Sunday marked my second trip to the Deutsche Bank Championship in Norton. We rolled deep, a crew of seven which included me, my college buddy Drew, my two childhood friends Chris and Tim, Tim’s brother Tom, Tim/Tom’s cousin Dan, and Dan’s college buddy also named Dan. Got all that? Good. Come with us on this journey.
First of all, I’d like to clear something up at the start. Massachusetts isn’t like those states west of the Mississippi, where a 2-hour drive is considered short. And people from Boston are especially fickle with their driving mindset, considering a day trip to the Cape to be nearly pointless because of traffic, and everything outside the I-495 belt to be Western Mass. So I’d like to lodge a formal complaint with the Tournament Players Club.
TPC Boston sits mainly in Norton, no less than 45 minutes from the city without traffic, which is a meaningless phrase in the car-congested Boston area. It’s only 25 minutes north of Providence, and just about 15 minutes from Gillette Stadium, the HQ of the sports world’s new evil empire. Call the thing TPC Norton, TPC Mansfield (the right halves of the 11th and 12th holes lie over the Mansfield town line), or TPC Brady for all I care. I just want people to know that we had to wake up at 6:30 to get there for the 8 a.m. gates, and we still didn’t quite make it.
Anyway, once we did get there, the day was a smashing success. Conversations were overheard, apparel was judged, bets were made (and lost), and previously unheard-of tour sauce moves were discovered. Add in beers; cigars; hand sandwiches (our term for high fives) from Spieth, Schwartzel, Bill Haas, and many others; along with a perfect mid-70s day with some breeze, and it was tremendous. Let’s get into some of the highlights.
The Midnight Troubadour
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Entrance
No photos here, which was a mistake on my part. Having played the course a few times before, I always picture the entrance this way, complete with a winding drive through manicured trees before reaching the wide, circular clubhouse driveway and drop-off port:
As a lowly spectator, you get no such privileges. After parking in the desertlike expanse of concrete known as the Xfinity Center parking lot, you’re herded onto buses and driven right past the picturesque entrance, then into the loading area of a nearby warehouse. It’s an unsightly corrugated metal structure with a few box trucks backed into the loading docks; the type of place that Aaron Hernandez might be familiar with. Off the bus, over the river, through the woods, down about a half-mile-long path past the 9th hole, and you finally arrive near the clubhouse. Despite the abundance of grandstands, family fun areas, and sponsor booths, it’s not immediately clear where to go. The complimentary map helps, but experience is your best teacher. This year, we unerringly made our way over to the first tee in order to catch Russell Knox and Ricky Barnes, the sixth group of the day.
1 Tee
Branden Grace’s rhino driver head cover
We stuck to the same plan this year as we did last year: head to 1 tee and get on the ropes early. It’s an action-packed spot, with plenty of opportunities to see how guys prepare for their rounds. There’s a lot of visualization, some last-minute yardage book checks, and a healthy dose of banter. Last year, Boo Weekley took the honors for most colorful character by loudly discussing his desire for a little privacy and a date with Pamela Handerson (he said it much less delicately). There’s also the potential for great gallery finds, like this out-of-season Bruins fan.
A true gem
Both Knox and Barnes took hybrids off the 356-yard par 4. Knox’s squirted left, eliciting a wayward drive point from the Scotsman. Interestingly, he was introduced as being “from” Jacksonville, Florida, which would have made him ineligible to compete on that European Ryder Cup team everyone says he got snubbed from. Either this was Knox’s way of defecting from Europe and announcing his eligibility as an American Ryder Cup hopeful, or Scotland’s tax codes are not to be messed with.
Up next were two sweet-swinging South Africans, Louis Oosthuizen and Branden Grace. After seeing Knox and Barnes miss the fairway with woods, these two split it with long irons. They were also conversing in one of their homeland’s eleven official languages, and it was certainly not English. My money’s on Afrikaans.
Being right on the ropes with the sun behind us definitely contributed to the sunburn on the backs of my knees, but also made us liabilities in the eyes of the volunteers. The lady working our side of the tee box mentioned that we would need to stay still when players were addressing the ball, as our shadows lay in their peripheral vision and if they moved, it would “freak the players out.” Like these grown adult professional athletes are skittish baby giraffes at the zoo. Fantastic stuff.
This is the only PGA Tour event I’ve been to, so I’m not sure if this is normal at other places. But here, beside the first tee, there was a temporary practice putting green. Temporary because, when I’ve played there, the area that the green is on is actually the back tee box. We had some fun giving the guys polite claps after they holed a putt, and tossing outrageous betting odds on the likelihood of them jarring half-assed warmup bump and run wedge shots from the fringe.
Leishman and Hadwin rolling putts
As Sunday was the third round of the tournament, the players have all seen this course at least four or five times between practice rounds, pro-ams, and regular tournament play. That’s why I developed a quick liking for Adam Hadwin’s caddie. I had been only very marginally aware of Hadwin before, so I wasn’t real excited for his twosome with Marc Leishman. Then, Hadwin’s caddie (who was dressed like he was aiming to take TJ Lavin’s host spot on MTV’s The Challenge) pulled out the yardage book. On the first tee. Like, the first tee that never changes locations and that literally has the “356” number laser-engraved into a granite slab next to the tee marker. Either Hadwin needed some last-minute reassurance, or his caddie just wanted to look busy. The caddie then proceeded to do a couple deep lunges to limber up those big lifting muscles, and then finished his performance by steadfastly refusing to point left after Hadwin yanked his tee ball further left than Knox had a few minutes earlier. I didn’t see Hadwin the rest of the day, but he finished with a 2-over 73, so I’d suggest a few more lunges.
Adam Hadwin’s saucy caddie
The next group brought the fireworks. John Huh got the unenviable task of playing with arguably the Tour’s most recognizable figure – Rickie Fowler. Up to this point, the teeing area had only been ringed by a single layer of patrons. But with Fowler’s arrival, the hordes descended en masse. Rickie’s moustache was even more glorious in person, and his golf bag had his Twitter handle across the bottom, probably at the behest of his PR team.
Protect the brand
The first real action of the day came when I bet Chris $5 that Rickie wouldn’t be wearing joggers. It was just a hunch, and he took the action immediately. It turned into a somewhat heated debate, and eventually we needed to get the volunteer who had advised us about the shadows involved. She originally made the call that they were joggers, as they revealed most of his high tops.
High tops? Yes. Joggers? Unsure.
The point was raised that joggers need to include an elastic band around the bottom, which prompted the volunteer to talk to another official on the tee. After this powwow, the ruling on the field was overturned, as it was discovered that they were just tight, short pants with zippers. Official ruling: No joggers. Outcome: Chris → $5 Robbie
Not joggers
One interesting thing that I had never noticed watching on TV is how players tee their balls up with their long irons and hybrids. Everyone (with one notable exception) places the tee into the ground so that the point is going towards the back of the tee box. The ball is then perched precariously on the tee, nearly tipping off the front side. It’s a practice I saw repeated enough that I got the feeling that everyone does this. I never played competitive golf so I don’t know if this is just a pro thing or a thing you get taught on the first day of golf school.
The exception to this was Jim Furyk. Rather than use a tee, Jim took his hybrid and pounded the tee box in the same spot several times from back to front, creating a tiny mound of raised turf atop which he delicately perched his ball. I would expect nothing less from him.
The try-hard apparel award goes to Kevin Streelman, who had big buttons on the back of his FootJoys and a hat that said “Streels” across the back. I stayed strong and refused to photograph him.
Chris Kirk has a
Source: https://nolayingup.com/blog/sunday-thoughts-deutsche-bank-championship