A big birdie with Chi Chi

Tuesday of Toshiba Senior Classic week will forever reside in memory

as the day I played 18 holes with the one and only Chi Chi Rodriguez.

And to think I was going to play just nine. I would have missed

out on the hole of the day -- the par-4 10th at Newport Beach Country

Club, which yielded my one and only birdie.

I, along with another member of the media, spent the late morning

and early afternoon with Rodriguez, 68, and Paul Parks, Chi Chi’s

caddie for the day.

I was hesitant at first to go the extra holes because I worried

about having enough time to write my stories and get the interviews

for the day. But Rodriguez, whose real name is Juan Antonio, would

have none of it. He wanted all of us to finish together.

Plus, how many times do you get to play with “Chi Chi?”

So I stood on the 10th tee gazing into the fog that slowly crept

onto the course, providing a gray canopy after a sunny morning.

The gallery of about 20 spectators brought back thoughts of junior

golf days when I would stand on the tee with parents watching,

praying I wouldn’t hit a bad shot.

The club went back, then through and the ball bolted off the

clubface, sailing along the right side of a fairway that pinches

slightly in a landing area.

It looked like a shot that would find the short grass, but as I

drove up the fairway, there was this white ball sitting in the sand

trap.

Out came the 3-iron and another prayer.

Ironically, that was the crispest 3-iron shot I hit all day and

the ball bounced near the front of the green and rolled 20 feet past.

The ensuing putt was a left-to-right breaker. I made my two

practice swings and then let the arms do the work. The ball rolled

smoothly along the line and dropped in softly.

A birdie, playing with “Chi Chi.” That made my day.

It was quite a turnaround from the first hole, when a gallery of

similar size was watching our group tee off.

We teed off about 11:30 a.m. on the first hole -- a dogleg-left

par-4. Another sportswriter in our group gets up there and in his

short, compact swing, pounds it 250 yards down the fairway.

I hadn’t played golf for nearly two months and I am standing on

the first tee, knees shaking and what happens?

Yep, a snap hook that travels not more than 100 yards into the

left rough that has grown to about 2 1/2 inches in preparation for

Friday’s first round of the Toshiba Senior Classic.

Dryness permeated my throat.

I thought, “Should I even be playing with these guys?”

Without hesitation, Rodriguez, who won eight times on the PGA Tour

and is a member of the World Golf Hall of Fame, walks over, grabs the

club and tilts it back slightly.

This feels funny. My hands are too far back. How would I hit the

next one?

Back went the club and the ball sailed right to left into the

rough, but at least it was out there.

But Rodriguez was not done with me yet.

Grip was the next thing he changed. He had me place my right hand

on the club first and then place the left over it.

“Bam!” The ball sailed up the right side of the fairway before

stopping in the intermediate rough, a pronounced improvement from the

first shot.

Throughout the round, Rodriguez repeated, “Have confidence.” This

usually came when I stood on the tee.

Boy was he ever right.

This game all about how you think, or not think.

Each time I teed up the ball, I repeated Rodriguez’s words in

silence and pretty soon I was consistently hitting the ball solidly.

Even though it didn’t always find the fairway, at least a majority of

shots weren’t pull hooks or banana slices.

I saved those for the bunkers or the few chips I managed to skull

over the green.

Hey, it’s golf. You hit some good shots and you hit some that

deserve a place in the garbage can.

We didn’t keep score, which was probably a good thing in my case

and allowed us to be more casual and listen to Rodriguez’s

wisecracks, of which he had about two per hole.

On the second tee when another reporter in our group hit his drive

right and I hit mine left into the rough, Rodriguez chimed in, “I

hope you guys aren’t riding in the same cart.”

The native Puerto Rican who has won 22 times on the senior tour

cut the middle of the hole with his drive and, referring to PGA Tour

golfer Tiger Woods’ length, said, “I hit that shot like Woods hits a

7-iron.”

On the fifth green, when a 15-foot downhill putt veered slightly

to the left, Rodriguez said, “That putt went to the left like [Cuban

President Fidel Castro].”

In reference to his final-round 90 at last week’s SBC Classic,

Rodriguez said, “My caddie there was ready to fire me.”

There were others that might not be fit for publishing in this

newspaper, but they kept the mood light, which helped get me through

the first few holes when I worried my game might never surface.

Rodriguez, in his typical smooth, compact swing that is free of

gyrations and unexpected movements, generated four birdies, usually

followed with his trademark “Zorro” dance with the putter.

No dance was more poignant or elaborate than the one following his

birdie putt on 18, when he grabbed the putterhead with his right

hand, positioned the shaft toward the ground and lowered his right

arm as if to return a sword to its sheath. Rodriguez had holed a

downhill 35-footer to end the round with a flourish.

Slowly he waltzed toward the hole to retrieve the ball, preceding

the trademark twirling putter routine. He held the head and twirled

the putter three or four times -- resembling a joust -- and pointed

it toward two applauding ladies standing off the green,

“It’s all about the left hand,” said Rodriguez, as he gave a brief

lesson on the mechanics of sliding the putter down as if it was going

into a protective sheath, like a sword.

“I’ve had people who have overcompensated, hurt their hand and

called me on it,” Rodriguez said.

An added treat occurred on the back nine, when Fuzzy Zoeller,

sitting in a cart on the 13th tee, rode alongside for a few holes and

lightened the mood even further.

On the 13th green -- a par-3 -- after my putt from the fringe

stopped about 15 feet right of the hole, Zoeller said, “You know what

they say in Indiana? Nice drive.”

When I then forgot to pick up my pitching wedge -- lying in the

greenside rough at 13 -- Zoeller was the one to retrieve it.

That is a 20-handicapper for you.

As the back nine progressed, I was getting more comfortable with

my drives and they were sailing straighter and farther.

I was relaxed and soaked up the moment, while learning a bit more

about Rodriguez.

He is a baseball nut. He pitched in a Class A league in Puerto

Rico and remembered when Roberto Clemente, a fellow Puerto Rican and

a Hall of Fame outfielder with the Pittsburgh Pirates, competed

against teams Rodriguez was on. Clemente died in a plane crash at the

age of 38 on New Year’s Eve 1972 and was the first Latin American to

gain entry into baseball’s Hall of Fame.

The name “Chi Chi” was given when he was 7. His friends knew he

idolized Chi Chi Flores, a pitcher Rodriguez grew up watching.

Rodriguez’s influence in the community and around the world is

unquestioned.

He has raised more than $5 million for his Chi Chi Rodriguez

Foundation in Clearwater, Fla., which serves inner-city youth who are

at risk of dropping out of school. In 1994 he was inducted into the

World Humanitarian Sports Hall of Fame and spoke with Mother Teresa

for 45 minutes.

He is active, funny, energetic and concerned.

Oh, yeah, and he can still hit the golf ball.

What a ride for the kid who learned how to play golf by hitting

tin cans with a guava tree stick.

The message resonates.

“Trust yourself and have confidence.”