Smitten by spring fever, The Boss walked over to my desk a month or so ago and presented a modest proposal to an inveterate flogger of the golf ball. ”How would you like to play the toughest 18 holes in Chicago, and then write a column about it?” he asked.
”I`d be glad to play the toughest 18 holes in Chicago,” I replied.
”But I`m not sure I`d live to write about it.”
”We`re willing to take that chance,” he said. ”Just don`t fall into any water hazards, because I don`t think that`s covered by the company insurance.”
”It is,” I said, correcting him, ”because I have.”
And so, on a recent weekend, mission imparrable was undertaken. To solve the problem of rating this area`s many excellent holes, we referred to a recent poll commissioned by the Western Golf Association. The panel consisted of numerous historians, players, club pros and media types, not the least devoted of whom was radio personality Larry Lujack, a slave to the dimpled sphere. Chicagoland`s best 18 holes, therefore, were not ours to choose, only to conquer.
Our polyester saga consumed two very full days, during which our fearful foursome assaulted 11 different courses, starting with Kemper Lakes in the north and finishing with a thud at Point O`Woods in Michigan. Bob Langer, The Tribune`s award-winning photographer, drove the van and recorded the event for posterity in black, white and blue. His only restriction was not to click his camera during my backswing, at which time he was laughing anyway.
Shall we proceed with this madness?
KEMPER LAKES, HAWTHORN WOODS, ILL.
Stan Mikita, the Black Hawk Hall of Famer, is a pro at this site of the 1989 PGA Championship, so he was a natural. Not only to be one of the traveling party, but to strike the first ball at dawn`s early light.
”Play well, fellas,” chirped Mikita. ”And, remember, we don`t sell golf balls here. We just lease them.”
Kemper Lakes, sure enough, contains 120 acres of water. No. 11, a par 5 traversing 534 yards, has a dry takeoff, but there is this ominous body of water fronting the green, which is lean and mean. Getting home in two shots requires a mammoth drive that first must accommodate a slight dogleg right;
getting home in three shots means laying up with two accurate blows, then feathering an approach that lands softly.
”Scores, please?” asked Mikita.
”With or without Mulligans?” inquired Keith Magnuson, another former hockey puck, another avid player, another member in our group.
Yours truly three-putted for a 6, which I`ll take any day of the week. That`s more information, and fewer strokes, than I`ll have to report shortly. ”Your favorite hole, Verdi, coming up. Bring your snorkel?” noted Paul Ruck, affectionately known as ”The Doctor.” He is one of us, a working stiff, the last, but not least, masochist in our foursome. The Doctor doesn`t play golf only at night and on Christmas Day.
Ah, No. 17. A par 3, of 203 yards from the tips. You can see the clubhouse bar from the tee, but this is the ultimate watering hole. The green is a lily pad propped up on some railroad ties, which produce a sickening crackle when you skull a low 3-iron into them. Ducks scatter, water splashes, partners snicker–all signs that bear a grim finality. Except that you`ve still got to advance to the drop area and try to avoid water again.
”The wind adds a little fun, too,” said Mikita, explaining as he drives the cart. ”Sometimes, you have to start the ball 30 yards to the right, right at the bridge, then bring it into the pin. You`re not finishing this hole, Verdi? See, it`s not even 9 o`clock in the morning, and already your bag is lighter than when you arrived.”
Par for Magnuson, who almost holed his chip shot for a birdie. Showoff.
BOB O`LINK,
HIGHLAND PARK, ILL.
Gary Groh, one of the best players among local pros, is anxiously awaiting us. He`s host at a magnificent layout. Bob O`Link`s practice range is as well manicured as are most of the fairways you`ll ever see. Bob Goalby, the former Masters winner turned broadcaster, says Bob O`Link is his favorite course in the world. Bob Hope has a plaque at No. 8, where he once recorded an ace. Mike Ditka`s a member here. Fiercely competitive, but doesn`t throw clipboards, according to Groh.
Our designated torture here is No. 5, a par 5 of 525 yards. Be accurate, or be gone. A quiet stream crops up on the left of the fairway, and there`s more moisture in front of the green. On the right, shrubbery and lots of it.
”Is it me, or is this fairway getting narrower?” questioned Ruck. (Groh nods.)
”What fairway?” asked yours truly, who went right, left, right for an acceptable 6.
”You won the hole,” noticed Mikita. ”You want to stop and phone the newspaper?”
SKOKIE, GLENCOE, ILL.
