Old Hickory, Теnn, was a factory town. Judy Eller was a factory kid. The factory was DuPont. When the golf pro at the local DuPont-owned course retired, the company asked her dad, Harold Eller, who had learned the game caddieing at Oakland Hills Country Club in Michigan, to leave his factory job and become the pro. He was about 40 at the time and for the next 34 years his daughter is hard pressed to remember a day when he wasn’t working on the course. Legend has it that Judy took her first steps on the putting green. The distance from home to her dad’s shop was three fairways. She played her first city tournament at age 9 and her competitive soul emerged. “After I was beat, 5 and 4,1 said, ‘Can’t we just play a few more holes?’”
That was 1949. Fast forward 12 years and this young Tennesseean had waltzed through a dance card of rather large victories. Two-time U.S. Girls’ Junior champion (1957,1958), national collegiate champion, seven time Tennessee Women’s Amateur champion. She played on the U.S. Curtis Cup team in 1960 and then the golf resume starts to fade. Marriage, motherhood, four kids — life took over and the clubs collected rust in a garage.
It is 24 years before she decides to play again. Most of her game returns, certainly the competitive thirst. Then, by a delicious twist of fate, she winds up using her one year of college eligibility to compete on the women’s team at Barry University, a Division II school in Miami Shores, Fla So that now, at 61, Street, a grandmother of six, is apparently the oldest competitor in NCAA history.

There are a few other things you should know about Judy Eller Street. She speaks with a wonderful Tennessee lilt. She knows practically everyone in the world and they all like her. She still wears funky hats on the course. She still has a lyrical swing. She’s still fun and optimistic as all get out. She bakes the world’s best banana bread. Blythe Danner would play her in the movie. Here, from the pages of her diary and a series of interviews, is the rest of her story.
September 1: Another new beginning …I can’t believe that I am acl11ally getting the opportunity to compete on a team at the collegiate level. Even though I won the national intercollegiate golf championship for the University of Miami in the ’50s, we did not have a team, like the players of today. I was offered a scholarship to play [for Barry] from a friend of a friend of mine.
In 1958, Street drove to Miami in her grandfather’s coughing 1950 Chrysler. There were three other
girls on the team. She jokes that the coach found them by putting an ad in the paper asking if anyone had clubs. The team had no uniforms and no formal practices. They played one tournament, in Jamaica with the men’s team. Street was the only one to play in the AIAW Championships (this was back before the NCAA held such events for women). The LPGA Tour had 26 events worth $200,000 in prize money. Term papers were written on manual typewriters.

September 3:1 must say i was a little apprehensive going to meet the girls on the team, who are all at least 10 years younger than my youngest daughter. After our meeting, Renee [Trudeau], an incoming freshman, asked me to do an interview for her speech class. I mentioned playing against my good friend JoAnne Camri in the Intercollegiate finals, and she ha d no idea who JoAnne was.
I realized how old I really am.
As a college freshman in’59 Eller was the AIAW champion and as a sophomore she was runner up to her great friend and LPGA star-to-be, JoAnne Gunderson Carner (who she fondly refers to as “Gundy”)- Eller played on the Curtis Cup team in L960 with Judy Bell (who she fondly refers to as “Ding-Dong”) and Carner. She also became engaged (after four dates) to Gordon Street, a 23-year-old Tennesseean who worked in the family foundry business. She was a physical education major and didn’t see a career in it. She jokingly refers to her decision to leave and get married as opting for her M-R-S. degree. She says that she never really considered turning pro; she thought it was a rough life.

September 6: I finished the physical with all the other student athletes. In as pleased when tlndoctoi said I was in excellent shape, [didn't tell her that ivlti it Iliad decided to take this big step back into the world ofcollege athletics, [started woiking out with a trainer at 5:30 a.m. three duys a week and lost 20 pounds. IHas filling out a physical health form and it asked и hen [ had last ovulated. I wrote 23 ytais ago.

Now Street drives a shining white Volvo S-8. She's the only woman on the Barry team not on scholarship (she turned it down). Each golfer gets five or six shirts, four pair of shorts, a sweater, shoes, gloves, balls, a rain suit and a $20 per day allowance for meals when on the road. Under NCAA rules, they re allowed to practice 20 hours a week, which translates to three or four sessions. She's traded her Walter Hagen True Temper irons for Top Flite blades, her Hagen persimmon woods for Orlimar metal woods. She hits her irons about the same, but she's much longer (her drives fly 220-240 yards) off the tee. She replaced her old Bull's-Eye putter. Her putting, which used to be a strength, has become a sore spot. This year the LPGA has 34 events, with an average purse of $1.19 million.

September 7: We had to fill out a time management sheet for out academic advisor, Miss Miller. I realized I have no time to eat dinner Mon.-Tues.-Wed.-Thurs!!! My day starts at 5 a.m. and ends at 11:30 p.m. during the week. Sat. and Sun. is for housework and cocktails in the evening. Do you guess I am the first student-athlete who has put a cocktail hour in the time management program?
A senior moment: I missed the team meeting yesterday, I failed to put it on my calendar. I told Coach Write that I guess I have incurred a two-stroke penalty. I'11 make up for my forgetfulness by working on my game hard this week. I have always been motivated by a prize or something that I want- Hie first year [ won the women's state tournament, I had coveted a large leather blue and black golf bag in my dad's shop. He said if I won the state I could have it. Well, that was all I needed. Now Iam motivated to help win the Division II title.
Growing up, Street played golf in spring, summer and fall and basketball in winter. At Dupont Grammar School she helped carry the team to a 55-game winning streak. She was the 5-foot-8M star of Dupont High girls' team, averaging 28 points a game. With her at the post, Dupont took districts or regionals every year except the one when she sprained her ankle in the penultimate game. She had a right hook, a left hook and a sweet jumper. But her swing was even sweeter.

