Cliff Clavin Appears at Century Pines

"It's a little known fact that golf has its origins in the highlands of Central America. Contrary to popular belief, the game was not invented in 15th century Scotland. Centuries earlier, it was part of an elaborate religious ritual performed by the ancient Mayans. Using stone balls and wooden clubs, the Mayans used the ritual to pay equal homage to the gods of the earth, from which the balls were played, the heavens, through which the balls flew, and the underworld, where the balls ultimately came to rest. Constellations representing each of the gods, or more specifically the number of stars making up each constellation, determined whether a hole was to be played in three, four, or five strokes. Since each of the three gods was to be appeased for all six segments of the Mayan calendar, 3x6, or 18 holes were to be completed during each ceremony."

Of course, everything in the preceding paragraph is bunk. It's the kind of thing you'd expect to hear from Cliff Clavin, the likeable, but nevertheless annoying, know-it-all who traded bar room tales with a cast of other characters on Cheers, the popular sitcom that ran on NBC for much of the eighties and early nineties. For those who didn't follow the show, here's a clip of Cliff that hints at his rather unique personality.



If I didn't know any better, I would say that I ran into Cliff Clavin himself at Century Pines Golf Club, the site of my latest round of golf. You see, I went as a single and was paired up with a couple of other players. One was a quiet, friendly guy who turned out to be great company. His friend was a likeable, but nevertheless annoying sort, who I frankly had trouble tolerating. Don't get me wrong; there wasn't an ounce of bad in this guy. He just happened to be a chatterbox of epic proportions. From the start of the round to the finish, he described the minutiae of local golf courses, schooled me on historic golf events, even peppered me with obscure golf trivia. Add to this the fact that he had a penchant for exaggerated reactions to every shot taken as we played. I swear, he was Cliff Clavin reincarnated.

Before "Cliff" even got to me, I shot my round to pieces. Teeing off shortly after sunrise on a September morning, it was cold and misty. The best weather for golf is now behind us and I really felt it at that moment. I pulled my first ball out of bounds, then blocked my third off the tee across the opposite fairway. What happened next was a string of truly horrific mis-hits. With a tree disrupting my backswing, I barely advanced the ball. Next, I hit four duffs in a row, ending with a ball in a pond. After a second penalty stroke, I hooked one straight across the first fairway. Two chips later I was on the green, only to finish with a 3-putt. My score on the hole was 15. I could not believe it!

Cliff was not responsible in any way for my opening hole fiasco. In fact, perhaps it was the miserable start that soured me to his myriad stories. When you blow up on a hole like that, the last thing you feel like doing is to exchange pleasantries. In any case, I abandoned any hope of getting a good score for the round. All I hoped for was to play well on the remaining holes and to salvage whatever score I could.

I went on to struggle for about three more holes, before settling down into something more typical of my recent performances. I made a quadruple-bogey, bogey, and triple-bogey on holes #2 through #4, before stringing together four bogeys in a row. On hole #9 however, I was back to the nonsense, registering another quad. My score at the turn was an embarassing 63.

I don't know what happened. My driving, which had been so encouraging at Hockley Valley and Indian Wells, went off the rails again. A couple of short irons were shanked when I was attempting seemingly simple shots. My putting wasn't terrrible, but I still collected three 3-putts.

The back nine was mostly a different story. I drove the ball a little better and avoided shanks or duffs. This helped me collect a couple of pars, to go along with a series of bogeys. Hole #16, the #2 handicap on the course, finally ended the good streak. I pushed a 3-iron off the tee into a hazard. I hooked my approach to the green into another hazard. Poor shots on this hole are hard to recover from, due to the abundant hazards and out of bounds. I finished the hole with a quad. This took some of the wind out of my sails and I stumbled a bit to finish the round. I shot 49 on the back nine, which isn't great, but is a heck of a lot better than 63!

What can I say? This round was like a punch in the stomach. It was two steps back, after taking a step forward at the previous round. The season is winding down and my game is grim. Sigh.

Score: 112
Putts: 34
Fairways: 3
Greens: 2
Penalties: 6