By Hugh Menzies
Brian Schuman created the inaugural Long Island National Hickory Championship to debut on the weekend of Sept. 16-18. He chose a weekend when no other hickory event was scheduled. Unfortunately, the Benvenue event at Rocky Mount in North Carolina then came along and drew off many potential entrants.
Benvenue seems to have been a fun event. But those who missed Long Island National missed a treat at a golf course they may otherwise never get to play. The Long Island National Golf Club very much reminded me of the Donald Ross course at French Lick in terms of the short gnarly rough backed up by fescue; the latter giving rise to the local rule of “if you hit into it, drop another ball, take a stroke penalty, and play on.” Long Island did not have French Lick’s heat or hills but it did have some water on the back nine and a steady wind flowing over the links-like terrain. Hard to believe this was potato fields before Robert Trent Jones Jr. went to work on it 12 years ago.
The Benvenue conflict and the awkwardness of getting to Riverhead on New York’s Long Island from either the South or Midwest no doubt scared some players away. Enid and I were at Niagara-on-the-Lake the weekend before (for the C.B. MacDonald Challenge) and wanted to visit long-time friends in the Hamptons, 40 minutes further east on the South Fork of Long Island. So, it made sense to play in Brian’s event.
Sadly, we were among the few to show up. Six of us teed it up on Saturday morning. Brian and his striking significant other, Patrice Goldie, were accompanied by Asher Fried, Larry Lodi, Tim Alpaugh, and myself. A photographer from Newsday, one of the nation’s premier newspapers, came along to snap us in action and our photos, along with an entertaining story, appeared in the newspaper’s print and on-line edition. (See it here.)
The skies were partially blue, patterned with clouds fleeting across the flat landscape and bringing perspective to the long horizons peculiar to that part of the country. The light possessed the clarity that attracts painters.
Come noon, we were announced individually on the first tee. As the person to strike the first ball in this event, all I could say was “Phew” as my drive travelled an acceptable distance and more or less split the fairway. None of us played a practice round, though several of the participants were somewhat familiar with the course. The first nine went very well for me. The second nine, where water and a carry or two came into play, not quite so well – 43-54.
The wind, bringing a touch of fall chill, arrived in some strength on the second day. Scores mounted and two players called its quits. One of them was Patrice who, having the women’s championship wrapped up, joined Enid in the clubhouse for a restorative toddy.
Later in the afternoon, the wind faded and we experienced the absolute delight of a round in the luminous late afternoon light. Brian’s swing went into over-drive and he came home in 39 to take individual gross honors. Tim Alpaugh won low net and your correspondent managed to sneak second in that category. Hey, second out of four finishers is in the upper bracket.
A word about Tim Alpaugh. He recently penned a delightful novella titled Claret Dreams. It features a young man who plays in the 1962 British Open with a set of clubs made by Old Tom Morris. It is a quick, easy and altogether enjoyable read. You will come away smiling. I commend it to you all; perhaps that Christmas present for your favorite hickory player who has everything. Tim is no mean wielder of hickories himself.
Brian had spared no expense with trophies. Quite apart from winners and runners-up awards, and we all received a commemorative silver medallion fashioned by Alex Kirkwood & Sons of Edinburgh, Scotland, and various humorous mementos. I , myself, received the “most honest player” award as posting scores like mine apparently was transparently honest.
At the closing lunch, we discussed the lack of participation, which Brian took philosophically as what can happen when you try to start something new. The course, at 5,603 yards off the black tees was a bit challenging for senior players, given the tough rough and the likelihood of a breeze. Perhaps playing the first nine off the blacks at 2,641 yards and then the silver (women) at 2,688 yards might be more appropriate for the oldsters among us.
That said, we agreed that outer Long Island is not an easy driving destination for many hickory players and perhaps a venue in New Jersey or Massachusetts would be better attended. Some consideration was given to a Tillinghast course in New Jersey. But that is for Brian to contemplate. We will no doubt hear from him down the line.
But if he does schedule it next year, I urge those who were not there to give it a go. Even if your golf turns out to be so-so there are always those improving wineries on the nearby North Fork and where there is good wine there is good food. And the Hamptons make for fun home-gawking.
For myself, the event was an absolute delight and I am glad I was there.