September 8: Played two rounds with JoAnne [Carner] in preparation for my first practice round with the team .. One goal I have set for myself is to try and be a good role model, I played with Noel [Bishop] and Renee. My practice warm up was good, then it was all downhill. I bogeyed the first hole after a tight su ing off the tee but—positive No. 1 — I got up and down from the bunker. Noel 5, Judy, 6, Renee 7. Hole No. 2, short in the fringe, chili-dip my chip shot, chip close and miss a short putt — nervous stroke! …At the last hole, a short par 3, I hit into the bunker on the right I hit a good bunker shot and finally made a putt to finish with par! Noel 40, Renee 42, Judy 44. I finish in the middle of the pack, with the worst round I’ve had all week.
My short-term goal for this week is to shoot 41 or better.
Senior moment No. 2: I mentioned that I was a little nervous about practice. Well, it seems that when I left the house at 11 a.m. I forgot to close the garage door. Positive No. 2—No one came in and walked off with anything.

Street and Carner have been friends since their teens when Carner, a Washington state native, spent her summers with the Ellers so she could compete in eastern events. Carner was a bridesmaid at Street’s wedding and remembers visiting her old friend while she was on tour. “[Husband] Don and I had a travel trailer and the first time we were passing through I said, ‘Have you got room?’ and Judy just started laughing. Then 1 got there and saw this mansion. Her garage apartment was as big as a house.”
Carner was the person Street called in 1994 to help her resurrect her game. The motivation was a phone call from Judy Bell, who invited Street to play in The Saucer, a match for ex-Curtis Cup players held before the actual event, that was taking place that year in Chattanooga.
Street says that when she plays golf with Car-ner, it still feels like summer in Old Hickory. They are the same, they have just got a few more wrinkles and pounds. Street started to play events again, tying for 27th at the 1994 USGA Senior Women’s Amateur.
Golf  re-emerged  in Street’s life as her marriage began falling apart. Eventually, she moved out of her Chattanooga manse and into an apartment in Palm Beach and then the Fort Lauderdale home she lives in today. Jan Allen, a friend and women’s basketball coach at Barry, mentioned Street’s potential  eligibility to Coach White at a school sports banquet.

September 12: I am playing today with Noel, Renee and Kara [Hutton]. Noel knows how to score, is a good scrambler and probably the No  1 player on the team. Renee, a freshman, has a good swing and will be very strong by the time she is a senior or before her senior year.
Kara, a senior from Michigan, is also a solid player. The Division II finals will beplayed [near her hometown] and l am telling the girls that WE will be there. I need to work on concentration. [I got] an e-mail from the coach and he said I had gained some respect from the kids. They are all so nice I hope I can push them to
be their best. I know I wouldn’t want to be beaten by a 60-plus lady.
“When I heard about Judy’s eligibility, I thought it would be a great opportunity for us,” says Barry coach Roger White. “I sent the team an e-mail over the summer telling them that she would be on our team and that she was a fine player.”

The Barry team’s schedule for the spring and fall seasons I consists of nine tournaments. Street plays mostly in the third or fourth spot. She travels with the team in the van. She bunks with teammates on the road. She was given the option to use a pull cart due to knee problems and passed on it, though she admits that her appreciation for caddies has increased.
September 23: My first official day as a team member, playing in my first collegiate tournament since 1959. I met E the team at school at 9:00 so wе could go for a practice round and have teampictures taken. As гие are iixilking to the course I pass a gentlemen who asked me if I have my team ready! After pictures, гие go to Denny’s for my first team vi ml. It was a revelation to know Icould only spend $6 for breakfast. This is afar cry from $20 breakfasts at the Ritz. I will have to say that the oatmeal with raisins, bnnm sugar, bananas was ample plus tu о pieces of bread! After practice the team went to Subway, but I opted to go home. For her first tournament, Street bakes some banana bread for the team. She was exhausted because she had trouble sleeping. She had a nightmare about not being able to get to the tee on time. In her dream, she couldn’t find the tee and her grandchildren were there riding a runaway horse.

September 24: Kara, the captain, designates the outfits we will wear. I love not having to make that decision. This is the first time I have ridden in the van.
I am a little nervous. Only had to go to the bathroom twice before teeing off’. … The best thing I did was hit a good drive off the first tee and manage to par it. Hit a good drive on No. 2 just in the fringe. Miss my putt for bogey. Par next couple of holes by getting up and tit к гн I’mfeeling pretty good but then the wheels begin to come off. Missed a short putt for par and my confidence is shot. A horrendous day putting: 35 putts. Shot 82
“She has so much golfing experience,” says Trudeau, who is from Truckee, Calif. “We trust her. We want her advice.” Trudeau also strategically mentions that she thinks Street’s banana bread helps her play better. “She’s taught us to be kind to everyone. She never gives up. She’s showed us to be encouraging to our competitors because in golf you’re only competing against the course.”

Carner is not surprised at Street’s ability to get on so well with the team. “Judy’s fun and she’s up on everything from movies to food to architecture. She’s always been a kid at heart. And here she is at 61, still being one of the kids.”

October 5: Surprise get together for Kara’s 21st birthday in Rogers office and then practice at Miami Shores. I have a chance to go early to ptractice and hit three large buckets of bolls. Roger and I chat about team dynamics—glad I’m not 20. I made a putt from off the green to win a post-season beer from Roger and Kara, who is legal now.

“She’s done nothing but help our team,” says White. “She’s always steady and when she putts well she shoots in the 70s. The girls feel comfortable around her. They get to hear about her past experiences. She goes the extra mile.”

