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7th Biennial World Golf Teachers Cup®
WORLD GOLF TEACHERS CUP DIARY
Brazil • February 15-19, 2005
By Mike Stevens
USGTF Level IV Member, Tampa, FL |
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The day has
arrived. I am on my way to Brazil to compete in the World Golf
Teachers Cup. The flight on TAM Airlines is a pleasant
experience. On-demand movies and enough room for comfort even
back where the real people cohabit. Eight hours and fifteen
minutes later we arrive. The easy part of the journey is over.
Imagine five guys, five sets of golf clubs, and six bags packed
in a minivan with a driver who doesn’t speak English and is
unsure about the location of our hotel. Oh, and it is pouring
down rain! Two hours later we reach the city of Itu in the dead
of night. After a few encounters with some of the locals, we
find our quarters. When the van door opens it is like a
jack-in-the-box. Ah, but we are here and the staff is ready
willing and able. I wish I could tell you it was a scenic drive,
but the bag on my head obscured the view.
S AT U R D AY – FEBRUARY 12, 2005
It is an incredibly small world at times with interesting twists
and turns . One month prior to this trip, I casually mentioned
to my friend George Baker of Razor Golf that I was going to
Brazil for a tournament . The conversation went something like
this: “Where?“ “São Paulo.” “Hey, I have friends in São Paulo,
and they are here at Innisbrook right now. Do you want to meet
them?”
The next day we had a wonderful visit over a round of golf. It
turned out they own a house on the 13th hole of the golf course
where the World Cup is being played. They insist I visit them
upon my arrival and there is a message from them at the front
desk as I check in.
So, this morning I ring them up and we spend a delightful day
touring the area prior to playing a practice round . My new
Brazilian friends, Alvaro and Yeda, play with me, imparting some
local knowledge on the intricacies of the Club de Golf San Jose.
Halfway through the round they to tell me not to go into the
woods on holes 2 and 4 because there is an insect that can
transmit some rare disease to humans. Somehow the hidden lake on
number 17 seems less important.
S U N D AY – FEBRUARY 13, 2005
I sleep incredibly well here . Although it is summer, the
humidity is very low and the evening temperatures are such that
you can bed down with the windows open. Amazingly, no bugs
invade the room . Meal times here are nothing but feasts. You
can eat yourself into oblivion. The breakfast buffet includes
dozens of fruits, equal amounts of breads, rolls or pastries,
eggs scrambled or prepared by a chef, sausages, bacon, cold
cuts, cheeses, cereals, yogurt and even ice cream . At
lunch, I order steak for one and they bring out three grilled
sirloins with rice and beans, salad and an assorted dish of
little croquette-type objects.
Our hosts, the Brazilian Golf Teachers Federation, take us to
dinner at one of their typical barbecue places. Imagine Sweet
Tomatoes meets the Chicago stock yard. I am advised not to
overdo the salad bar. Soon I find out why. Throughout the
evening, waiters plunk down skewers with sides of grilled meat
attached and carve off pieces onto your plate. I sample sirloin,
fillet, wild hog, chicken, pork roast and some type of cheese.
It is a non-stop orgy reminiscent of a medieval feast. One
of my golfing buddies, Mark Harman, wonders how the folks from
PETA would view true carnivores indulging in such pleasure .
That brings on a whole series of discussions which results in
our solving all the problems of the world.
M O N D AY – FEBRUARY 14, 2003
Today, I relax. I have played two practice rounds, so this
morning I will take it easy. I like the golf course. Except for
the elevations, it reminds me of the older courses in Miami like
the Biltmore or Miami Springs: Bermuda grass, small greens, and
very grainy . Most holes are doglegs and it is a fader’s golf
course, not the best for my draw. I have managed to keep it in
the short grass so far and was able to bend it right on a couple
of holes that really needed it. My favorite hole is #9, an
uphill par-5 requiring a slight fade across a fairly wide
valley. It is very picturesque from the tee, a great Kodak
moment.
A round 2 PM, I go over to the course to hit a few balls. Then,
I decide to play the front nine one more time because it is the
more difficult of the two sides. I play awful. Well actually, I
hit it well but my short game is a mess. The Bermuda around the
green is thick and the ball nestles down. I double-hit the ball
twice after missing greens . I finish par, birdie, but the other
holes are forgettable . Not a good way to go into the first
round.
