Number crunching here is par for the course

Greg Risling

Rub. Scratch. Rub.

The numbers vanished and reappeared.

I haven’t used an eraser in years, but it sure came in handy Friday

morning as I scored a round of golf at the Toshiba Senior Classic.

What was once a smooth nub turned into a leveled rubber pad by day’s end.

An eraser is a pencil’s best friend. It was a pal of mine, too.

Keeping score isn’t hard in golf. How hard is it to distinguish a birdie

from a bogey or an eagle from even par?

The difficult part is keeping track of the score for the right person. At

Toshiba, scorers follow a threesome of senior golfers, one fewer than the

regular professional circuit. The challenge is remembering the right

names with the right faces.

Little did I know before our tee time that I would be placed in a

prestigious group.

There was Tommy Aaron, the 1973 Masters winner, and Gene Littler, who won

the U.S. Open in 1961 -- and graduated from the same school I did, San

Diego State. Go Aztecs!

There was no pressure about my one-day job because I wasn’t an official

scorer. My colleagues didn’t think I could handle the responsibility.

“What if you get it wrong?” asked one staffer.

Hardly a vote of confidence.

Two volunteers wearing bright red sweaters actually handled the official

scoring. I went along for the ride.

We were given sheets with a bunch of symbols and numbers, an utterly

confusing list if you have never scored. There were seven categories for

each hole and each golfer. I had an easier time doing my taxes.

So began the process of putting the right face with the right score.

Rub. Scratch. Rub.

It took a few holes to get it right. Thank God, the real scoring was left

to the volunteers.

Once the golfers finished a hole, the scorers ripped off a corresponding

sheet of paper and handed it to another volunteer. That person operated a

computer that kept tabs of the golfers’ scores, which would be relayed to

the tote board displaying the leaders and pairings.

I got to keep my sheets.

The only real impact I had was telling the standard-bearer -- the person

who carries around the sign with names and current relation to par --

what each golfer had done that hole.

One of the guys in my group was Hal Barham of San Clemente. Both Barham

and his wife, Marcia, signed up for Toshiba duty. They wanted to score

because it would be good exercise. Besides, they could walk side by side

with their favorite golfers.

“I didn’t know any of the guys I was with,” said Marcia. “I was sort of

disappointed.”

No matter. Our trio was sizzling through the first three holes, led by

Aaron at two-under par. Aaron caught fire in the middle of the round,

taking the lead on the 12th hole at four-under. But our threesome took a

turn for the worse during the stretch run. Aaron, at even par, finished

with the group’s best score.

The volunteers turned in their final scorecards while my sheets looked

like the scribblings of a 4-year-old.

The players signed a few golf balls and gave them to the scorers. I

declined. Not right to accept freebies on the job.

Four hours later, my knees were a little stiff, my feet a bit tired, but

at least I came out with the same score the officials had.

I’m just glad they didn’t give me a pen.