Last weeks U.S Open at Merion brought back a lot of memories
for me. I interned at Merion for three years (1980-1982), and was a staff
member during the 1981 U.S. Open. During that time, I lived in the clubhouse in
a tiny room that overlooked the first tee, and for the most part, the club and
course was my home.
It was nothing in the evening to walk out through the back
kitchen door with a few clubs in hand and wander the back holes hitting a few
irons, chipping and putting around. Or going over to the West course with a few
friends. Hard to believe that to play Merion was that easy...
I was one of only three interns for the ’81 Open. I had come
on board back in ’80 and had worked towards that Open week from day one. We
built tees, installed drainage, performed aeration, did overseeding, sodding, sanded
the greens, planted dune grass (from Atlantic City CC) and scotch broom, lined
creek banks with stone – we did so much and so many things that I can’t
remember it all. And that was on top of all the basics – mowing, spraying, syringing,
setting up the course, raking traps by hand, repairing irrigation, etc. Many
days I would work my day and then after a short nap head back out and mow
fairways till dark....
I even made wickers. At that time an older man named
Guerrio D'Achille whom I greatly respected -he
had worked at Merion since time began it
seemed- made the wickers. He was an Itailian craftsmen who could make almost
anything with his hands. He had one good eye and the other could never fully
open and weeped constantly. One day he took me with him to a warehouse
somewhere in the bowels of Philly and bought bundles of rattan. Every day we
would soak the rattan in buckets of hot water to soften it so that it could be
worked. Guerro sat beside me and guided every movement of my fingers,
constantly saying in broken English “you no good! you no good! you only good
when you asleep” But I could not have been that bad because he kept me to help him
until they were all done, and some nights, he’d have me over to his house for
dinner and his homemade wine which had to have had an alcohol content of 150%.
Those were good times.
It was a different time then,,,One of my favorite characters
was Alfie, who mowed rough on the west course in an old dilapidated tractor
that pulled a five gang. He carried a shotgun with him and would shoot any
rabbit that crossed his path, take it behind the old shop there, and cook it up
for lunch. Of course ‘ol Alfie had wine too- and that was about 150% alcohol
too. Things like that would never happen now. There was another older man named
Frankie Machefavia who was maybe 90 years old. Everyday he walked the east
course with a scythe (he wore a hoodie and he looked like the grim reaper), and
trimmed the bunkers. There were no weedeaters at Merion. Frankie’s wine was
more potent than Guerrio and Alfie’s combined.
I could write story after story, but ....
But back to the Open...
Some of the things I remember from the 81’....before,
during, and after...
-A few weeks before the open, leading a crew with a truck
mounted gunite machine around the course spraying white sand on the “faces of
Merion”
-Meeting Arnold Palmer at Balustrol the year before –a
gentleman the whole way through, and meeting him again on Merion’s 16th
fairway weeks (or maybe a month) before the Open
-listening to Jack Nicholas complaining about the scotch
broom in the traps after playing a preview round a few weeks before the Open...we didn't remove it!
- Seeing the Good Year Blimp overhead – that was the moment that
I realized I was a part of something big
-Putting bricks in the green mower baskets to add weight
over the front roller to help firm the greens as we mowed them
- a car that had gotten on the course and did a few
doughnuts on the second green (I think it was the Friday night), but the green
was so firm it really did not do any damage
-Rolling the 12th tee after each group teed off –
it had been so wet from the week’s rain that we sodded the tee each morning and
then rolled it to keep the sod firm and in place through the competition.
- mowing the intermediate rough and walking paths with a
pushmower
-Taking the grass clippings from the mower baskets and
covering divots with them...so the divots were green!
-Our mechanic, Frankie, throwing fire crackers under the ABC
t.v. control trailer to see the unaware technicians run out in a panic–
now Frankie was a character!
-Seeing Bill Rodgers in the parking lot after the Open,
leaning on his car, with his head down in what must have been total
dejection...the defeat of coming in second. Later he would win the 1981 British Open.
And of course I remember and will always remember Richie
Valentine, Merion’s superintendent – there is not a day that goes by that I am
not reminded of him or something he taught me...I don’t know if I would have ever
made it without him.