No phone calls here. My first shot at the 221-yard, par-3 third hole nearly beaned a fish, and the second wasn`t much better. The rest of the group fared well, on a splendid hole. Tee shots must carry over water, the green is elevated, and bunkers flank it. There`s a commendable stretch of sand, in fact, on the left side of the green, but you have to get to the green to see it.
”Most average golfers will bail out left here, because the water is right, as I see you`ve discovered,” said pro Robert Powers, who fired an obscene 29 on the back nine last year.
There`s history here at Skokie. A few years ago, two members in the same foursome had holes-in-one on No. 3. Another member in the group had a birdie, another a par. Back in 1922, Gene Sarazen, then 20, burst onto the golf scene over this very turf with a U.S. Open victory over Bobby Jones. It was the first time spectators were charged admission fees to watch an Open.
”We got to watch you for free,” noticed Mikita.
NORTH SHORE, GLENVIEW, ILL.
Magnuson, a 9-handicapper, rolled in a 20-footer for par on No. 18, but the rest of our foursome is restless. Magnuson had spent several moments discussing the putt with former Cub Ron Santo, a member and an excellent player.
”Why did you have to help Maggie?” Mikita asked.
”Because I`ve seen him shoot the puck,” Santo answered.
No. 18 at North Shore–yet another former U.S. Open site–is a par 4 of 429 yards. There`s out of bounds on the left, trees on the right and virtually no chance of arriving at the green early by mistake, by chance or by luck.
”That trap about 50 yards before the green makes the hole,” pointed out pro Bill Ogden, a superior striker of the ball for many years. ”It spans the fairway, as you can see, so it will swallow up any low shots that you might hit from beneath the trees. You`re usually teeing off into the wind during the warm weather, so you have to hit your drive straight and long. Just like you didn`t.”
I had a 6 on the hole, but at least I didn`t ask for help.
MEDINAH, MEDINAH, ILL.
As you drive through the gates, you can see the tractors. Yes, the 1988 Senior Open is coming, and so is the U.S. Open, in 1990, for a third time.
”We are making the course, more, um, challenging,” explained pro Bob Hickman. Though there are two other fine 18-hole tracts at Medinah, the course of which he speaks is No. 3. It`s the major attraction, and it contains three doses of poison that are among the Chicago area`s best 18.
The par 5 is No. 7, which goes right, then straight, then up, 589 yards in all. To reach home in two strokes is to be not human; to reach in three is divine; to reach in five after several moments in the shade is Verdi.
”Now I know how you can play a whole round out here and never get any sun,” said Ruck, a 17-handicapper, preening over his par.
The Doctor speaks the truth. Medinah is an enchanting forest, and No. 13 is a case in point. A 452-yard par 4, it is a sharp dogleg left. Drive the ball long to the left, and you still can be blocked out by trees. Drive the ball long right, and you can drive it through the fairway. At journey`s end, there`s a huge dip, followed by an upraised green. Nobody got there in regulation; nobody had a par; nobody wanted to move on to No. 17.
”This is the one they all talk about,” offered Hickman. ”Most par 3s, you can get into trouble either off the tee or around the green. Here, you can kill yourself at both places. Once you start putting, the difficulty has just begun.”
No. 17 can play as long as 219 yards over Lake Kadijah. It played very long for Ben Crenshaw in 1975. He was thinking about winning the U.S. Open when he took a double bogey. Jack Nicklaus sputtered, too, on the same hole, same year. But that`s one of a thousand horror stories at perhaps the most popular hole in the region. If you deposit your drive into the back bunker, you might not have seen the last of Lake Kadijah. Believe me. And two putts from almost anywhere on this slanting green indicates you`re living right.
”With our redesign for the Opens,” continued Hickman, ”No. 17 will become No. 13 from now on. But we`re building another par-3 17th hole, also over the lake, that will be equally interesting. You need three things to have a great golf hole. Wind, water and wood. You`ll see plenty of all of them.”
Already have. The Doctor, a masterly putter, survived No. 17 with two short strokes for bogey. Magnuson and Mikita also took 4s. I drove the cart.
BUTLER NATIONAL,
OAK BROOK, ILL.
Home of the Western Open, Butler is rated the most arduous course in Chicagoland (76.9). When the pros visit, as they will starting Aug. 1 for this year`s tournament, there will be the usual complement of winces, reddened necks and complaints. And that`s for the pros who dare to come. Many don`t.
The 617-yard No. 7 has been voted the bear of par 5s, probably because it always seems to be taking a right turn. Turn too sharply, and there`s Salt Creek. Strategically placed trees adorn the fairway. At the culmination of this horseshoe sits a green. You`re happy once you get there, no matter how, but if you relax, you can putt yourself into a snit.
