PETER BUFFA -- Comments and Curiosities

They play, we watch. They make the impossible shots, we scratch our

heads. They move on, we stay here. They call it the Toshiba Senior

Classic, we call it the first weekend in March.

It took a few years, but we’ve got the rhythm now. Love it or hate it,

golf is a major league, hubba hubba big deal. Do you know how many

Americans play golf? Neither do I. But it’s a lot. That’s “lot” as in

“zillion.”

Almost all of the men and women who chase the little white ball around

the big green course are avid fans. They love to watch almost as much as

they love to play. That’s why there is such a buzz when the pros come to

town, whether it’s the PGA, the Senior Tour or the LPGA.

It’s also a chance for the first-tier local golfers, such as Daily

Pilot Publisher Tom Johnson (who was unable to play this year, sadly,

having injured his shoulder while skiing in Val d’Isere) and Irvine

Police Chief Chuck “Birdie” Brobeck, to strut their stuff in the

preliminaries.

But what about the non-golfers? Who speaks for them? It’s a game

that’s just as hard to appreciate as it is to play, with its myriad rules

and lingo and traditions. Not to worry. Everything you ever wanted to

know about golf but were too bored to ask is right here, in your very own

copy of “The Complete Guide to Golf.”

Conventional wisdom has it that golf was invented by the Scots. Not

true. Golf was invented by the ancient Romans. The Romans, as you know,

were intelligent, sophisticated and really mean. They liked nothing

better than to pack the Coliseum on a summer’s day and watch people being

put through all manner of pain and suffering.

In AD 31, Emperor Tiberius summoned his director of pageants and

torture, Causimus Maximus Painius, to the imperial palace. “Max,” said

the emperor, “we are bored. And when we are bored, we are not pleased.

Enough already with the lions and the tigers and the gladiators. Bring us

something really nasty -- something diabolical -- something that causes

unspeakable pain and anguish and drives people mad.”

“I’m on it, Your Meanness,” said Causimus. “Give me a week.”

“How about tomorrow?” said the emperor.

“Did I say a week?” said Causimus. “What a putzius! Tomorrow is

perfect.”

The very next afternoon, Causimus led the emperor to a large meadow

beside the Appian Way. The lush meadow had been trimmed into an odd, but

pleasing, pattern of paths and circles, with flag sticks stuck in small

holes at the center of each circle. “Holy Molius,” said Tiberius,

pointing at one of the green circles, “What is that?”

“That’s a par 3,” said Causimus. “There are four 3s, 12 4s and only

two 5s, but one of them is a monster 590 from the black tees. Not even

the Visigoths can reach it in two.”

“Hmm,” said Tiberius. “And you say this will drive men mad?”

“I guarantee it, Your Weirdness,” said Causimus. “Anyone who tries

this will be whining like a baby and throwing things way up in the air

within minutes.”

“We are pleased,” said Tiberius, and thus the game of golf was born.

Some thousand years would pass before the Scots would make their

contribution to the game by posing an important question. “Is it possible

to play golf in gale-force winds and a driving rain, in a desolate place

that looks like the surface of the moon?”

The answer was “no,” but that’s where things stood until a man named

Bobby Jones came along. That brings us to Palmer, Nicklaus and Player,

which means modern golf, which means Tiger Woods, which means we’re back

to the drawing board.

Enough history. Rules and terminology can be intimidating, but only to

those who misplace their Complete Guide. The little wooden thing you set

your ball on is called a “tee” because it’s shaped like a funnel. And the

place where you hit your first shot on each hole is called a “tee box.”

The place where your ball lands is called the “rough” or “the trees.”

If you can’t find your ball, drop another ball where you think it landed

and subtract one stroke from your score. That’s called a “lie.”

If your ball lands too close to an obstacle, such as a tree, you may

move your ball no more than seven club lengths away, or to the nearest

spot of well-groomed grass. If you hear someone yell “fore,” run as fast

as you can to the middle of the nearest fairway. You’ll be safe there,

especially on a municipal course.

Equipment is everything. The longest clubs in your bag are made of

metal and are called “woods.” The rest of the clubs are made of steel and

are called “irons.” The most important club in your bag is your foot

wedge, which is specially made for shots of 12 inches or fewer. Never let

anyone see your foot wedge.

In order to work right, clubs need to be really, really expensive and

made of space-age metal. Titanium is OK, but try to find something with

vanadium or, if possible, plutonium. Any of those will make you hit the

ball straight and really far.

Also, size matters. A good driver should have a head about the size of

a mailbox. Anything smaller won’t work. If you get confused, go home and

watch eight or 10 infomercials on the Golf Channel. That’ll clear

everything up.

Finally, golf etiquette is very important. People make it sound

complicated, but it’s quite simple. Just be as quiet as you can. Never

mind that a major league batter has 50,000 fans screaming insults at him

while a ball that’s as hard as a rock is heading directly for his face at

90 mph and he has a quarter of a second to decide if it’s going to hit

him or not. That’s different.

When someone is about to hit a motionless little golf ball lying on

the ground, everybody has to be really, really quiet or they can’t do it.

So there you have it. The Complete Guide. Save it. Study it. Memorize

it. When the Toshiba rolls into town this time next year, you will be

very smart. It’s such an easy game. I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs Sundays.

He may be reached via e-mail at [email protected].