PERSPECTIVE FROM THE 19^TH HOLE:  This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all of my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

That’s what I managed to do – dodging a bullet — when the American Express Pro Golf Tournament, here in La Quinta, California, changed the way the four-round event was to be played.

The impetus for the change?  Covid-19.

To read farther in this blog, I suspect you have to be either an avid golfer or someone interested in the subject.

So I continue. 

Without the virus, I was scheduled to serve as a walking marshal at the La Quinta Country Club Course, only a couple of blocks from our winter home down here.  Then, the change came.

Amateurs, who were going to play with pros on the first three days of the tournament, were told that the virus meant they would not be able to play.  In turn, that meant the La Quinta Country Club course would be dropped from the playing rotation, leaving the PGA West Nicklaus and Stadium courses as the tournament venues.

Volunteers at La Quinta – including me — were told they would not be needed this year, but would be enrolled again next year.

So, why the bullet image?

Well, it’s what my assignment was going to be, a tough one.

First, because there also were no spectators this year due to Covid-19, there would be no need for walking marshals, which has been my assignment for the last two years.  I knew about the change a couple months ago, so had an opportunity to choose another activity.

I chose to be a “walking scorer.”

Then, the reality closed in.

Being a walking scorer is a complicated job, one that (1) helps to run a tournament, (12) produces a wealth of at-the-time, on-the-ground statistics, and (3) provides information to those managing TV coverage.  It is all part of what is called “The Shot-Link” system, developed by a company that has a contract with the PGA Tour.

So, the point is that, as a walking scorer, you cannot screw up.

Based on an on-line training regime I took (and passed), here is a summary of tasks for a walking scorer:

• You are given a tablet to carry around with you as you walk 18 holes very close to the players on the fairways and near the greens.

• When a player is getting ready to hit a shot, you have to click the location – teeing ground, landing area, or green.

• Then, as the player approaches the ball, you hit another click.

• Then, when he hits the ball, you click that he has done so.

• Then, on or off a green, when a player holes a shot, you have to click that.

• If the player has only a very short putt and makes that put, you have to click “tap-in.”

• Then, you have to click again to verify you have the right score for the hole.

• And, before all shots are holed, you have to strike a click if a player is in a penalty area, plus another click of that player needs a rules official’s help.

Get the picture?  Complicated!

To illustrate the complexity, one of the comments in the on-line training regime was that, as a walking scorer, you are NOT supposed to “watch golf,” in the normal sense of the phrase.  You are on-site to make all the clicks in a very timely fashion no matter how good or how bad the golf is.

As I faced this prospect, I had mixed emotions, though I think I would have decided to show up to verify that I could complete the task.  Then, in succeeding years, I would be more comfortable functioning as a walking scorer, having survived the trial run.

So, bring on the American Express tournament next year.  Between then and now, I’ll steal myself for another test drive.