Word: parred
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1979
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Dave Hill, who was leading after three rounds at a spectacular eight under par, seemed to be running away with the tournament. Two shots back, tied for second, were two men who epitomize the drab, jockish, predictable touring pro: Tom Weiskopf, the close-cropped, 6 ft. 3 in. Mr. All-American Boy who walks around as if there were a one-iron shoved up his ass; and Jim Weichers, a 6 ft. 2 in., 220 lb. midriff-bulging country bumpkin type, who lets his tongue hang out when he swings a golf club. Hill had to win out over those...
Incredibly enough, Killer might have been right. The portable scoreboard read WEISKOPF -3, ELDER - 1, and REGALADO -5! Somewhere along the way, Killer and his man had picked up two shots on par and three shots on Weiskopf. Still Weichers or Hill could easily be even with or ahead of Regalado. And the young Mexican still had a tricky putt for a par. It seemed doubtful he would lead for long, if in fact he was leading...
That left the 17th, a 441-yard par 4. It was a treacherous hole. The tee was set back in a funnel of trees overlooking a narrow creek. About 200 yards out, the hole began a deceptively sharp 75-degree dogleg right toward a 2800-square-foot green. There was deep rough and a line of thick trees on both sides of the fairway, and in front of the green there was a gaping pond that had already served as an unwelcome commode for the balls and dreams of more than a few players in the Pleasant Valley field...
...stumbled frantically down the sloping rough to the left of the par-3 16th, through teeming mobs of Ban-Lon, Bermuda, cotton, Rayon double-knit and polyester, past the suspicious tournament marshals with the bright red shirts and the white styrofoam pith helmets, and on up to the place from which the players and their caddies had to exit the 17th green. "The man who leaves this green with the lowest score is gonna win the tournament," I said to a red-faced, red-eyed young man with a potbelly and glasses and a Budweiser flop hat who was sitting...
...went off the tee with a four-wood--it's really a two-iron shot, but Victor can't hit a two-iron--then we went with a little seven iron from 160 yards out on the slope. I knew when we made that six-footer for par we were all right. But we had to go with a driver off the tee at 18 because Weiskopf was only one shot back, and could turn around and birdie the hole...