was having a long, rough day out on the links.The word “mulligan” and “slice” continued tocrop up in our conversation. But then again, Iwas only 15 years old and didn’t know any better.
When I walked up to the eighth hole, I was in a mood to justlet it fly and swing with little concern (unless my ball hit some-one at the tee box on the second hole.) I pulled out a 7-iron,which for a 134-yard hole was way too much club, even for myskinny frame. I didn’t care.I remember staring down at the ball before swinging, noticinga little crack on it. Didn’t care. I swung.The ball went straight and true, heading right towards the hole.I was calm on the outside, but inside my body was jumping for joy.When the ball hit the ground it disappeared.I sighed, thinking at least my day on the course had been con-sistent. My golfing buddy at the time was Mike Gassner (nowMichael Gassner, Rancho Cucamonga court commissioner), wholooked at me with a sorry face as we walked to the green.When I got to the green, my ball was nowhere to be seen.Mike and I fanned out behind the green, thinking I hit the ball toofar. Why couldn’t I have used an 8 or 9-iron! Getting impatient,I naturally walked on the green to tend the flagstick for Mike’ssecond shot.I grabbed the stick and looked down. It was then I noticed myball was lodged in the cup, with a now-arger crack smiling rightup at me. I just shot a hole-in-one on the fly. Tee to cup.Needless to say, the events after that get a little blurry giventhis was 42 years ago. But I do remember running down a hillpast the ninth hole to the golf shop screaming about what justhappened. No need to finish my round, I was done for the day.The gentleman in the golf shop seemed a little alarmed, givenhe had this crazy kid running towards him with ball in hand. Ishowed him the ugly-looking ball, told him some version of thisstory and pointed to Mike at the top of the hill as my witness,who kindly waved to acknowledge the event.The gentleman in the golf shop had to figure this nutty storywas true and immediately pulled out a small trophy with a bignumber “1” that also sported a nice spot to hold the ball.I’ve told this story a few times lately, not only because this isstill the only hole-in-one in my sporadic golfing career, but alsobecause all these events occurred at the Claremont Golf Course.Claremont’s only golf course and one that is closing after 53years due to dropping attendance.I consider this course a Claremont institution and hope maybethere’s something that can be done to save it. I’m even willing tothrow in free advertising to promote it. Maybe this is a time theCollege Consortium can simply step up and do something forthe city. Be a partner. Do the right thing. Invest in the course in-stead of let it go brown. Maybe Golden State Water can lowerwater rates and show they are a partner, too. Hey, anyone candream.
by Peter Weinberger
Claremont COURIER/Friday, September 27, 2013
MY SIDE OF THE LINE/
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Fond memories on the golf course
COURIER photo/Peter WeinbergerThe 8th hole at the Claremont Golf Course is short, but offersscenic views of the course. It's also where the COURIER pub-lisher got a hole-in-one over 40 years ago.