Bio of Paul Tenner
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MY HISTORY OF PLAYING GOLF:
I was introduced to the game (not really the game, just the driving range) by my future brother-in-law when I was 10 years old. My future b-i-l, who was 20 at the time, had just started dating my sister and he must have thought that a good way to score points with her was to act like he liked me (it worked, they are still together). So, occasionally, he’d take me out to the driving range and I’d get to smack a few. The funny thing is that I didn’t know there was an actual game called golf with holes and scoring. I thought golf was simply hitting balls at the driving range. I was one of those kids who took things quite literally. Another example of my early propensity to take things literally has to do with learning to play basketball. I am right handed, but I was taught to play basketball by the left handed former boyfriend of my sister (not the one who became my future b-i-l). I didn’t ask, I just assumed that he was playing left handed because you were supposed to. To this day I predominately dribble and shoot a basketball with my left hand. I also shoot guns and rifles left handed and play billiards left handed, but I think that is more a result of my being left eye dominant. A final example of my taking things literally as a kid is that when I was growing up the nightly news was almost always dominated by reports having to do with the Vietnam war. There was a lot of talk about guerilla warfare, and I thought they were talking about “gorillas.” With the navy using trained dolphins to locate mines, etc., I had no reason to question the training of gorillas to engage in combat.
So, back to golf. Once I discovered that there was more to it than the driving range, my love for the game really took hold and I was hooked. I’d use my allowance to buy one club at a time, taking the bus to the dry goods store downtown to buy a club each time I had saved enough money to purchase another club. Needless to say, I wasn’t buying a matched set. I still have the first golf club I ever bought, a Spalding 7 iron.
The father of my of my friends actually introduced me to the game. He’d take me and his son (Jimmy) to the golf course at Ascarate Lake to play with his group. Jimmy and I would be allowed on the course after all the scheduled tee times. We’d be there from sun up to sunset each Saturday. During the summer, my mother and Jimmy’s mother would take turns each morning dropping us off and picking us up at the end of the day. The pro out there took a liking to us and he’d let us fish the lake for golf balls that could be resold in exchange for green fees. Jimmy’s dad was quite a character. He had a booming voice, and from anywhere on the course, you could hear him shout, “Holy Mole” whenever he hit a really bad shot.
My first matched set of clubs (Dunlop Max Powers) was a gift from my parents on my 16th birthday. In my mid to late teens, golf began to get in the way of other important things, like cars and girls. Later on college, marriage, work, and my own kids got in golf’s way. I try to hit a few balls during the week, but my playing of the game is mostly limited to Saturdays with my fellow iron thongers. Before I hooked on with this group, I’d just go out and hook in with a group as a single. That’s how I met Steve Schlemmer, who told me about iron thong.
I am constantly tinkering with my swing and setup. I am not afraid to show up on one Saturday with a new swing and/or setup from one week to the next. My search for the Holy Grail of swings continues. I can have a narrow, Louis Menchaca style, stance one week and a Darren Howard, extra wide stance the next week. I have found success in golf to be fleeting. It comes and goes. What worked for me one week fails me miserably the next week. It used to bother the crap out of me, but now I think I have made peace with the fact that search and chase for the consistent “always works” swing may be as much to what the game is about for me than whether I ever actually achieve it. Who knows, if my swing ever becomes as consistent as the one possessed by Steve V., I might become bored with the game and quit…..NOT!
MY GREATEST MOMENTS WHILE PLAYING GOLF:
I am still waiting for it. My current greatest moment was years ago when I made a hole in one for a par. Yes, I’d knocked my first ball into the water hazard. I’ve been close many times, most recently at Pine Forest in Bastrop, but I have never made a legitimate hole in one. My more recent greatest moment was clearing the ocean on number 18 at Pebble Beach from the tips. As intimidating as it looks on tv, it is much more so when you are actually standing there and attempting to do it yourself.
MY MOST MEMORABLE MOMENTS WHILE PLAYING GOLF
Actually, three (3) stand out: The summer of 2006, when I played Pebble Beach, Poppy Hills, and Spyglass on consecutive days. My screensaver at work is the famous par 3 No. 7 at Pebble Beach. The day I was playing Pebble, I was so jacked up that I used a sand wedge to tee off on that hole and hit it so flush that I sailed the green right into the ocean. It is considered very embarrassing to leave it short on that hole. Pebble Beach is far and away the most picturesque of the three courses, while Spyglass is far and away the toughest.
The next was when I was a kid, my friend Jimmy and I were playing at Santa Teresa near El Paso. The course had just recently opened and they were giving away free rounds to encourage membership at the country club. The Merry Mex, Lee Trevino, had designed the course and had a house built for him in the neighborhood. I sliced off the tee box and the ball landed next to a worker who was planting a tree next to the right side of the fairway. I yelled “fore” when I saw the ball heading toward the guy, but he never looked up. When I got to my ball the guy thanked me for having the courtesy to shout a warning. The worker planting the tree, Lee Trevino, himself. He took the time to talk to me and Jimmy and he signed our golf balls.
The other memorable moment was playing with the thongers the last time we were at Landa Park. I was having a particularly good start (I always seem to play well there). I am somewhat hard of hearing and never heard Mke F. commenting about my having hit a good shot or having made a good putt. On the tee box of the fourth hole, I think Mike just couldn’t stand it anymore. He came up really close to me and asked, “Are you hard of hearing or are you just an asshole.” I think my response was that I was little hard of hearing, to which Louis M. said, “not just a little” and I followed up by saying that I was fairly certain that there are those who also think I’m an asshole.
MY WORST MOMENT WHILE PLAYING GOLF
I did not know it was my worst moment until this morning. When we played The Hawk on 11/22/08, I was on the 18th green in regulation and I lagged my birdie putt to within 6 inches. I wanted to finish out, which required me to take a contorted stance so as not to be standing in the lies of Ron B. and Johnny M. I knew I should have just marked the ball and waited to finish out, but I let the closeness of my ball to the cup and my impatience get the best of me. You know what’s coming next. Yes, I missed the damn tap in. The following Monday morning, I discovered that had I made the putt, I would have tied Paul G.’s low score and I would have split the money with him. In the words of Roberto DiVencenzo, “What a stupid I am.” Those were DiVecenzo’s words after he incorrectly signed for a 66 when he’d actually scored a 65 at the 1968 Masters. As a result of his error, he was one stroke out of qualifying for the Monday playoff. In not having marked my ball and going through my normal routine, DiVencenzo’s words now apply to me.
WHAT I LIKE ABOUT BEING AN IRON THONGER:
The absolute best part of being a thonger is the blend of ages and different personalities.
THE BEST AND WORSE PARTS OF MY GOLF GAME:
Best: I am pretty good with chipping it close enough to give myself a chance to save par. I do it a lot since I don’t frequently enough hit greens in regulation.
Worst: Unfortunately, while my chipping gets me close enough to save a lot of pars, I am usually undone by my poor putting.