October 18: I spent most of the day working on my music research paper and wading Forrest Gump for my Liteinture and Film class. Only seven more weeks, two research papers and two essays to go… My admiration far the studentath lete continues to mount. I don’t think I have stayed focused on my goal of shooting 80 or better. I have found it hard to concentrate on my studies and golf. I even cried because I though 11 did poorly on an exam. Never did that, at U of M! Now a liberal arts major, Street is mostly taking courses she says she would never have been interested in 40 years ago; 20th Century Romantic Music, History of Photography, Literature and Film, Philosophy. She loves them all except Philosophy, which she didn’t like 40 years ago and still dislikes. She managed to overcome her biggest fear: writing her first paper. It was about the evolution of women in country music and she got a B+. Her critique of the movie Pocahontas rated an A.

November 13: Tournament, with Lynn University. To my an azement, I hit the ball longer than my fellow competitors, sometimes I was 25 yards longer off the tee — working out with my trainer has really paid off. I wasted too many shots putting. I was surprised that I was not tired playing 36 holes and carrying my bag. The last time I played 36 holes was 35 yeais ago and I had a caddie.
The team finished behind Lynn, a higher-ranked Div. II college that day. At the end of the fall season, Barry’s record is 20-11 and Street’s game isn t quite where she would like it to be.

March 22: We are playing a practice round at, Miromar, the n icest course we have played all year. At about the third orfourth hole a TV cameraman appears. I have never had so much publicity, leant say that it isn’t exciting but what little I have had. I can’t imagine what it must be I like for people like Tiger Woods. The price one pays for stardom. And I am not a star, just a 61-year-old lady who can carry a golf bag and и rite a term paper. Oh, a fitst: I received a senior discount at Sweet Tomatoes for dinner last night. The kids were not hesitant to lemindmeofit. At a practice, a story on Street in Golf Digest circulates. The title phrase “Granny’s Got Game” has freshman Ellen Dow, from Ashland, Ore., shaking her head “They keep saving that, the grandma thing,” she says. “But I just think of her as another player.” It’s true: when the girls play or practice or chat about life, Judy is right there. Adds Dow, “She appears to be a grandmother on the outside: the gray hair. But on the inside, she’s hip-per than any of us. She acts younger than most 20-year-olds.” As the spring’s key events roll by, Street contributes con sistently to the team’s success. Her steady 79-79-83 at the Ryder event is the second low score for the team, which bests Division II rivals Lynn and Rollins. At the Sunshine State Conference Championships in mid-April, Street shoots 83-80 to tie for 13th and the Bucs finish third, their best ever.

April 21: As I think about, the season so far, I can t believe how quickly it’s passed. In a few weeks this whole experience will be over. What a great year it’s been. Nothing changes. Time flies when you’re having fun.
In May, Barry earned its first trip to the NCAA Division II Championships when Street shot a 77 (the second-best score of the day and after a first-round 91) in the South Regional.
Watching the oldest competitor in NCAA history walk off with her teammates, the view from behind is a timeless shot. A group of women strolling down a green carpet with banyan trees, bouganvillea and sky framing the picture. The red and black Barry University bags on their backs clunk with each step. Judy Eller Street’s gray hair is not visible she s just another one of the girls, the tall one in the floppy hat.

While the game enjoys its biggest boom, young girls are an audience that persistently remains on the outside not looking in. by david shefter

Ashley Kent cannot ignore golf. The 11-year-old lives in a private course community in Wilmington, N C. Her parents have a membership at The Country Club of Landfall. Each summer, she participates in the club’s one-week junior golf day camp, where the kids receive instruction and the opportunity to play at week’s end.
Kent enjoys the camp and has shown enough ability and etiquette to earn limited playing privi leges. But she does not play golf on a regular basis. “It takes too much time,” she says. “Golf is such a slow sport. You hit the ball and then you walk or take the cart to play your next shot.”
Especially when compared to her favorite activity: soccer. She plays that sport virtually year-round, drawn by its action, team concept and the intangibles that hook young girls such as Kent from an early age.
Soccer possesses one other key element: a female role model. Mia Hamm has become as big a star in her sport as Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods are in theirs. Successes by U.S. women in the Olympic Games and World Cup have added to the growing interest in women’s soccer. In Wilmington alone, more than 1,200 of the 3,200 or so youths involved in the area’s soccer program are girls, the largest numbers ever for that group.
“Tiger Woods has done for boys [and golf] what Mia Hamm has done for girls’ soccer,” says Miriam Kent, Ashley’s mom.

“I think if there was more promotion [for women's golf] there would be more girls playing.”
Attracting Ashley Kent and other girls to golf is one of the greatest challenges the game faces at a time when unprecedented attention is being paid to juniors. In the three decades since Title IX legislation was passed in the U.S to broaden academic and athletic opportunities for women, participation has exploded in many sports, leaving golf in the dust (see chart below). The game now has the difficult task of breaking a cycle seemingly working a.yaii ist it at all levels:

• The motor skills it requires are difficult to master for the youngest kids, who are increasingly drawn to activities that involve running and jumping.
• It is deemed socially uninteresting for pre-teens and teens,  who gravitate toward team activities that have greater social opportunities during practice and competition.
• Participation numbers are lagging at the high school level and, as a result, col lege scholarships are increasingly going to international players.
• Foreign stars such as Se Ri Рак of Korea, Annika Sorenstam of Sweden and Karrie Webb of Australia dominate the top level of the game, minimizing the presence of U S. role models who might bolster participation in this country.