This evening we have a reception for all participants. Several
dignitaries from Brazil are on hand as is the Mayor of Itu.
There are golf instructors from all over the world and I make
many new friends. It is truly an international event. Before I
call it a night, I phone home to see if my wife received the
Valentine’s bouquet I sent. She said they were beautiful. Thank
you Mario of Island Flowers in Ybor City.
T U E S D AY – FEBRUARY 15, 2005
It’s tournament time. Even to a casual observer, the start of a
tournament is obvious. There is a feeling in the air. Everything
is much more serious. You can see it on the players faces – all
business . It doesn’t matter what level of professional tour,
the atmosphere is the same. Pleasantries are short and to the
point, “Play well,” or “Good luck,” that’s about it.
My tee time is 9:40 AM and I am playing with George Soares of
Brazil. I start out well, playing at 1-over-par through six
holes, but a three-putt on number 7 unnerves me. Then I make an
inexcusable mistake on the eighth. F rom the middle of the
fairway, I miss the green with an 8-iro n . I leave myself a
difficult up-anddown and make a double-bogey. This is such a
confounding game . One bad swing can shake your confidence and
cause you to struggle for several holes. It doesn’t help when I
miss a makeable birdie putt on #9. Then I get it back together
and am 4-overpar standing on #15, a brutal par-3 playing about
225 yards. I push my 5-wood ever so slightly and it hits a slope
just to the right of the green and bounds down a hill into knee
high grass. My best Arnold Palmer swing sends the ball well over
the green , leading to double-bogey number two. I shoot 78 and
am two shots off the lead in the senior division. George also
shoots 78, but I have never played with anyone who hits it so
far off the tee. On the par-5 eighteenth he hits wedge to the
green for his second shot. Good thing he is in the flat-belly
division. This evening several of us go to another barbecue
place and overeat again.
W E D N E S D AY – FEBRUARY 16, 2005
I am off late on day two, so I take my time getting over to the
golf course. My caddie Boca greets me at the spot on the range
he has saved for me. I warm up well and feel pretty good as I
head to the tenth tee. We start in reverse order today. Again I
am paired with George and also Eladio Franco of Paraguay,cousin
of PGA Tour player Carlos Franco. I score well early but the
fluid swing that was on the driving range is missing. When I
need it most it fails me on the same killer par three that took
my lunch money yesterday. I pull my shot left and it hits a
branch and kicks into the woods. You guessed it, double-bogey
number three . Once again I pull myself back together and get it
going. Heading into the fifth hole, my fifteenth of the day, I
am 4-overpar, but then disaster. I thought I hit a good shot as
it tracked the flagstick all the way. Unfortunately, it was a
whisker short and buries in the lip of the bunker fronting the
green . I can only hack at it. Double-bogey number four. It’s a
killer. When you’re fighting your swing a little, something like
this really takes a toll. I start to press and it costs me two
more bogeys. To make matters worse, I blow and easy birdie from
just off the green in two on the par-5 finishing hole and shoot
80. I finish five strokes off the winning score, lamenting the
double-bogeys and what could have been.
This round also counted in the team qualifying for the World
Cup, which the USA is defending here . Other than Mark Harman,
our best player, the other five of us don’t play so well and we
are 14 shots behind the team from Paraguay. We will need quite a
charge tomorrow if we want to return the cup to US soil . Back
at the hotel pool, we are all lamenting about missed shots,
three putts and mini-disasters. It’s what golfers do. At least
the beer is cold and the pool refreshing . Several of us go to a
German restaurant in Itu and drown our sorrows with more beer.
Driving to Itu is interesting . About every quarter of a mile on
the main road is a speed bump which you can’t see because there
are no street lights. It doesn’t matter who drives, we seem to
always hit one at top speed and bang our heads on the ceiling of
the car. By the end of the evening we are all exhausted. Most of
us are not accustomed to walking a golf course this much. I
enjoy walking, but it is difficult to find courses in Florida
that will let you. I prefer walking and vow to do more when I
get home.
T H U R S D AY – FEBRUARY 17, 2005
This was the second day of team qualifying. There are six people
on each team. I qualified for the US team by winning the senior
division and finishing fourth overall at the US Championships .
We were in fifth place after yesterday’s competition behind
Paraguay, Brazil, Argentina and the Caribbean teams.A big day
was needed to get us in position to defend our title.
