When I am playing a new course, I enjoy doing a bit of research before I arrive on site. I will find the scorecard yardages and a photo gallery to be modestly prepared for the challenge. Tralee was re-designed by my golf hero, Arnold Palmer, in 1984 when the club acquired some additional farmland. The narrative on the course was that the front nine was ok and the back nine was difficult. The photos were impressive, but I didn’t put much stock in the online reels because they were obviously either (1) enhanced for Instagram followers, or (2) taken on the only clear, calm, 80 degree day in the history of Ireland.
After another skillful drive by Norrie, who is somehow impervious to my constant yapping, we arrived at Tralee. After loading up my trolley, I found the best range we’ve seen all week, with cows down the right hand side and a sweeping view of the links on the left. It was an impressive landscape and the perfect venue to diagnose a remedy for my ailing golf swing. I took a risk and wore my powder blue pants with the mentality if you choose that color, you better be playing from the fairway. I ended that concept with a 40 yard slice off the first tee into the dunes. It was so far right, a caddie on the 18th tried to pick it up but we successfully waved him off from the tee. My new friend Chris from Vessel had been giving me the business about the pants since we’d left the hotel, and I briefly considered covering them up with my nondescript black rain pants. Chris was my opposition today and he was already in my head. Not a cracking start.
Me and Nathan paired up again opposite Chris and Ben, a new arrival and former rugby player. This man’s back was wider than some of the fairways I’ve been trying to find this week, so that physical intimidation combined with Chris’ sharp wit had me immediately off my game. Ben exclusively hit a 3 hybrid off every tee, very often past my drives, which did nothing for my confidence.
After the first, the views really opened up. The 2nd was a Cape par 5 and a sharp dogleg right, with ocean views to the horizon in all directions. Dogleg rights are rare on Palmer designed courses because he was a right to left player. Similarly, you will find most Nicklaus holes swing left to right due to his preferred shot.
The third reminded me of the 15th at Cypress Point, which is very high praise indeed. But I will take it one step further because Cypress Point doesn’t have an ancient medieval watch tower behind the green that dates back to the 11th century. After three holes, we all looked at one another and simultaneously said, “this is the weak nine?” Nathan and I were also one up.
We made our way through some inland holes then found ourselves perched on the edge of a cliff on the 8th tee, another Cape Hole but swinging right to left. It reminded me of the tee shot on the 18th at Pebble Beach, but instead of blocking one into the short right bunker like I do at home, I actually hit a decent one down the middle. We were two up and in full control until Chris canned a birdie from about 10 yards short of the green to cut the lead in half. We turned 1-up.
It has been amazing to me how often I have run into people and places from home during this trek around Ireland. In this case, a Pasatiempo bag caught my eye next to the snack bar. I bartended in my early years there and my drink pouring was like my chipping–very heavy handed. I never got blamed for sky rocketing costs because I was only working one day per week and playing six. That was a great job. More importantly, we were about to start the more highly regarded back nine after an impressive front. Then a very impressive front moved in with hard winds and rain.
When I make a par that looks like an 8, my sons call it a “Dad Par.” The 10th was one of those moments. I squibbed a drive off to the right that somehow stayed on the fairway side of the dunes. Then, off a hook lie in the fescue, I tried to rotate a five wood into a crosswind which had perhaps a 2% chance of success. Somehow, my ball was found in a deep cavern of grass to the right, between the 10th green and the 11th tee. My third shot was miraculous. I actually put my 2nd hand on a 60 yard recovery pitch and found the fringe. From 20 feet into a strong headwind, I slapped it in to halve Chris, who I hadn’t seen for 15 minutes because he played the hole properly. A small pinch of revenge for the wisecracks on my powder blue pants, which I was forced to cover up for the rest of the day due to the squall.
From the 11th through the 17th, I can’t properly find the words to describe the views and the dunes we played through. From the 11th green there was a view of a crescent shaped dune and rock outcroppings that surrounded a placid bay with water as blue as Bermuda. Fairways slithered through the landscape and plateaued greens were protected by valleys of native fescue in front and massive sand mountains in back. And the canvas was accentuated by 300 foot cliffs pressing against the Atlantic. I think Arnold Palmer said it best. “I may have designed the front nine, but God designed the back.”
Oh yeah, Nathan and I won 3 & 2.