The game’s leaders are taking notice. One theme of this autumn’s third Golf 20/20 conference, a gathering of dozens of representatives from all segments of the game, will be an examination of women’s participation in the game. In mid-March, LPGA players attended a mandatory weekend player summit during which commissioner Ту Votaw outlined a five-year business plan to help the organization to attract fans “in the increasingly competitive world of sports entertainment”
These questions have risen at a time when Woods’s popularity has brought unprecedented attention to golf in the non-sports press. No matter that it was one of the first professional sports available to women, and that the U.S. Women’s Amateur Championship was first played the same year as the U.S. Amateur and Open. So far, that tradition and efforts to nurture juniors have run into difficulties at the grass-roots level, where girls and young women can play everything from lacrosse to ice hockey, with pro leagues a possibility in basketball, soccer, Softball and volleyball.
“We’re competing with soccer, we’re competing with lacrosse,” says Paula-Brzostowski, director of women’s golf at the Carolinas Golf Association and a college golfer in the late 1980s. “Soccer is such a hot sport in our state. Back then we did one thing; now everyone is into multiple sports. Basketball, volleyball and soccer are just humongous.”
When the U.S. Women’s Open was played in 2001 at North Carolina’s Pine Needles Lodge & GC, local organizers planned to boost golf’s visibility by offering a exhibition match featuring former Women’s Open champions Laura Davdes, Juli Inkster and Betsy King and three professional soccer players. Many of the young girls instead gravitated to Hamm, eagerly seeking an autograph or a simple hello.
“That [other sports' popularity] has hurt golf a lot,” says Doreen Greenberg, a professor at Stockton College of New Jersey and a certified consultant in sports psychology. “A lot [of the perception] has to do with the media… Publicity and exposure really helps. But I think there are enough young golfers out there that can appeal to girls.”
But girls may not find exposure to those role models through television. The LPGA’s first major of 2002, the Kraft Nabisco, was broadcast almost exclusively on cable. Ratings for the final day increased 83 percent from last year but that still left them a paltry 2.2.
One sore point for U.S. golf fans is the low number of home-grown winners on the LPGA. Only 10 of 36 victories last year — and not a single major championship —and three of the first seven this season went to U.S. players.
“We need some dynamic American players,” says Stephen Ham-blin, who oversees the American Junior Golf Association, the country’s most visible junior circuit, which counts 880 girls among its more than 5,000 members.
“Soccer is very organized,” Hamblin says with a wistful tone in his voice. “They have uniforms, organized practices and games right from the start. They go from that to select teams. They are moving you up the ladder very quickly.”
Hamlin’s own children bear witness to the allure of soccer. One of his four daughters started playing the sport before she entered kindergarten, with a coed team through a church. She loved it.
“I never dreamed about starting my kids in golf at the age of 5,” says Hamlin. “Golf is behind the eight ball as far as competing with other sports.”
Soccer skills are easier for you t inters to grasp. Running and kicking a ball seem far simpler than the distance and direction control required to hit a golf ball toward a distant target or worrying about how many strokes it takes.
Dr. Vern Seefeldt, director emeritus for the Institute for the Study of Youth Sports at Michigan State University, conducted a 31- year study that identified 30 fundamental motor skills and then gauged the success of teaching those skills to children as young as 4.
“Soccer and basketball allow [the youngest] children to engage in an activity which is inherently joyful to them, namely, anaerobic running,” Seefeldt says. “Just running up and down the field makes the children feel that they are participating in a socially acceptable way with their friends.”
Running is hardly an acceptable part of golf. To compound matters, Seefeldt did not find success in teaching the more technical aspects of golf or tennis until kids reached age 10.
“Popular skills like running, jumping and kicking contribute to the popularity of these sports,” says Seefeldt. “Golf and tennis lack the ingredients that seem to propel soccer and basketball to popularity. The golf grip and swing are not natural to children.”
Seefeldt notes that for his study, kids were provided with a “relatively boring driving range and equipment” — not unlike what is available at some junior programs. The study might have seen different results, he notes, using apar-3 course. But Seefeldt believes thai lack of perceived success and a stimulating social environment, especially among girls, were the reasons most frequently given for their disinterest.
So what can be done to entice more young girls to play? One solution is a program founded in 1989 by Sandy LaBauve, aprofessional based in Scotts-dale, Ariz. She realized that in order to teach girls she not only had to make the game fun but also socially acceptable.
“You have to nurture girls and let them know that it’s okay to make a mistake,” says LaBauve, who points out that team sports allow individual mistakes to be covered up more easily. “That softens the blow. You have to have stepping stones and not put girls in a competitive situation before they are ready.”
LaBauve’s local success led to a 1994 national initiative sponsored by the LPGA and later supported by the Girl Scouts and USGA What sets this program apart is that it’s exclusive to girls from age 7 to 17. By the end of 2002, the LPGA and USGA hope to have 107 sites with about 3,200 participants. Nancy Lopez and fellow LPGA players Dottie Pepper, Jen Hanna and Terry-Jo Myers have joined as national spokeswomen.
The goal of the LPGA USGA Girls Golf Clubs, as the program is now known, is to stress fun while teaching fundamentals at a minimal cost to the participants. The absence of boys eliminates potential intimidation. Girls are divided into five levels, from novices to those with competitive experience.
It has worked wonders in many locations. Teaching pro Carole Tessicini was pleasantly surprised at the turnout last year in Coronado, Calif Her goal for the club was 30 girls; more than 60 came the first day. “We wanted to stop at 50,” Tessicini recalls, “but then we thought, we can’t turn these girls away.” Three players joined their high school team in the fall. Future plans call for trips to LPGA tournaments and a career day.
But not every organizer meets with immediate success or reaches moderate goals. Michele Trimarche, a pro at PGA WestinLaQuinta, Calif, started a similar program in February. She had been successful in Orlando, when about 100 girls showed up after a local newspaper printed an article about her program. Trimarche promoted her La Quinta event using newspapers, television and fliers. Only 10 girls attended the first session.
Trimarche met with a parent to discuss ways to improve the numbers. They organized an event to draw attention to the program and raise funds. At the end of April, she had 18 kids. “I want to continue this,” an undaunted Trimarche says. “I like working with kids.”