Unfortunately, we fail in our mission to bring the cup home.
I played well. My swing comes back and I shoot 73. I was even
par on the last hole with about a 200-yard shot to reach in two;
however, I had to hit a pretty fair-sized fade to get there. I
figured 1-under would be huge, but my ball clips a branch and
falls into a hazard resulting in bogey. My round helps but
notenough to overcome the teams ahead of us. We end up in fifth
and will play the South American team in match play for also-ran
status . It will be the second time in the seven playings of the
World Cup that the United States failed to keep possession of
the trophy.
In spite of the disappointment, I did have a great day. Not just
because I played well, but because I had great company. My
playing partners are Anthony Henry of Trinidad and Rueben Franco
of Paraguay. Rueben tells me he is Carlos Franco’s coach.
Anthony is a delightful gentleman who tells me all about his
life in Trinidad and how he came to golf. We share a moment only
golfers would understand. We are talking about what a
confounding game golf is and how just one bad shot can ruin
everything and put you out of a tournament. Then he looks at me
and says exactly what I’m thinking, “But I love it.”
Paraguay and Brazil will compete for the championship. The
remaining nations will play for pride. For a moment it looks
like we will play the Canadian team, a true grudge match, but
they fall to seventh. Instead, we combine forces and head to the
barbecue.
FRIDAY – FEBRUARY 18, 2005
We are all beat. Six rounds of golf have worn us down. The
weather has turned considerably hotter the last couple of days
and the sun here is brutal. My nose is peeling and blistered
even with a liberal coating of sunscreen every few holes. I play
against a Brazilian named Anderson Nemur, another one of the
long hitters. Our match goes seventeen holes before I lose. A
terrible tee shot into the lake seals my fate. As we trudge up
to the clubhouse we talk about what a great week it has been.
Anderson wants a picture of me and the US team. Our team
finishes sixth but in consolation, I must say we have all made
some wonderful friends. Golf is such a great vehicle for that.
There are few other sports like it. Here in a remote area of
Brazil, people of different beliefs and cultures gathered,
competed hard against each other, shared our views on golf and
life and at the end of each day we complimented good play and
commiserated with those who struggled. Paraguay defeats Brazil
in the finals, becoming the first South American team to take
possession of the World Teachers Cup.
This evening I dined on Brazilian pizza with my friends Yeda and
Alvaro . The town is busy as everyone is out celebrating the end
of the week. Tomorrow there will be a pro am for tournament
sponsors, dignitaries and businessmen from Sao Paulo . It will
be a day of fun to further the cause of golf in this beautiful
country.
S A T U R D A Y – FEBRUARY 19, 2005
We are reaching the conclusion of the World Golf Teachers Cup .
I play in the pro-am with area residents Roberto and Nancy
Cohelo and Charles Simms of Germany. It is a delightful day. I
have made so many friends this week, both from golf federations
and the local community. This will certainly go down as one of
the great experiences of my life.
We shoot 64 in the pro-am but the winning score is 53. Not sure
about some of the handicaps posted, but it is all in good fun.
Things wrapped up about 6 PM and then the party started. The
awards banquet was at our hotel. A mini carnival broke out.
Music, dancers, drummers, conga lines and tons more food.
Unbelievable! I’m not sure how the girls stay in their costumes
with all that shaking going on. For some of their numbers it
looked like they just took paper clips and attached them to
strategic locations. Of course this is all normal to the
Brazilians. We finally quit well after midnight. What a week,
but now I am ready to go home.
S U N D AY – FEBRUARY 20, 2005
It has truly been a great week and the Brazilian Golf Teachers
Federation has been a fantastic host. I’m sure I’ll hash over
all the missed shots that cost me a chance at the senior title.
The fifteenth hole was my nemesis, not that it is an easy par- 3
. Far from it! We played it at about 225, but two double-bogeys
are inexcusable. I let the hole get to me and that is no way to
win . It’s history now, the milk has been spilled and it is time
to move on.
As the plane departs, I can only reflect on how grateful I am
that my dad introduced me to this incredible game of golf. It
has taught me lessons and brought me in contact with people I’ll
never forget . Regardless of our native land, we golfers are one
in spirit, celebrating a passion created by a little white ball.
I say goodbye now to new and old friends by paraphrasing a
classic song – “We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know
when, but be sure, we will meet again.” Obrigado, my Brazilian
comrades on the links.
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