2013 Penn Tower Classic, Part IV

Beebles, Funk, and Smits continued their strong play through the front nine.  Beebles managed to overtake Funk on the leaderboard at one point, only to watch Funk snatch it back at the turn.  Smits stayed within 2 strokes of the leader.

The battle between the three athletes in contention raged on as the PTC moved to the back nine.  Smits got his first taste of the lead at the 12th hole, but Beebles and Funk stayed right on his tail.  As if the drama of the PTC wasn't prevalent enough already, Beebles, Funk, and Smits found themselves in a three-way tie for the lead heading into the 15th hole.  The 15th was a short 132 yard par-3, an easy pitch for men the likes of the KeyPAP clan.  But a pond that sat in front of the green loomed heavily in the minds of the athletes.  Funk took a particularly long time eying up his target across the pond.  He changed his mind several times about which club to use and kept speaking of the water bazard as the critical factor in his decision.  The crowd could sense that he was rattled.

Funk's swing was a graceful as ever, but immediately a look of panic came over his face after he made contact with the ball.  Over and over he repeated the phrase, "O no!" escalating from a whisper to a bellicose scream, but words don't have the power to change a golf ball's trajectory mid-flight.  The crowd watched in terror as the ball plunged into the pond five yards from the far edge of the shore.  Several frogs scattered away from the area as Funk looked on at the ripples in the pond emanating further and further from the scene of the crime.  With only four holes remaining and Beebles and Smits not willing to give an inch, Funk became the PTC's second victim to fall out of contention.  Fez tried to comfort his fellow martyr, but Funk didn't even have the capacity to hear words at this low point.

Beebles and Smits remained tied heading over the 16th hole.  Only three holes remained in regulation.  Would the first annual Penn Tower Classic require a playoff to determine an outright champion?  Would one of them hole an impossible iron shot and take the lead with and eagle?  Or would yet another man crack under the pressure, leaving the last man standing as champion?

The 16th was short downhill par-4 with the Jackie Robinson Parkway running along the right side.  The first 20 yards in front of the teebox was crowded by trees, but then opened up to an ultra-wide fairway down below.  Beebles stepped to the tee first and roped a straight shot down the hill.  Smits stepped up to the tee next feeling like Beebles' drive left a lot of distance on the table.  His aim was to outdrive Beebles and lay up for an easy chip onto the green for his second shot.  Smits approached his ball, set up straight at the flag and swung.

VVVOOOOOOMMMM

The ball leapt off the clubface and immediately curled to the right and out onto the Jackie Robinson Parkway.  He pulled out a second ball from his pocket and proceeded to hit another drive without take a practice swing.

VVVOOOOOOMMMM

Smits' second drive attempt followed the exact same path as the first.  Once again he set up for a drive and once again the ball tore off onto the highway.  As a fitting sumbol of the PTC's third and final bombout, the last drive landed with a crash onto an unsuspecting citizen's windshield sending a spider web of cracks across the entire window pane.  The startled driver weaved the back and forth on the highway in the midst of an involuntary panic attack.  Luckily, he was able to regain control of his car in time to avoid a fatal collision.

A few spectators began to weep.  More drama had unfolded in front of their eyes in a matter of four hours than entire year's worth of Lifetime original television programming.  But this wasn't fiction; it was all too real.  How much can the human soul bear to see before it becomes overwhelmed?  For some, Smits' triumvirate of hooked shots onto the Jackie Robinson Parkway was the final straw.

And so Beebles took a commanding lead without having to even swing his club.  All he had to do now was hold it together for three more holes and the PTC Championship would be his.  Funk made a valiant comeback with a birdie on 17, but Beebles' steady play kept him in the lead.

Beebles' triumphant victory march on 18 will remain etched in the minds of all who witnessed the 2013 PTC.  The three who had knocked themselves out of contention struck up a conversation now that they were alleviated from the PTC pressure, but Beebles did not partake.  He remained quiet, calm, and focused as he hit his first putt to within 8 feet of the hole.  As he waited for the others to putt, he stared daggers into the cup, simulating in his mind the final stroke which would secure his championship victory.  Slightly downhill with a break from left to right, he needed to aim 3 inches left of the cup.  Just as he had done all day, Beebles walked up to his ball and made his vision a reality and ended the 2013 Penn Tower Classic.