If they reach 10 or 11 years old, and haven’t found a sport or two to occupy their time, girls can be drawn to golf by a relative or family friend, as is often the case with boys. When it comes to providing such an example, however, few people would consider Iowa to be a junior golf powerhouse. The state ranks 30th in population according to census figures, and its location is not conducive to year-round play. But Iowa is the only state to have its own athletic association for girls, and when it comes to golf its numbers are off the charts. According to a survey by the National Federation of State High School Associations, Iowa rated fourth in participation last year with 4,205 girls. Only Texas, California and Minnesota rank higher. Girls’ golf has been a sanctioned sport in Iowa since 1956 and the spring state tournament draws hundreds of spectators.
“It helps that grandmas and moms played high school golf and passed thai tradition down,” Troy Dannen, associate executive secretary of the Iowa Girls’ High School Athletic Union, says in explaining another key to growing participation rates among girls. “Many of the coaches have been around 25 to 30 years and have built up a tradition. People want to be a part of that tradition.”
Dannen cites a wealth of accessible public courses in many towns as a contributing factor to the state s success. Many Iowa professionals provide clinics and course access at reduced rates. Kevin Beard, a PGA of America pro in the Des Moines suburb of Ankeny, allows kids to play for free after 7:30 p.m. during the week in the summer. “I think that helps keep them interested,” Beard says. “But after the [high school] season ends a lot of the girls go do other things. Boys tend to dive in and just work and work. Girls dive in and when it’s done, they’ll go do something else.”

Beard also conducts a winter program for dedicated players. When girls first joined the program four years ago, only two showed up. This year, 58 of 130 participants were girls. One girl drove 45 minutes to attend the 90-minute sessions.

“We had more than 50 girls out for the golf team [at Ankeny  High]  this spring,” Beard says. “A few years ago,  the team wasn’t very good … now we have a lot of girls who want to be part of a winner.”
Another success story is Michigan; with the addition of 20 teams this year alone, girls’ golf has matched soccer as the fastest-growing sport in the state. I have not seen anything like what’s been happening in the last three or four years, and I’ve been doing this since 1977,” exclaims Suzanne Martin, assistant
director for the Michigan High School Athletic Association.
An annual Michigan Girls Golf Day organized each March by pro Sheila Tansey serves as a precursor to the high school season. Coaches and players unite for a series of clinics and discussions with people from the industry.
At the other end of the scale is South Carolina, a state people might consider golf-rich. Only a handful of schools in Columbia, the capital and largest city, have girls’ teams and one of the state’s best players, Erica Battle, played on the boys team because her school doesn’t have a girls squad. Schools with enroll ments as high as 3,000 students can’t find three or four girls to field a team.
Janet Hoffman, the girls’ coach at Ridge View High, could not convince the school’s top player, Whitney Sylvan, to play. “It’s a mystery to me why more girls aren’t playing,” says Hoffman, who took over as coach in the spring of 2001 and did everything within her power to encourage girls to play. Some only see golf played on TV and think it’s too boring. “If they get that first chance to play, I think some of them would get hooked,” adds Hoffman. “Our tennis coach is from Buffalo, N.Y., and he started a lacrosse team for girls and we have a gazillion girls out for the sport.”
Another state where opportunities for girls on the high school level have been inconsistent is North Carolina. The home of Pinehurst lags well behind seasonal golf states such as Iowa, Michigan, Minnesota and Indiana (see chart below). In fall 2000, for example, just eight of 15 districts fielded teams in heavily populated Wake County, which includes Raleigh. One girls’ coach, citing the funding of boys’ programs, refused to continue — unless he received some sort of stipend.
Among the states struggling to build girls golf is California,which first offered it in 1998. Despite ranking second among states in number of participants, it lags far behind Texas, which has fewer residents, and last fall some schools dropped their teams after one girl filed a gender-equity complaint when she failed to make her school’s team. At the time, girls’ teams required a minimum of three players in a play-four-count-three format. Boys’ teams used a play-six-count-five format. As a result of the suit, the California Office of Civil Eights mandated that the state interscholastic federation increase the minimum for girls’ teams to five players to match the boys.
Some schools didn’t have enough players to field teams. A handful of coaches refused to follow the new guidelines, even though section officials said anyone disobeying the rules would be ineligible for postseason competition.
Several coaches fell the changes were made too quickly for a sport so new to the high school sports landscape. Rocky Parker, coach at St. Margaret’s in San Juan Capistrano, had six girls try out for the team, but only two could break 65 for nine holes. They elected not to compete as a team until the quality of play improved. Parker notes that golf is not like soccer or Softball, where a team can cover for a deficient player.
Donna Lopiano, executive director of the Women’s Sports Foundation, told the Los Angeles Times that the new rules should not deny any girls an opportunity to play. “There should be some way to accommodate the developing programs,” she said When all else fails, the carrot that is supposed to draw young women to the game is the abundance of scholarship money available at universities. In fact, NCAA rules allow more golf scholarships per program for women (six) than men (four). But study the NCAA participation survey and one thing becomes glaringly obvious: Golf is one of the few sports where men (735) easily outdistance women (431) in number of teams.
But women’s programs continue to grow. Richmond, St. John’s and Virginia are adding women’s teams this fall. In the Big Sky Conference, women’s golf is a required core sport for membership; men’s golf is not.
Filling all those scholarships has been a challenge. A few years ago, it was not uncommon to see 20 to 30 percent of available scholarships go unused. But, says LissaHorton, the junior golf director for the Tennessee Golf Foundation and the women’s coach at Belmont University, the word is getting out.
“Lots of girls had delusions of grandeur about playing at Tennessee or Duke and didn t look any farther,” says Horton. “More and more [girls] are taking the time to find out what’s out there.”
Brzostowski of the Carolinas Golf Association, a former player at North Carolina-Wilmington, has an explanation for why scholarships might be rejected by recipients: “Nobody wants to go out and shoot 100 against schools that have players who shoot 75 or 80.”
So women’s coaches often recruit foreign talent. Duke, one of the nation’s best teams, has one U S. player and five foreigners. This season’s top collegian is Mexico’s Lorena Ochoa, who won seven of eight tournaments. Seven of the last 12 NCAA Division I women’s champions were international players, and since 1998, 18 of 39 National Golf Coaches Association first-team All-America spots have gone to foreign-born players.
“I know that the men’s coach here would rather recruit all international players,” says Horton. “They come in with a better work ethic. They really want to be here. They don’t have any social problems. There are a good percentage of [U.S.] girls who do have strong work ethics. But a lot get burned out after being at the AJGA level for several years. They have been hounded ever since they were [13] and they get tired by the time they get to college.”
Getting girls to continue competing after the high school season may be the biggest challenge. Tansey, the Michigan Girls Golf Day organizer, says 80 percent of the girls in the state who shoot 90s or better don’t play in the summer. Eliminate the team aspect and the thrill is gone? Tansey attributes much of it to self-motivation. “A lot of [girls'] high school coaches teach the social aspect of the game rather than the competitive side of it,” Tansey says. “You coach girls differently than boys. You have to set up practices that encourage competitiveness and aggressiveness rather than just making friends on the course.”
Therein lies the difficulty faced by organizers of junior programs who are searching for the secrets to increasing participation rates. If a program is too competitive when they are in their early years, girls may drift to other sports; a few years later, when they’re teens, they may have the same reaction if a program isnot competitive enough.
Which brings us back to 11-year-old Ashley Kent, who lives next to a golf course but doesn’t foresee a day when she would play regularly. Unless, of course, a bunch of her friends were suddenly to take up the game.
“It would be more competitive,” she says. “I’d be able to go out and play with my friends.”

