TulaneLSU's Top 10 observations about and tips for playing a round at Pebble Beach

Dear Friends,

Volleyball, not golf, was the sport at which I achieved athletic excellence. Father thought golf should be my sport, though, just as it was for him, his father, and his grandfather. He said to me many times, "TulaneLSU, you are Scottish and golf is in your blood." Father's hawkish invitations to join him for a round at the New Orleans Country Club grew tiresome over the years. It was not because I do not like golf. Instead, the atmosphere there was never for me, so I declined almost every offer. When a friend from middle school invited me to join him at City Park's public course, the classic North Course, not the garish South Course they took so much open park space to create, I always accepted.

I love the idea of golf: a walk through nurtured nature with tools that require discipline in order to achieve arete, excellence. I do not like what golf has become in America: a tool of the wealthy to exclude others. The country club set ruined American golf, riding around in their golf carts and toasting themselves with beer as they do so, laughing all the way to the clubhouse.

Golf, in its intended form, is a game for the disciplined who want to practice an art outdoors. There is no room for snobbery. Golf should be open to all who are willing to test their minds and bodies toward the goal of excellence.



Mother and I recently returned from our West Coast journey, on which I took over 3000 photos. On that journey we spent a couple of nights at the Monterey Plaza and Hotel. If you have never been to Monterey, I recommend it for its natural beauty and refined atmosphere. If you choose to go, The Plaza and Hotel is a quite a lovely outpost near downtown Monterey, which sits above the marvelous bay. I cannot more highly recommend its restaurant, Schooner's. It is open now for outdoor dining -- most of the restaurants in California to which we gave our patronage were only open for outdoor or to go dining. Schooner's location, though, was the most beautiful of them all, as emerald waves illuminated by fluorescent lights turned and crashed beneath us. Kelp beds sloshed back and forth with the waves while fishing boats bobbed in the spaced swells just offshore.

As we had done quite a bit of hiking that day, my meal consisted of four delicious courses, which I will not detail in great amounts, as this is the Golf, not Food, Board. My first course was the fried calamari. It was the least impressive, yet still delicious course. It was lightly fried in an obviously fresh batch of oil. The dipping sauce was delightful.



My second course included the skillet nachos with grilled chicken. The guacamole was the best I have ever had, likely due to the close sourcing of avocados. They also included some artichokes, which was fitting, as Monterey is just minutes from Castroville, the self-proclaimed world capital for the artichoke. More on that to come later. The cheese was of excellent quality, and our waiter confirmed to me that it was indeed Monterey Jack cheese -- is there any cheese more appropriate for such a meal?



My main that evening included bay-caught black cod studded with Dungeness crab. The heirloom tomatoes and the basil-based sauce were the highlight of this show stopper of a dish. It was one of the best fish dishes I have ever had, and each bite was a harmony of freshness. It is what I think of when I think of the best of California dining.



Still hungry, I did what I usually do not do: I ordered a sugary dessert. This course was a triple layered tour of chocolates: milk, white, and dark. Although it was $14, it was worth it. One thing you will find about California, and in particular, Monterey, is that prices are quite high. Though this dish may sound and look very rich, I found it light. By the end of my meal, I was satiated, but not to the point of feeling bloated.



During the meal, Mother and I talked about what we would do the next day. We had just come from San Francisco, where we unfortunately missed a rendezvous with our good friend, SuperSaint. We were planning a possible drive on the Pacific Coast Highway, from Carmel to south of Big Sur. Of course, I will detail that trip on the OT, thanks to the bridges throwing a wrench in my gut. We also talked of toured that lovely town of Carmel, which is even more beautiful than Monterey, which many of you probably did not realize was possible.

During my second course, cracking away at the nachos, the waiter overheard us talking of our forthcoming plans.

He interrupted, "Have you considered playing Pebble Beach?"

I looked up and said, "Pebble Beach? Surely there are no openings available."

"Many weekdays, since the pandemic, have openings. You should try calling tomorrow morning."

Mother responded, "I haven't played in over a year and I don't have my clubs."

The waiter, a fine gentleman, possibly hoping for a referral fee or perhaps just being informative gave us information of a website called ClubLender. "They can get you clubs in two days if you request them. I have had diners recently get reservations to play and clubs in just two days."

The next morning, first thing, Mother called and was able to get a tee time for the following morning at Pebble Beach, even though we were not staying at that resort. One of the great things of that golf course is that it is a public course open to anyone who would like to play, even if greens fees are a bit higher than the North Course at City Park. She then arranged for our clubs to be delivered to the club house.

I was quite excited, as I had never dreamed of playing this course. I have played at some of the famed courses in England and Scotland, such as St. Anne's, St. Andrew's, and Turnberry, but none of those names stirred in my heart's imagination the excitement of Pebble Beach, perhaps because I watched Pebble Beach on television with Grandfather every year as part of a tradition. It was even more exciting how quickly it all happened, the sheer serendipity of it all.

The next four and a half hours were some of my most cherished hours with Mother I can recently recall. She was in top form, smiling broadly throughout and was on top of her game, even without her clubs or recent practice. I, on the other hand, was a golfing mess, even if my heart was singing with joy. In the end, my score was 112, with eight of my balls finding rest on the bottom of the sea floor. Mother shot an impressive 90. Even with my terrible showing, I had a fantastic time and would recommend you make the trip if you are in the area.