Ritzville Women’s Golf Tournament

On Aug. 12, I played in my third annual Ritzville Women’s’ Golf Tournament. I partnered with Harriet, a woman of humor, tolerance and grace, which is how she survived eighteen holes with me. The experience could have devastated a lesser person.

Debbie and Elke from Quincy completed our foursome. We very much enjoyed playing with them. They didn’t seem bothered by that day’s feels-like-triple-digits scorching heat, but that’s no surprise since it’s hot enough in Quincy to produce solar flares. They carried the same handicaps as us, although they played better which could have been a fluke, but I doubt it.

I did find a few of the tournament rules a bit curious. For example, after I’d spent 10 minutes practicing a few putts on one of the greens before the tournament began, I was approached by a guest who informed me in a most aggressive fashion that I could be disqualified from a tournament by practicing on greens that would later be in play. Assuming she was correct, (I didn’t challenge her because she was, frankly, scary), I wondered why such a rule exists. One might consider practice a good thing.

Here’s another one: If you swing at the ball and miss it entirely, it costs you a point. How can a rule that penalizes making an effort be wise? How much more generous would it be to simply join in the nervous chortle emanating from she who made the misplaced swing, murmur an “I hate it when I do that!” to let her know you commiserate, and then go on with the game? Her dignity is salvaged, her score is protected, and camaraderie is established.

Why should it cost two points if a player hits her cart with her ball? I could understand if she smacks someone else’s cart (or someone else), particularly on another fairway. I could also understand a point or two if, in an uncontrolled moment of angst, she commences to wail on her cart with her clubs; it looks bad and can destroy the ambiance of friendly competition. But penalizing a player for inadvertently hitting one’s own cart seems excessive. After all, we hardly see the fairways littered with bodies because of myriad mis-driven balls flying hither and yon. The tournament players have much better control than that and obviously hitting your cart with one is a quirk.

In a tournament, players have the option to buy two ‘mulligans,’ one for each nine holes. They are do-overs, which are graciously conveyed non-gratis during non-tournament play, and are an automatic part of ladies golf. We allow it because we understand that everyone occasionally messes up on a tee-off, and a penalty on top of the initial embarrassment is cruel. One simply shouldn’t attempt to put a price or limit on kindness.

I expect no changes, of course, particularly since a very large national organization imposes these rules. I wonder if there’s a rule against venting on rules during the tournament. It’s probably another two-pointer. Good thing I was too hot and struggling with an all-time high level of personal humiliation to engage in it.

Afterward, I mentioned one or two of these criticisms to Ozzie and was laughed down. I have two words for you, Ozzie: sensitivity training. Perhaps sessions can be offered at the men’s morning coffee gathering at the Ritzville Golf Course (9AM, M-F).

The clubhouse was nicely and appropriately decorated for our tournament, well stocked, the greens were in excellent shape and lunch was good. Thank you from a tournament participant to everyone from Dan, Mary, and staff to the cart owners who so generously shared theirs with our guests to those who contributed funds to help support the effort to the golfing women of Ritzville who helped put it together: It was an excellent day, despite some strange rules!