It will be a scene to warm the heart of every golfer who knows from sad experience that fairways can be as hard as cart paths and sand shots are actually easier when there s some sand left in the bunker. Municipal golfers — you who know the special delights of the six-hour round — close your eyes and savor this glimpse of muni heaven: It’s late in the afternoon of Sunday, June 16, and up the 18th fairway of Bethpage State Park’s Black Course walks the 2002 U.S. Open champion. The sun is low, casting a golden glow over this wonderful course, arguably the most ambitious of the great A.W. Tillinghast’s many designs, restored to its intended grandeur.
Perhaps our new champion will be Tiger Woods or David Duval or some other one-man conglomerate. Certainly that would please the networks and advertisers.
Then again, perhaps it won’t be. If it’s someone like Tom Lehman or Jim Furyk, seemi ugly regular Tin Cup kind of guys who one imagines, have played their share of golf on rough and tumble public courses, the story will acquire a special resonance, for — as we are sure to be reminded again and again — Bethpage Black is a truly public course, the first ever to break through what we might call the “Grass Ceiling.” Will it be the last? More importantly, will it boost municipal golf around the country? Some think the answer to the second question is a solid yes.
“I really think there’s a move afoot right now” to take muni golf more seriously, says course architect Rees Jones. “We’re fixing up Bryan Park near Greensboro, [N.C.] and I hear Harding Park [in San Francisco] will be getting a major facelift. I think this is going to generate a lot of interest in municipal golf and persuade city officials to upgrade their facilities.”
But is that likely, or even possible, at a time when municipal money belts are being guarded so carefully? Will a successful “People’s Open” at Bethpage spark a renaissance in public golf, with new courses being built and old ones refurbished? When they see this gorgeous course on their television sets, will mayors around the country suddenly go all dewy-eyed over the browned-out goat track in their own town that they may have tried so hard to ignore?
“Some municipalities are going to continue doing what they’re doing and using golf as orphan children. But with a little smarts on their part, they’re going to realize they can actually use this [municipal course] to their advantage,” says Bob Brock, whose company, Golf Course Specialists, Inc, manages three U.S. National Park Service courses. “I think a lot more are going to start paying attention.”
Just to be clear, in this story we aren’t talking about “daily fee” or resort courses like Pebble Beach or Pinehurst No. 2, both of which have hosted Opens. We’re talking about municipally owned courses like Bethpage, which is operated by the New York State Office of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation; or Haggin Oaks Golf Course in Sacramento; Wilmington (N.C.) GC; Triggs Memorial GC in Providence; and San Diego’s Torrey Pines GC, widely touted as the next publicly owned facility with the best chance to be an Open site. Not only are all those courses owned by some public entity and open to play by absolutely anyone, but the cost of doing so is less than a caddie’s fee at Pebble Beach.
By that definition, 2,438 of the 15,487 golf facilities in the U.S. in 2000—or nearly 16 percent— are municipal. According to the National Golf Foundation, in 1990, just 37 of 289 new courses were municipal; 10 years later the number had fallen to 29, despite a record 524 openings.
Still, there are spots of activity. Los Angeles County is conducting an environmental impact study on a 110-acre landfill on the Palos Verdes peninsula, and the city of L.A has commissioned a feasibility study on adding a course to the 13 it already owns. On the other coast, New York City has enlisted a group led by Jack Nicklaus to build the city’s first new course in almost 40 years. Situated on a 222-acre landfill under the Whitestone Bridge in the Bronx, the Ferry Point Park course will cost about $50 million to build and significantly more to play than the city’s other 13 courses. Even using landfill, New York real estate is New York real estate and design can be a large expense. But, city officials insist, Ferry Point will offer a better level of golf than the other city courses. Although that project is on hold while a number of permit issues are resolved, there is giddy talk of wooing the PGA Tour’s West-chester Classic away from Westchester Country Club in nearby Rye, N. Y.

