SNOQUALMIE – While Tom Kite was working overtime to win the Boeing Greater Seattle Classic Sunday, Texan Tom Jenkins was the last to come from nowhere and nab a tournament and course record 61, 11 under par for the day.
That was three records in three days at the TPC at Snoqualmie Ridge. Massy Kuramoto blazed to a 63 in Friday’s opening round. Twenty-four hours later, Scott Simpson erased it with a 61, a score matched by Jenkins Sunday.
Jenkins, a virtual Sen. John McCain clone, finished the tournament at 14-under 202, in a five-way tie for third place.
“It was just one of those days,” Jenkins said. “I’m sure Scott felt the same way yesterday.”
Jenkins, 59, recorded nine birdies and an eagle on another day made for golf and a forgiving course that commanded low scores. He needed just 23 putts all day.
Jenkins would have loved some of that Friday, when he struggled to a 2-over 74, which put him in a nine-way tie for 59th place in the field of 78.
The problem was a week-long neglect of his game, brought on by his family moving into a new house in Austin, Tex. He’d spent the last week playing with his two sons, ages 6 and 3. And that’s about it.
Then, in trying to prepare for the tournament, Jenkins arrived Monday, hit some balls Tuesday and Wednesday and played in the Pro-Am. His game, however, still needed rust knocked off it.
“Sometimes when you do that, it takes a day to get the timing and rhythm back,” Jenkins said. “I didn’t practice at all when I was home. I didn’t feel right Friday, but I could tell the putting was coming around by the end of the round.”
He followed his 74 with a 5-under 67 on Saturday.
Was he tired from his move into his third house in the past four years?
“I told my wife I wasn’t gonna move a sock,” he said. “She hires everybody and moves everything. I leave and then come back and hope I know which house I’m walking into.”
Good-luck charm of the tournament: Isao Aoki, who played with both Simpson and Jenkins during their record rounds.
“We were kinda laughing about that with Aoki on the first tee,” Jenkins said. “I told him, ‘I hope you’re the lucky charm.’ Then, bingo.”
In a tournament that produced three course records in three days, absurdity was the norm. At one point, seven players were tied for the lead at 14-under with the last threesome teeing off at No. 14.
Also, here’s to the dim bulb in the invitation-only luxury boxes along the 18th green who caught Keith Fergus’ second shot in the sudden-death playoff with Kite in his baseball cap and dumped the ball onto the turf.
Then there was the fan who planted himself in his folding chair well back of the gallery, a perfect vantage point to watch the final group finish out the ninth hole Sunday.
One problem. Unbeknownst to him, his chosen seat was right in the middle of the No. 10 fairway. And Tom Kite was standing at the tee, ready to rip. Kite did a classic double-take as his caddie yelled for the guy to move.
“I can’t think of a better place to watch a golf tournament,” Kite cracked just before he and his driver swatted a shot down the middle of the fairway.
Here’s another bright one. On the par-3 ninth hole Friday, Lonnie Nielsen was addressing his tee shot, a tricky attempt into a tight green guarded by a pond on the right and three bunkers around it.
So what happens? As the gallery turns as silent as a tomb and at the precise moment Nielsen begins his backswing, some bozo’s cellphone rings like somebody escaped from prison.
So the gallery, players, caddies and everyone else are trying to figure out who the culprit is, presumably so they can deposit the body into Snoqualmie Falls. After all, everywhere are signs warning against the use of such marvels of modern science. There’s exactly zero excuse.
Then the phone rings again.
Soon, everyone narrows it down to the guy sitting in his folding chair, wearing a power-blue sweatsuit. At first, he looked around as though he was trying to find the offender, but soon discovered he wasn’t faking anybody out.
Looking at the ground, he reached into his pants pocket and switched off the phone.
“Not a smart move, sir,” Nielsen’s caddy said as he passed by.
No, it wasn’t. But like the tournament itself, it was enormously entertaining.
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