Inside the Ropes: Saucon Valley's McCool volunteers at Phoenix Open |
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I haven’t attended the Phoenix Open in years. Even though we are in the “valley of the sun” during the winter months, and obviously love golf, the thought of maneuvering through 100,000 plus fans in one location sends me directly to my favorite chair, where the sights and sounds of tournament coverage is delivered to me in beautiful high definition.
My previous “Open” (as it’s referred to by golf locals) was at Phoenix Country Club. PCC, built in the early 1920s, is a beautiful, tree-lined layout located in central Phoenix just a few minutes from downtown. It was considered the tightest driving course on the PGA Tour. However, the maximum gallery at the club was limited to around 18,000 per day. So in 1987, the presenting sponsor Phoenix Thunderbirds, in cooperation with the PGA Tour, moved the event to the spacious Tournament Players Club in nearby Scottsdale, Ariz. The best way to appreciate the “largeness” of everything at TPC Scottsdale is to visit the club some other time during the season. There is space everywhere. Only when one realizes the reason it was built in the first place was to accommodate this tournament does it all make sense.
The only other time I considered attending the tournament in recent years was in 1998 and 2000. In those years, I attempted to qualify to play. On each occasion, I shot 66 and failed to qualify by three strokes both times. Someone asked me at the time if I was discouraged since I played so well and missed. “Not as discouraged as the young man who shot 63, and lost in a sudden-death playoff for the only qualifying spot,” was my reply. It’s a tough business out there, and to borrow a phrase, “these guys are good!” By the way, both times the player shooting 63 in qualifying didn’t even come close to making the cut in the tournament. Go figure.
The call
On Tuesday of tournament week, as I prepared to spend another Phoenix Open in the comfort of my living room, my cell phone rings. It’s my pal Rich from Tucson, and he’s asking if I’m interested in working the tournament “inside the ropes” as a volunteer for the Golf Channel. Turns out the job involves being a spotter, which I’ll explain later. My wife Carolyn overhears the conversation and asks if there’s room for her also. “Of course,” Rich said. So it is agreed Carolyn will work Thursday, and Friday, and I will work the weekend.
Our other friend, Dan, has made arrangements with the couple in charge of coordinating volunteers to pick up all the credentials ahead of time. This way, there will be less confusion on Thursday. Carolyn meets Rich and Dan Thursday morning at a Starbucks near TPC, and from there, it’s off to work. Because I cannot make the orientation on the first day, our friends doing the coordinating decide it’s OK for her to fill me in.
Carolyn has a wonderful time both days. She draws the Ricky Fowler group on Friday, and sees some great golf, but more importantly, has a great time spotting. The job of the spotter is to walk with the group and to keep notes on how many strokes have been taken, the order of play for each shot, and any other significant developments (eagle putts, etc.). You wear a Golf Channel hat and headset. Otherwise, there is not a dress code other than golf appropriate attire. You are in contact with a person who serves as the go between with the producer, who in turn is giving information to on-air commentators Rich Lerner, Brandel Chamblee, and Frank Nobilo. You are the eyes and ears on the course. The Golf Channel folks can see much of what is going on over the television monitors, but rely on the spotter for this important information.
Welcome to the Phoenix Open
Now it’s the weekend, and my turn. I’m eager to help and looking forward to being part of a “golf major production.” My instructions tell me to be at the Golf Channel compound between 9:30 and 10 a.m. I follow the directions on the back of my parking pass, and this takes me to the Hayden Rd. exit off the 101 loop. My parking lot is designated “employee lot #9,” and is easily found just a quarter mile on the left. I am waved through, and proceed to a spot facing Hayden Rd. I choose this spot in anticipation of any “senior moment,” so I will be able to easily remember where to find my car among the several hundred already in this lot.
I walk the length of a long par three to a spot marked by a sign reading “employee shuttle.” I take my place in line, and about 15 minutes later, the first of two shuttles arrives. I’m the last person in the second van. It travels at least one mile, maybe more, negotiating turns, and moving through various traffic checkpoints until at last we are adjacent to the main entrance. The large sign proclaims “Welcome to the Waste Management Phoenix Open.” The van turns left, and stops in front of the first of several large white trailers. I have arrived at the Golf Channel compound.
I begin to make my way through the compound. It is a very busy place. People are constantly coming and going. There is equipment everywhere. Due to inclement weather, the more sophisticated looking gear is sheltered under tents. I meet Mike, who turns out to be here for the same reason. Mike tells me our contact, Steve, will meet with us in the lunch tent. It is there we will receive our instructions and assignments. The lunch tent is at the very rear of the compound, but directions prove unnecessary, as the aroma, and constant flow of people draws me to my destination. The atmosphere is very friendly and feels more like a family picnic. I was impressed to see on-air commentator Frank Nobilo sitting and conversing with several behind the scenes crew members. It was obvious these folks like their work and each other.
Steve, the Golf Channel employee in charge of all spotters, arrives and takes a seat at the end of the table. He doesn’t speak for several minutes. He is busy putting materials together and making notes on pairing sheets. He hands out clipboards and TV credentials to each of us. “I have two rules I want you to follow today,” he said. “First, have fun. Secondly, remember you are never wrong. You might give me incorrect information sometimes, but you can never be wrong.”
This was Steve’s way of putting all of us rookies at ease. He proceeded to go over some of the important details. For instance, we were instructed to not use numbers when reporting scores. Steve just needed to know eagle, birdie, par, bogey, etc. We needed to know the order of play in our group on any given shot. Also, even though official scorers are assigned to each group, we also needed to keep track of each player’s score on a hole by hole basis. So we needed to wait for all players to “hole out,” but also be able to get ahead on the next hole in order to spot the order of their next shots.
A little easier said than done, but nonetheless, doable. You need to be constantly on the move and aware of the situation with your group. In a way, it reminds me of baseball. That is to say, you might stand around in right field all afternoon without any action, but you still need to be ready in case the ball suddenly decides to come your way. You never knew when Steve might call out your name over the radio.
If Steve asked you for information while you were in close proximity of a player, and you couldn’t talk, he wanted us to use an interesting method. We were instructed to blow into the microphone once for yes, twice for no, or in some cases, blow once for every stroke taken. He told a funny story about a female spotter who was asked to blow into the microphone for every stroke a player had taken. She blew seven times, and then said “I’m, I’m…” then there was no further communication. Turns out the player had made a 10 on the hole, and the woman, trying to relay this information, found herself hyperventilating and finally passed out. She was fine the next day, but brought along a paper bag just in case.