Gettysburg Times (07/18/07): "Pitzer masters the Links"

BY SCOT ANDREW PITZER
Times Staff Writer

I was flabbergasted late Monday morning while standing near the first tee box at the Links at Gettysburg.
Duramed FUTURES Tour pro Stephanie George had just cranked a tee shot 230 powerful yards.
"She's good," whispered playing partner, and Times newsroom colleague, Jarrad Hedes.
With butterflies swirling in my belly, I asked Hedes if he was going to hit his ball down the par-four, 335-yard fairway.
"You go ahead," he insisted.
My shot barely cleared the ladies' tee.
Media personalities from around the south-central Pennsylvania and northern Maryland regions played the front nine Monday at the Links with two Duramed FUTURES Tour golfers, George and Ashley Grier.
The tour, the developmental branch of the female LPGA Tour, is visiting the Links next month, Aug. 24-26, for the second edition of the Gettysburg Championship.
Monday's outing was my first ever at the Links.
Having covered the inaugural Gettysburg Championship last year, Monday provided me with an advantageous opportunity to see for myself the conditions — narrow fairways, daunting hazards, and lightning quick greens — that the professionals must overcome.
If you've never witnessed these women play golf, trust me: they're good.
Very, very good.
"Are you going to hit your ball?" Hedes asked.
Yes — and it skipped a grand distance of 35 yards, but at least it was back on the fairway.
"You need to shorten up your swing," Hedes said, "and calm down."
Unbelievable.
We were playing with two professional female golfers, and Hedes was the one giving me tips.
As I approached my ball, sitting roughly 120 yards from the green, I couldn't help but notice the softness of the fairway.
Unlike other courses where you nearly fracture your wrist swinging at a fairway ball, the Links' fairways are cushioned by a blanket of delicate grass.
I grabbed a wedge and drilled the ball for my first above-average swing of the day.
"Great job!" shouted Gettysburg Championship tournament director Duff Forsythe.
The jitters had ceased.
Unfortunately, the flight of my ball did not, as it eventually landed in a mammoth creek that fronted the green.
Good thing I brought a lot of balls.
Following an eight on the first hole, I blasted my tee shot into the stratosphere above the par-four 382-yard second hole.
Two hundred yards later, after my tee shot crossed a grassy gully, the ball landed in the middle of the fairway.
A boisterous round of applause emerged from my group of five playing partners.
"You'll be fine now that your butterflies are gone," George said as she high-fived me.
Hedes and I were within 20 yards of each other, and as we approached our balls, Forsythe offered us a suggestion.
"There's another gully in front of the green, so you may want to lay up," Forsythe told us.
We did...perfectly.
Then I chipped my ball across the crater onto the green.
"If you give yourself an opportunity to make pars here, you can shoot a good score," George said.
As I drove the cart to the green, I dumped Hedes off to look for his ball in the woods.
My ball was a solid 40 feet from the cup, on the opposite side of the green, atop a sharp slope.
"Just give it a tap," Forsythe said, "because it'll roll."
It most certainly did.
The ball kept rolling...and rolling...and rolling...past the cup and off the other side of the green.
I three putted back up the incline to finish with a triple bogey.
"You almost have to play this course every day to get a good grasp of the green speed," George said.
The par-three 160-yard third hole was another thriller, as the green was backed by a steep cliff.
"I've seen golfers actually play their ball off the rocks," laughed George.
She, of course, smacked her Titleist onto the green within 25 feet of the pin.
Mine landed in the two-inch rough that borders the green.
"We'd like to get the rough to three inches by the time the tournament starts," Forsythe said.
After nearly coming out of my shoes chipping the ball from the thick grass, I four-putted for a disappointing six.
George two-putted for par, and then left with Forsythe to join another group.
After shooting a seven on the par-five 440-yard fourth hole, and accumulating another seven on the par-four 334-yard fifth hole, I managed a double bogey on the deceiving par-three 125-yard sixth hole.
"I'm fatigued," Hedes told me as we approached the monster par-five, 558-yard seventh tee, where Grier and Gettysburg Championship Pro-Am chairman Tom Dougherty joined our group for the final three holes.
The tee box sits atop a towering hill that overlooks the fairway, caressed between two intimidating lakes.
I hit my ball into the weeds that front the tee box.
"Here we go again," I said aloud.
Grier ripped into her ball hard, but it landed in the lake that borders the right side of the fairway.
After dropping my ball at the bottom of the hill, I proceeded to swing five times, lacing the white sphere in and out of the fairway's left rough.
Finally, I was able to wedge the ball onto the green where I two-putted for eight.
"I had some difficulty with that one," I told Hedes, wiping the sweat that drenched my face.
My playing partner chuckled.
"Difficulty?" Hedes replied. "You hit your ball a half dozen times and it only went 75 yards."
If we both weren't Elizabethtown College alum, I probably would have backhanded him.
At the par-four, 298-yard eighth hole, I introduced myself to Grier.
"The sun is taking its toll on me," I said.
Normally, she walks the entire 18 holes.
"In college," she said as the sun-filled sky continued to swell with sultry heat, "we'd walk 36 holes a day."
The eighth hole tee box is positioned behind a massive British Open-like grassy ditch, with a thick wooded area to the left of the fairway, which bends dogleg left. To club your ball to the fairway, you need to slam it a good 200 yards.
All of my playing partners pulled heavy drivers from their bags. I pulled a five-wood from mine.
"You're going to need a stick a lot bigger than that," Hedes said, chastising me.
He hit his tee shot into the woods.
Dougherty also clubbed, not one, but two tee balls into the trees.
Grier cleared the grassy hazard, but her ball landed in the rough that straddles a right-side fairway bunker.
"Here goes nothing," I said as I positioned myself aside my tee.
I was shocked.
My ball also cleared the gully, as well as the tight fairway, landing in the bunker near Grier's ball.
"A bigger club, huh?" I asked Hedes.
He ignored my retort.
As we walked to our balls, I pondered aloud how in the world I was going to hit my ball, which was buried deep in the sandy beach, a good 80 yards from the green.
"Just hit it like you would with a normal swing," suggested Grier. "And hit it hard."
I swung, connected, and spanked it within 20 yards of the green.
Grier fist-pumped me, and then drilled hers out of the rough and onto the green, within six feet of the cup.
After chipping, I two-putted for bogey.
Elated, I shook every hand that was in my vicinity.
"Should I be this happy after a bogey?" I asked Dougherty.
He replied: "Heck yes. Especially here."
Our final battle was the par-four 363-yard ninth hole, home to a tee box that faces a challenging uphill fairway.
I hit my best tee shot of the day, hammering the ball straight and center more than 200 yards.
"Now go get a par," Grier said.
I tried, but the fast greens resulted in a two-put double bogey. My scorecard, at the conclusion of the front nine, totaled 59.
"You really need to keep your composure when you're at this course," Grier said. "This will bring out the best scores from the best players."
She's right.
I butchered the course Monday. Next month, twelve dozen of the sport's finest women will master the Links.
I can't wait for the FUTURES.
Scot Pitzer is a Times news reporter.