”Fast,” cautioned Mikita.
”Undulating,” mentioned Ruck.
”Where`s the break?” asked Magnuson.
”Where`s Verdi?” pondered Mikita.
I was meditating over a sweaty 6 about what Tom Watson always says–that No. 7 wouldn`t be so treacherous if you didn`t have to look at No. 8 in your rear-view mirror. That`s a par 3 of delicate proportions, 195 yards from the back tees. Enclosed by trees, fronted by water and protected by sand, No. 8 offers precious little room for error. There`s scant chance you`ll strike a bad shot here and effect any sort of ”good miss.”
”Most intriguing hole on the course,” says Tom Kite, who missed a quartet of respectable scores from us. Two pars, two bogeys. I was so happy about dropping a 4-iron in the back fringe that I needed only three putts.
You want a superior finishing hole? The Butler will do it. A par 4 from about 430 yards, depending on where you tee it up. You can be in jail left, jail right or in danger short. ”The Western is usually decided here,” says Watson, who beat Greg Norman in last July`s playoff there. ”One of the premier tests in all of golf. The definition of a great finishing hole. All you need is a perfect drive and a perfect second shot, usually through a crosswind.”
Everybody wants to play Butler; few can handle it. Bruce Patterson, the pro, is a kind young man. When you complete your round, he asks if you had a nice day. He doesn`t ask for scores. Be nice and be like Bruce Patterson.
CHICAGO GOLF, WHEATON, ILL.
Day 2 of our 18-hole bacchanal begins at Chicago Golf, the first 18-hole golf course in America. History oozes from these acres, which is why Ben Crenshaw is a nonresident member.
”Don Stickney, our former pro, holds the official course record here, 64,” said Tim Schmeling, the present pro. ”But, after the 1981 Western Open, Crenshaw came over here with Tom Weiskopf and Ed Sneed one day and shot 62. That`s the unofficial record.”
Mikita, my cart partner, is of immediate help.
”What`s that over there?” I ask.
”Gorse,” he says. ”Haven`t you ever been to Scotland? This is like one of those links courses, and you`ve hit your tee shot into gorse, of course.” Gorse, maybe; rough, absolutely. You don`t punch your ball back onto the fairway of No. 2, a par 4. You thrash your way. There are numerous mounds to surmount, and a shallow green. Ruck, putter extraordinaire, finds the short grass to his liking. I`ll take my 5 and run, of gorse.
No. 7, a par 3, can play 207 yards, if you so desire. There`s more of that tall brown gorse on the right. There`s trap action on the left. Three of our foursome prevailed nicely. Mikita drew his tee shot, and The Doctor faded his into the fringes, while Magnuson killed a 1-iron to within birdie distance. They all parred. I double-bogeyed from the tall stuff.
”Nice 1-iron, Maggie,” said Mikita. ”You know what they say about the 1-iron. If you ever get caught on the golf course in a lightning storm, just hold a 1-iron over your head and you`ll be safe.”
”What! Why?” questioned The Doctor.
”Because,” explained Mikita, ”not even God can hit a 1-iron.”
”Then what does that make Maggie after that shot?” asked The Doctor.
Replied Mikita: ”Makes him a bow-legged, red-headed defenseman who scored 11 goals in 11 years, not counting the ones he scored on Tony Esposito.”
COG HILL, LEMONT, ILL.
The Dubsdread course is a favorite of the Chicago golfing public, not to mention such tour players as David Ogrin of Waukegan. The play-for-pay aggregation regularly praises Chicagoland for having some daily fee layouts that are as good as or better than many of the private clubs in our nation, and Cog Hill and Kemper Lakes rarely go unmentioned.
No. 9, a brutal and demanding par 5, reminds one of a Cary Middlecoff remark. The only way to go down this fairway is single file. Huge oaks line the landing area, and peer ominously, as though chuckling at the hackers below. One wonders how so many majestic trees flourish with all that sand in the vicinity. That mystery escaped this ecologist, as did par by a wide margin.
Mikita, bless him, made history of sorts by playing the hole perfectly to record the first birdie in the group for the weekend. The rest of us were spectators.
”A seven for me,” groused Magnuson.
”A snowman for me,” added The Doctor, meaning an 8.
”A T.C. Chen for me,” said I, meaning the same thing.
”Come back again,” said the friendly lady behind the registration desk, meaning only to be friendly.
”We`ll be back on the 12th,” I huffed. ”The 12th of never.”