More often than not, though, municipal coffers are bare these days. “People are stepping back and waiting to see what’s going on with golf courses in their market,” says Angelo Palermo, a senior associate consultant for the NGF who managed Spook Rock Golf Course from 1966-88, when he was director of parks and recreation for Ramapo, N.Y. The state of Oklahoma, in fact, would like to look at prival rang some of the 10 courses it owns, all built in state parks far from the population centers needed to support them.
One increasingly common strategy is for municipalities to buy struggling private courses. “It’s the old build-or-buy dilemma,” notes Richard Singer, who, as the NGF’s director of consulting services, performs feasibility studies. “Right now, the ‘buy’ numbers are looking a lot better than the ‘build’ numbers.” Florida’s Broward County, which doesn’t own any courses, is shopping around for one to buy.

And many municipalities can’t—or don’t— take care of what they have. For many old city courses, like Joseph M. Bartholomew Golf Course in New Orleans and Cobb s Creek Golf Club on the western edge of Philadelphia, help is nowhere in sight. Joe Bartholomew has had no major capital improvements since it opened in the 1950s. Cobb’s Creek, which was designed by Hugh Wilson, the architect responsible for Merion East and for finishing Pine Valley after George Crump died, desperately needs to replace its ancient irrigation system.
“This course could be really fabulous,” says Eric Sayer, Cobb’s Creek general manager. “All it needs is an updated irrigation system.” The system would cost approximately $1 million — a sum that the city is not likely to spend anytime soon.
Even New York state, where everyone from Gov. George PataM on down is energized by the prospect of hosting the Open, is reluctant to spend much in the current climate. “No way could I have justified a $3.5 million renovation [which the USGA committed to Bethpage],” says Bernadette Castro, the state’s parks, recreation and historic preservation commissioner. Indeed, the state interrupted work on a new $12 million irrigation system for Green Lakes State Park Golf Course near Syracuse after the World Trade Center attack last Sept. 11.
“We had to prioritize,” says Castro, who promises the work at Green Lakes will get done and speaks enthusiastically of one day refurbishing Montauk Downs, a course near the tip of Long Island (estimated cost $lmillion-2 million).
For now, the money’s not there. So the current goal is to refurbish existing facilities. As Castro puts it, “If this is all [the courses] we’re going to have, let’s go for it and make them great.”
That’s not necessarily a bad thing, as proved by what’s happened at a few key courses in northern California. Sacramento decided in 1998 to resurrect Haggin Oaks, a wonderful 1932 design by Alister Mackenzie, which had deteriorated to the point where it seemed quite possible it would be lost. The city spent $6.9 million to refurbish the course, which follows a new routing while honoring many of Mackenzie’s design principles.

Farther west, San Francisco’s five city courses — including Harding Park, site of two U.S. Amateur Public Links Championships (1937,1956)—had deteriorated badly. Tony Hall, a San Francisco city and county board of supervisors member in whose district Harding sits, stitched together a coalition to approve the use of state parks revenue bonds for a major overhaul. The renovation will cost about $15 million and includes adding a set of tees to stretch the course’s length from 6,743 to 7 200 yards.
“The bones of a great course are there,” says Sean Elsbernd, Hall’s legislative aide who, unlike his boss is a golfer. “It just needs to be cleaned up. Lincoln Park is next.”
How good is the restored Harding Park likely to be? As part of Hall’s deal, the PGA Tour’s season-ending Tour Championship will be held there three times between 2006 and 2015 in return for the tour’s contribution of consulting expertise and support that will eventually amount to more than $1 million. To avoid higher green fees, such as those charged nearby at The Presidio since its restoration in 1996 by Arnold Palmer’s golf management company, another key element in the plan is a proposal for a graduated green fee structure. This includes a new designation, “Bay Area resident,” aimed to allay concerns of senior golfers in nearby Daly City.

You’d think that discovering you’ve got a Mackenzie or Tillinghast in your backyard would be like discovering that the grimy old painting in your attic really is an Edward Hopper and needs TLC pronto. Still, profit may be a better selling point in persuading a city manager to invest in an old course. “If the politicians and the municipalities wake up and realize that a golf course is a great physical asset for a town, they’ll probably turn right around and fix them up,” says Michael Fay, со founder and executive director of the Donald Ross Society. Fay estimates there are at least 40 Ross courses currently languishing in public care. “If you look at successful municipal golf courses— and obviously there’s hundreds of those—they all make money for their towns and cities. All it takes is a little bit of attention.”

Renovating a great old course needn’t cost as much as the $3.5 million the USGA has spent at Bethpage. Fay gives high marks to Triggs Memorial, a Ross course in Providence, where a management company named FCG Associates has a continuing capital improvement program that already built cart paths, gutted and restored tees and bunkers and restored some greens—all over 11 years and at a cost of just $1.2 million.

