal quality to those produced by a half-literate Stradivarius. Mr. Fazio's work, of course, stands on its own exceptional merits. His contention that numerous "classic" holes could not be built today, and many of the other points he makes, are valid, important, worth considering, and no doubt compelling to an audience of potential suitors.

Masters of the Millennium The Next Generation of the PGA Tour By Robert Hartman Sports Publishing Inc., 1999 ISBN: 1-58382-038-8     $20.00

War stories from four American Junior Golf Association "lifers" who went on to distinction. It's interesting how many of the tour players have relationships and rivalries that date from childhood. The writing will remind those of a certain age of hyperbolic books like "Great Running Backs of the NFL," and the like. They built up the stars to impressionable minds and added a tad of Horatio Alger inspiration.

Justin Leonard, David Duval, Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson are the main stars profiled, and it really shouldn't surprise anyone that as kids each had a single-mindedness about golf that set them apart. Phil Mickelson, we learn, played in 53 tournaments between the ages of six and nine; none of which he won. Teachers often noticed him staring at classroom floors. The young prodigy was simply trying to "read" which way the ball might break if it were a green. When he started to win tournaments, a friend viewed it as if the methodical Mickelson were privately ticking off a list: Byron Nelson, Colonial, Bay Hill, Phoenix Open, Tour Championship . . .

The heavy-handed clichés, the rah-rah treatment, and often perplexing or ridiculous word play ("The Wind and the Furyk"), can be hard to bear but they obscure some interesting insights. "Groovy Duuvy" Duval's college coach recalls that "the worse his mood, the better he played." Justin Leonard's trainer says, "With Justin, his greatest improvement is his butt." No wonder Cosmo noticed.

There's also a love letter to the movie Caddyshack and an interesting profile (sans the bombast) of putter maker Scotty Cameron. His is a genuinely uplifting story of someone having succeeded without sacrificing or subverting his creative enthusiasm. The California cities he names his creations? "I am a big believer in giving a putter a personality," he says. "These cities give them an elegance."

The surprise, given the emphasis on youth both on the PGA Tour and beyond it, is that, aside from Tiger where the total book count (not just for kids) nears the century mark, there aren't more golf titles for younger readers (in the business, YA for Young Adult). Perhaps this is the soft underbelly of the golf boom - an indication that golf is really still for adults. Perhaps television and video games can carry the load. But if golf is to flourish, young, maturing minds will need to read and learn about their heroes, even if they do sometimes grow up grumpy and guarded.



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Light Reading - Edition IX