Cooper - Alice cooper, golf monster: a rock n rollers 12 steps to becoming a golf addict

Contents

Introduction
Alice Cooper Plays Pine Valley

THE FIRST STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Be a Good Imitator

THE SECOND STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
It Dont Mean a Thing if You Aint Got That Swing or On Being an Amateur vs. Becoming a Pro

THE THIRD STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Play for the Right Reasons

THE FOURTH STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Let the Adrenaline Flow

THE FIFTH STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Play on the Road! Play All Over the World!

THE SIXTH STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Confront Your Demons and Defeat Them

THE SEVENTH STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Play with Those Who Inspire You

THE EIGHTH STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Replace the Bad Addiction with the Good Addiction

THE NINTH STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Construct a Spiritual Support System That Works for You

THE TENTH STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Learn How to Play Through

THE ELEVENTH STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Pay Attention to Innovation and Technology

THE TWELFTH STEP OF GOLF ADDICTION
Keep on Rockin!

My liver would like to dedicate this book to me for giving up drinking and taking up golf.

Introduction

Alice Cooper Plays Pine Valley

O NE DAY I GOT A CALL from Ely Callaway, the famous golf-equipment maker. Alice, he said, do you want to play Pine Valley?

Now, the Top 100 golf courses in the world are rated by experts, organizations, and hopeless golf addictsand at the top of my list is Pine Valley in New Jersey. Its an impossible course to get onto, especially if youre an outsider. Some say its the number-one course in the world. You have to be born onto that course to get inor be blue-blood royalty, a Fortune 500 CEO, or the great-grandson of a member of the club. A rock n roller? No way. I would never make the cut.

So this was as if Ely had called and asked if I wanted to go to paradise for a day. Pine Valley? Sure thing! Ha! Alice Cooper plays Pine Valley. Who would have thought?

On the day of my tee time, I got into a limousine for the two-hour trek from New York City to the hallowed grounds of Pine Valley. Sitting in the back of the limo, I thought about recently running into Lou Reed, whom I remember from our days at the Chelsea Hotel in New York in 1972. Back then, the hallways were filled with dope addicts, druggies, transvestites, and boozers. People passed out in the hallways, too high to put the keys in their doors. Thirty-five years later, Lou is asking me how he should adapt his swing to gain greater distance and accuracy. I gave him advice on where to place his hands on the club. Who would have imagined the two of us, three decades removed from that drug-filled, hazy lifestyle, discussing golf swings?

I wondered, Is Lou like me? Is he a golf junkie now, too, outrageously addicted to this alluring sport?

It actually took me three hours to get to Pine Valley, because the driver got hopelessly lost. The course, it turns out, is almost impossible to find if youve never been there. Its situated rather anonymously in the middle of a wooded neighborhood. Suddenly, it appears. When I arrived, I jumped out of the backseat and walked into the clubhouse.

I was playing the greatest golf course in the world!

I didnt quite know how everything would work, especially since I didnt have anyone to play with, but I shortly found out that everything was already in motion. When you arrive for the first time, the tradition is that rookies first sit and have coffee with a member. No other course Id ever played had that rule. It sounded a little strange, but I had come this far. What did I have to lose? So I was introduced to a couple of guys, and we all sat down and looked at one another.

All right, I get it now. Alice Cooper, the crazy rock star, sits down with a couple of members to give them a chance to look me over and say, No, thanks, we dont want to play with this guy. Had I come in drunk or loud or stupid, this was their opportunity to give me the shaft and show me the door. I had passed the first hurdle; next it was time to prove myself on the green.

After the coffee test, it was decided I would play with the caddy master and two other fellows who served as his assistants. The caddy master was from Scotland and spoke in a thick brogue. He looked about sixty-five years old; he had been there for forty years and knew every blade of grass on the course. He immediately asked,

Eh, laddie, whats your handicap?

Seven. Actually, I was closer to a five.

Well, the running bet around here is $20 that you cant break 85 on this course.

Okay. I nodded.

I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. I wanted to be in on this one; it was money well spent. Of course, at that point, I didnt care what I shot. I was on Pine Valley! Some of the greatest golfers in the world have shot 82, 83, or 85 at Pine Valley.

So we got to the first hole. The first thing that an amateur does (and I am an amateur) is look at a golf hole and take his driver out. But the caddy master stopped me: Sonny, use a five-wood here. You only want to hit it 220 yards. Any further than that, its going to go downhill into a spot where you cant hit out of.

Okay: a five-wood. I used it, and the ball went exactly where it needed to be. Dead straight. Right down the middle.

Well done, laddie! Now that youve got 170 yards in, hit the wee six-iron.

I hit it with that six-iron: dead on the green. From that point on, everything the caddy master told me to do, I did. I hardly missed a fairway or a green all dayI made two minor mistakes, and those were the only blemishes on that round all day.

I was in the zone.

It was a beautiful day. The course looked like it might have been the course in the Garden of Eden. If God designed a golf course for himself, this would be it. The greens were perfect. It was like putting on velvet. The sand traps didnt seem man-made (even though they wereit was natural sand with no rakes), which made the course especially unique. At every hole, the caddy master recited a poem. Then hed give me a round of seasoned, sound advice.

After our eighteen holes, the caddy master marched me into the pro shop, where all the members were assembled. Attention! Attention! I just played with this young rock fellow here. He shot 73! Never before has an amateur come here and shot a 73.

The pro shop members broke into applause. I had made my mark at Pine Valley. The members knew that their caddy master wasnt giving me putts. He was too hard-core, way too Scottish, and he played by the rules. He did give me some interesting tips on how to make my way around the course, but the members knew that if I shot 73 with him, it was an honest-to-God 73. As the caddy master patted me on the back, he whispered to me, Seventy-three at Pine Valley, laddie. Thats something you must always be proud of.

I never played Pine Valley again. Ive had to battle with myself to stay away, but that was a perfect day. The next time, I might overthink my game and shoot a 93 or something. Had I shot for four days there, I might have averaged about 85. But on that day, I avoided the Golf Monster.