A few years ago, Fay was in North   Carolina   doing some work at Cape Fear Country Club when his host urged him to take a look at Wilmington Municipal, which had also been designed by Ross.
“It turned out to be a fabulous municipal course,” says Fay. “But the bunkering had disintegrated over the years. The bunkers had become blotches of sand and migrated from one place to another. We gave them $7,000 to evaluate the renovation possibilities. As a result, they spent $130,000 to restore the course according to Ross’s plans.”
Municipal courses are slowly winning respect in the South. “In North Carolina, where I’m from,”  says Reid Schronce, Wilmington GC’s general manager, “not a lot of  towns operated municipal golf courses, particularly before 1980. Golf in the South was dominated by private clubs, and public golf tended to be more ranch or farm style. If it was a public course, it was probably on the low end.” Race relations, it seems, played a role in this situation, because some white golfers, who could do an end-run around integration by joining a private club, were not enthusiastic about spending their tax dollars to fund courses open to all.
In Washington, D.C., a group called the Langston Legacy Golf Corporation is making a virtue of the citys past segregation. The Langston Golf Course, situated in a crime-ridden section of northeastern D.C., is “the first and only course built by the U.S. government for segregated purposes,” according to Bob Brock of Golf Course Specialists, Inc., which managed the layout for the National Parks Service until April 1, when the Langston Legacy took over. In the 1930s, black golfers could play at East Potomac and Rock Creek, theoretically, but those who dared try had their tires slashed and worse. Built on a landfill, Langston opened as nine holes in 1939 and a second nine was added in the 1950s. All these years later, car heaters and tires continue to bubble up through the fairways. Brock recently arranged to have 21,000 truckloads of soil dumped in an effort, to bury the stuff for good. “Potentially, it’s our best track,” he says. It may be yet, if the Nation’s Capital Bicentennial Commission succeeds m raising its goal of $20 million. The ambitious plan calls for NCBC to create a full-scale layout, teaching center and a museum of minority golf.
Langston’s early golfers no doubt considered it a slight to be given a course built on a garbage dump. Today, building on industrial wasteland is not just a way to solve environmental problems; it’s a way for cash-strapped municipalities to earn grant money to pay for the project. “We are finding that placing golf courses on brownfields and landfills is a good permanent use of that property,” says Singer, who notes most of the projects he consults on these days involve some form of reclamation.
That’s true  of those  new courses in the Bronx and the Palos Verdes peninsula, as well as Chicago’s Harborside International Golf Center, 36 holes set on a 458-acre South Side landfill owned by the Illinois International Port Authority. The small city of Hammond, Ind., is building its first municipal course, a 7,000-yarder, situated on an old slag transfer station that has been an environmental hazard since the 1940s—and funding the work entirely with tax increases on industrial projects.
There’s an important lesson here. Muni golfers should not wait for someone else to rescue their beloved old course. Golfers have power — if they choose to use it. In Portland, Ore., a few years ago, a city councilman looked at the city’s five courses and wondered if the city couldn’t earn more revenue for schools by adding a small surcharge ($2.50 per nine holes) for non city residents, which would still place them far below market value. After all, two of Portland’s courses — Eastmoreland, which costs just $23 to play, and the Great Blue course at Heron Lakes ($37)—hosted the U.S. Amateur Public Links in 1933,1990 and 2000 respectively. The rise in green fees did not go over well.
“Basically, we had a revolt by the people who used the golf courses,” recalls John Zoller, Port land’s director of golf for the past 18 years. “Our play dropped 25 percent, which was huge. After two years, they said we made a big mistake. We went through two more years of not only removing the surcharge but also offering incentives. We had to say, We want you back.”
In Los Angeles where the supply-demand ratio of courses and golfers may be worse than anywhere in the U.S., the city’s first public golf association was formed in 1931. Today, with help from unions that staff the facilities and are eager to ensure that city courses don’t go private, it has managed to keep green fees incomprehensibly low, topping out at $25 on weekends.
“Los Angeles takes seriously its mandate to provide quality golf at a price that promotes play and serves as many citizens as possible,” says Craig Kessler, executive director of the Public Links Golf Association of Southern California. Last September, the city’s department of recreation and parks spun off its golf operations, forming a separate division with Cleve Williams as its manager. Williams would like to see the new division operate similar to an Enterprise Fund, which means revenues would be plowed back into the courses. That’s the strategy that’s worked well in Portland, Sacramento and especially Seattle, where courses had suffered miserably when operated as part of a general fund (in which golf revenues are used to fund other city projects)
“Enterprise Funds are definitely the way to go,” says Williams. “You can operate much more entrepreneurially.”

Sо is there another Bethpage out there, waiting to be rescued and awarded an Open? “Not everyone has a Bethpage in their backyard,” cautions John Woode-shick, a regional vice president of American Golf
Corporation, a course management firm. If you poll architects for another likely candidate beyond Torrey Pines, what you hear is the sound of heads being scratched. “Rancho Park [in Los Angeles], maybe, with a lot of work,” offers Damian Pascuzzo, president of the American Society of Golf Course Architects.
While it confers prestige, hosting a tournament is expensive. Some top municipal layouts, such as Brown Deer Park in Milwaukee, are content with the big event they currently host. In Brown Deer’s case, that’s the Greater Milwaukee Open, which takes a lot of work and costs the city quite a bit in lost green fees. Chicago’s Har-borside International might be another strong candidate, but, says manager Kevin Fitzgerald, the Port Authority wants to make an immediate impact so this year it will host the SBC Senior Open, a Senior PGA Tour event.
Still, the one clear lesson is the potential of determined, mobilized golfers to influence policy. Along with its spectacular ocean-side setting, Torrey Pines owes its candidacy to an ambitious community group called the Century Club, which raised $3.3 million and hired Jones to do a redesign. Before the overhaul, which added 552 yards, Torrey Pines had its skeptics, including Tiger Woods. But this year’s Buick Invitational quickly converted him. “They can definitely host an Open here,” Woods enthused.

Kessler stresses it is a mistake to get too wrapped up in hosting an Open. There are other worthy ambitions. “Maybe the best thing Bethpage can do [for municipal golf] is not to raise passion or interest, which are already there, but an awareness that such facilities can be of such high quality they can host an Open.”
Bob Brock, in D.C., has been in the business long enough to remember the power of televised golf. “There’s no question that television and Arnold Palmer changed the direction of golf,” he says, “not just public but country clubs, too, in terms of the level of maintenance everyone expected. Everybody wanted that green sward they saw on television.”
Maybe Bethpage will inspire a whole new army of ardent golfers for the new century. We’ll call it the People’s Army.