Bio of Pete Cliburn
 |
Average Handicap –I entered ITG at about 22, and on a 5-year hiatus from the game. I’ve managed to get down to around 17 while with you guys, but lack of practice and a pinched nerve have gotten it back up to over 20 (See “Course Management” below) Nick Name – Same one I’ve had for the last 59 years, “Pete”. You guys think it’s my real name, but it came from my aunts when I was Jr. It was my Dad’s nickname, but don’t ask where he got it. That story went to his grave with him.
Average Drive Length
–
I’ve hit some good
ones around 350, when it all comes together, but I’m happy with over
200 in the fairway. Just can’t bring myself to play strategic,
course management
golf to the 150 marker off the tee!
In the Bag – Cobras, from pitch to driver. The woods I bought off Al Menchaca last year. Got a good deal on the irons from a friend in 2001. $200 for the set, and another $200 for the bag, once I decided to use carts for the rest of my life. Ever tried to heft a loaded tour bag any further than from the parking lot? I don’t know how the pro caddies do it other than thinking about the paydays on Sunday! I recently changed putters, after 37 years, but the Arnold Palmer I’m using now just doesn’t have the feel I’m used to with the ole standby Ping. Get used to being annoyed on the practice green again boys … it’s going back in the bag at Tapatio this week! |
The BS
I’m only slightly younger than our illustrious Pres, Steve (NOT BARAK … I’d never have used the term illustrious for him). My 61st is coming up in August, and my only celebration that day may be the 50 years with golf.
I started playing with my cousin at his dad’s country club in Orange, TX. It was probably the only course in town, and probably not a country club, but since my uncle was the VP of the town’s shipyard, it looked and felt like HIS country club. He took me and Dad bird hunting a couple of times. Twice in one weekend. The main hunt was doves out around George West, but the best hunt was in the motel room the night before, tryin’ to get to the next bottle of Wild Turkey 101 out of the case in my uncle’s trunk.
Dad was in sales, in the oil patch, so while in Houston, we played on the company membership at Champions. In the late 50’s and early 60’s it don’t get no better for a teenager with an itch and some clubs.
While I the Navy, I did manage to figure out the best way to get out of work in overseas ports. The officers, and especially the Captain, fancy themselves pretty fair golfers. Let them win and the word gets around that you’re a great filler for a foursome, and they don’t care if it’s your duty day or not … you’re playin with the CO!
Benictican, in Subic Bay, Phillipines was a real treat. No carts, just native caddies. And with a good tip, you always came back with more golf balls than you left with. One hole was so steep to the tee that there was a rope climb up the 100-yd incline. Once on the tee, the shot was a blind, downhill, dogleg right, to a postage stamp green about 450 yards away. Hit it where the caddy says, stupid. On the back nine, you had to manage your game and the local fauna. One of my few great drives on a straightaway par four was sitting up pretty in the middle of the fairway, with me admiring the shot, when a monkey comes out of the jungle, lopes up to my ball, proceeds to taste it, then cart it back into the jungle for a better look-see. Not even the caddy wanted any part of that monkey, so I took a lost ball penalty on the hole, and carted a great story back to the states to share with you guys.
Everyone says the courses in the Carolinas and in Florida are great, but for a true variety of tracks, you can’t beat southern California and Vegas. With munis like Torrey Pines and Coronado, military courses like Admiral Baker and NAS North Island, and resort courses with great off season rates in Palm Springs and Vegas, we could move ITG to that area and never play the same course all year. The commute would be a bitch, though.