japan diaries - vol. 3

9:17. Our tee time at the Yamato Country Club outside Tenri-city was set. At approximately 7:00am, we left the house and began the nearly hour-long drive in the mountains. After a number of dips and turns, climbs and falls in an ever increasing green landscape, we finally reached our destination. I was once told that Japan owns less than 40% of land available for proper settlement. Humans need space. So where would one create a golf course? On the tops of mountains. Naturally.


Initial reactions were tempered. I have lived in Japan before. I have golfed a number of times. Driving up and dropping off our clubs was like any other place. The gentleman's locker was nothing special either, although I was surprised they did not allow smoking. Heck, you can light up in the maternity ward in this country. I was curious to understand why it was off-limits here.


We had coffee in the cafe and made our way to the cart. Things became novel quickly. The cart, for starters, is fully automatic. In fact, the wheel is locked. It's impossible to move from the track. It follows the course at a pace so slow at times that I am sure it was done on purpose. But after several very steep inclines/declines, I realized this was necessary in terms of safety. Always first. It came equipped with a CB radio (I didnt shy away from this picture), individual space for putters, multiple baskets, Suntory cooler to house individual water bottles, water-proof seats, and every possible information necessary for one to score their good/bad day.


Given the location, the course rolled and banked and boasted elevation changes on nearly every hole. It offered breathless view after view and the few gasps of air I did manage were reserved for expletives. It was terrible difficult. Actually, it was mainly different. Unlike America, Japanese courses do not celebrate the power game. The term "smart golf" does not exist here because there is no other golf that could be played and remain effective. I shot near double bogey golf for the first four holes and then it clicked. A couple of well-shot 3-woods, some chips, and I finished out with 5 consecutive pars.


Time for lunch. Right. I had been told that most players in Japan take breaks between the front and back nine, but I didnt expect it would be mandatory. Regardless, there is nothing like lightly-breaded tonkotsu, curry, rice and grilled vegetables to recharge the cells. And beer. Two of them.


I opened up with 3 pars in 5 holes, but another beer mid-round and my bad habits began to spill out. Still, playing with M's dad was one of the most comfortable things I have ever done. Although M had hyped up my skills, he never questioned why I was falling apart. In fact, he made it a habit to excuse my poor shooting before I had the chance. "The fairways are too small in this country; oh, I made you practice too much at the range yesterday; the grass they use here is really difficult -- I cant imagine what you would look like when you get used to it." Apprehensive play he wanted to avoid. Just not fun he said. It reminded me of Dad. Victory in the small. Pin high. Straight down the pipe. Perfect line. Perfect time.


More pictures:

This incline was over 30%. It's also a great tool shot.