BEVERLY, CHICAGO
There`s not much question why Beverly Country Club has thrice been chosen to host the Western Open. They don`t come any greener than this, and they don`t come much tougher or longer than No. 11, a par 5 that`s only about as long as a runway.
”Rarely do golfers get home in two shots here,” said pro Michael Richards. One of the names he mentioned was Lance Ten Broeck, a PGA Tour player who calls Beverly his home course. ”You`ll almost always be hitting into the wind during the summer months, and that means it`ll play like 650 yards.”
Ideally, one delivers his tee shot to the left center of the fairway, then his second shot to the right center. That leaves maybe 150 or so yards to approach a putting surface that has a front-to-back incline offering all varieties of trauma, depending on the pin placement. And you`ll need three perfect shots before you face that problem.
Perhaps caught up by the scenery, I elected not to complete this hole. I figured No. 11 at Beverly was a nice place to visit if you didn`t have to play it.
”Best wood in your bag here is your pencil, Verdi,” concluded Mikita.
”What`s the sign for infinity?” said Magnuson, insisting on filling out my scorecard.
FLOSSMOOR, FLOSSMOOR, ILL.
Some members at this fine club on the South Side believe there are more strenuous exercises on the grounds, but No. 17 was nominated and it certainly will do. From the tee, this healthy par 4 teases you with a benevolently wide smile. Check again.
”When you come down off the tee, you notice two big willows on either side of the fairway,” reminded pro David Ogilvie. ”Then, there are two big oaks that can block your entry to the green, if you aren`t careful. As for par, our membership has given up on it and accepted the alternatives gracefully. And as far as I know, it`s virgin territory for eagles, too.”
There`s water crossing the fairway some 300 yards out, which shouldn`t affect a normal person`s second shot, but flirted with my third. Hike uphill some 40 feet to the domed green and do your penance. Mikita, warming up to the chore on a blazing afternoon, had 4. You need two perfect shots to get home, and he produced them. I needed a beer and an eraser.
”As long as you`re here, would you like to play a couple of holes our members think are just as tough?” said Ogilvie. And the man was serious.
Olympia Fields,
OLYMPIA FIELDS, ILL.
Get a good night`s rest before playing the North Course`s No. 14, a par 4 that can measure 444 yards but appears longer. This hole, voted the best in class for Chicagoland, will take away more than your breath.
”I remember at the 1968 Western Open here,” said pro John Spiropolaus.
”Miller Barber had just toured the front side in 30 strokes, and he was cruising along when he came to No. 14. He glanced at where the tee was set up, took one look down the fairway and just said, `Holy mackerel!` A lot of people who see it for the first time mistake it for a par 5. We`re proud of it. There are no tricks out there. Just natural terrain.”
Duck-hooks into the oaks on the left side of the fairway are common, for the tendency is to become pumped here, at the challenge and the beauty. Then again, don`t go right, either. More forest. A stream interrupts the fairway twice and hugs the right side. Then, way up yonder in the distance, there`s the green, elevated, as is the tee. The putting surface is slick, and, of course, the subplot includes traps.
”A bogey here is a good score,” congratulated Ruck, glaring at me,
”even if you do run your second shot along the cartpath on the right of the green to get a few extra yards.”
You`ll have to search far and wide for a better test than No. 14 at Olympia Fields North, or a prettier one. It`s a postcard.
POINT O`WOODS,
BENTON HARBOR, MICH.
It`s about a 2 1/2-hour ride from Chicago around Lake Michigan to another lake, the one that dominates the No. 9 hole at Point O`Woods Golf and Country Club, which is a member of the Chicago District Golf Association. The par-3 test measures 203 yards, but it might as well be measured in knots. There`s that much water. Nice way to finish a weekend of humiliation, eh?
”You`ll enjoy it,” warned pro Sam Drake, smiling devilishly. ”There`s plenty of green to work with.”
Plenty of everything else, too. If you feel really juiced–not likely when you`re standing on this tee–you can deliver the ball to a series of traps behind the green. Land there, and you still can wind up in the water, which is in front of the green, below a steep incline capped by some more beach. Don`t go right and don`t go left, either. Almost every hole at Point O`Woods is carved out of trees. No. 9 is also a chute of sorts, only a wetter one.
No member of our wandering foursome had even a sniff of par at this recent home of the Western Amateur championship, but we did find the parking lot. It was time to cease and desist, to drive home, to work on improving our lies. Whose idea was this, anyway? Coming next summer, Chicago`s top 18 bowling lanes.
