Galloway National is a Fazio-designed track in southern New Jersey just across the bay from Atlantic City. It neighbors a National Wildlife Refuge where the opening and closing holes hug the marshland and the middle of the course winds through mature tree stands. This combination of ocean and forest holes reminded me of Spyglass Hill, where I spent the majority of my years while working for Pebble Beach Resorts. This opportunity to play was a late add to our itinerary thanks to a friendship between Brent at Metedeconk and AJ, who manages the team at Galloway. I like to say great dudes hang out with great dudes. From the gate to the first tee, the kindness and energy of the staff was similar to Metedeconk, which means AJ is also a thoughtful and caring leader.
Today, our fourth would be our family friend, Frank. Frank spent a half century in the big leagues with a variety of teams including the Phillies. He is happily retired and lives in New Jersey with his wife, Cathie. For baseball fans, he also has a podcast: Planes, Trains, Buses, and Ballparks. Our friendship began almost 20 years ago when he was trying to arrange for Charlie Manuel, the Phillies Manager, to play Pebble Beach. At that time, I was in a position to help, but Frank has given me much more over the years than I was ever able to give him.
During this time period, I was doing what most dads are doing–coaching their sons in Little League. I was an Orioles fan growing up because I liked the color of their uniforms. But since Billy rhymed with Philly, our teams these years were known as Billy’s Phillies. Once Frank got hold of this bone, he was like a massive Turkish Kangal with a 700 plus PSI bite force. He arranged for my sons to get on the field before a game against the Giants, where they met Charlie along with all-stars Shane Victorino, Jimmy Rollins, and Jim Thome. He secured signed jerseys of my son’s favorite players at the time, Ryan Howard and Jack Cust. He sent me boxes of MLB batting practice baseballs that provided more pop during our hitting sessions and I shared with the kids. He got our players signed bats from Charlie Manuel and even had their General Manager send us a signed letter for winning our League Championship. He also gifted me a head to toe Phillies Manager’s Uniform, which every Mom on the Monterey Peninsula is grateful I never wore in public. So, I am sure one could imagine that since Galloway National is a stone’s throw away from his home, he was getting called to the mound to be our fourth player.
Like most Tom Fazio courses, there is no hidden trouble. But his design superpower is creating visually stunning golf holes where you want to bite off more than you can chew. His doglegs usually have trouble at the corners where they look like you can carry them, but you can’t. When one hits into this trouble, the feeling is similar to a reliever coming in with runners at first and third and no outs. It’s possible to wiggle out of the jam on occasion, but you’ll usually take some damage. Alongside our caddie, Gary, the four of us were ready to play ball.
My Jailbird stayed hot early and I was the recipient of some ridiculous reads by Gary. I rolled in a 15 foot par putt at the 2nd, burned the edge on a 30 footer at the 3rd, and rolled in a 25 footer at the 4th. I call the putter “The Great Eraser,” and I (with Gary as my tutor) was efficiently scrubbing strokes off my scorecard. The ball striking on the front was sub-standard and my chipping always sucks, but thanks to my girl, I turned in even par. I opened at the 10th with a solid drive and a 6 iron to 25 feet. But then, like virtually every man on the planet can relate to, I inadvertently did something wrong and pissed off my Shorty.
I three whipped the 10th, missing an uphill 2 footer. I hit the stick at the par 5 11th in two, but the ball deflected into the light fringe where I three putted again. There was continued awkward silence between us at the 12th and 13th with knee knocking two putts. After a stabbed one-handed chip at the 14th, I was facing an uphill 20 footer that I knew could make or break my round. It was time to apologize even though I didn’t know what I was apologizing for. Boom! Dead center and I was back in her good graces.
I parred 15-16-17 and by the time we reached the 18th, the rain had picked up along with a cold wind off the Bay straight into my face. After a powder puff drive, I head-butted a 4-iron into the front bunker and chubbed the recovery to the front of the green, The hole was cut in the back left on a downslope. I hit my approach putt a little firm and it almost skated off the green. I had about 12 feet to avoid a closing double bogey and a self-imposed trip down to the Minor Leagues. Anyone that knows me knows that I’m allergic to doubles. I would compare it to giving up homers with runners on base–it’s hard to recover from–and with this being the 18th there were no remaining recovery holes. I had runners on 1st and 3rd with one out in the 9th and I needed The Jailbird to deliver my best pitch. She did, and I signed for a respectable 74.
Unfortunately, as I write this, our round at Aronimink has been canceled due to weather. But Frank has me covered once again. Phillies-Brewers tonight at 6:40pm at Citizens Bank Park!