When the ball sank in the hole he simply stood on the green and took in the atmosphere.  The crowd roared their emphatic approval and began to chant his name.  With supreme class he doffed his cap to the crowd and embraced his KeyPAP competitors with a firm handshake.  Physically beaten down and emotional scarred from watching Fez, Funk, and Smits eliminate themselves from contention, he had no energy left to celebrate.

The physical and mental strength, endurance, and intensity put on display by all four competitors was nothing short of remarkable given the magnitude of the PTC combined with the events which unfolded the night before.  What these men did with no gas in the tank, no wood on the fire, no coal in the chamber will live on for time immemorial.  The 2013 Penn Tower Classic perfectly defined both KeyPAP and America.

2013 Penn Tower Classic, Part III

Four alarms simultaneously shrieked as the clock tolled 7:30am.  Drunk, delirious, and cotton-mouthed, Beebles, Fez, Funk, and Smits arose from the floor with the swiftness of a zombie.  Try as they might, there was no more delaying the inevitable - the Penn Tower Classic was scheduled to commence in less than an hour.

Fez and Funk collected themselves in time to dash across the street for a quick breakfast sandwich.  Smits and Beebles pillaged what was left of the chocolate chip cookies and pop tarts.  Everyone drank a cup of coffee hoping for the caffeine to jolt them awake, but the effects were negligible.  It is one thing for the body to repair itself after a night of binge drinking, but when combined with the mental stress caused by a looming, grueling athletic competition, no morning remedy will succeed.

Food and coffee consumed, the KeyPAP clan hastily dressed themselves and walked outside toward Fez's car.  The sun shone bright that morning, blitzing their dulled senses with tenacity of an NFL linebacker.  Smits put his forearm in front of his baggy eyes to allow them time to adjust to the sudden stimulus.

They hoisted their golf bags into the trunk and off they drove down Queens Boulevard toward Forest Park Golf Course.  No words were spoken on the ride.

As Fez pulled his Lexus into the parking lot, the KeyPAP clan was greeted by tumultuous applause.  A large crowd was expected, but nothing near this magnitude.  Cars filled every available parking space, many having to park on the shoulder of the surrounding local roads.  One space remained at the front, however, reserved for the Penn Tower Classic competitors.

They climbed out of the car, put on their golf shoes and walked briskly to the first tee.  The grounds crew had worked tirelessly all morning to bring the playing conditions up to a level suitable for the KeyPAP Tour's flagship event.  Their work was superb - the tee box on the 1st hole was cut tightly with not a single divot in sight.  A few droplets of dew clung to the tips of perfectly trimmed blades of grass.

Beebles was the first to tee off.  He slowly made his way to the first tee, set his ball then stepped back a few paces for three deliberate practice swings.  Two words repeated themselves incessantly in Beebles' mind:  solid contact.  Twenty years of experience had ingrained the correct pattern of movements into his musculoskeletal system in preparation for this moment.  Now all he had to do was execute.  Repeating this phrase was the cue which allowed Beebles to get his brain out of the way and let his body do the work.

Beebles took one deep breath and walked up to the left of his ball with the stealth of a lion closing in on an unsuspecting gazelle.  An eerie silence engulfed Forest Park as the crowd came to a hush for the first shot of the day.  Only the distant whirring of traffic and the songs of birds could be heard.  In this perfect moment, Beebles drew his driver back and swung forth on his ball with the might of Thor, Norse God of Thunder.  The ball took off over the tree shadows and carried over the fairway.  Its path stayed true and after a few seconds the ball landed and rolled onward, coming to a stop 300 yards from the tee in the middle of the fairway.

The crowd let out a deafening roar as Beebles reached down to retrieve his broken tee.  They had come expecting to see elite talent on display and Beebles had satisfied their appetite.  Little did they know that the next four hours would be a whirlwind of emotional toil and physical atrophy.

In similar fashion Funk, Fez, and Smits teed off.  The four men traversed the first hole with grace and class while the crowd marveled at their abilities.  When all four balls took their turn rattling into the bottom of the cup, Funk had taken the early lead.

For the next three holes the PTC competitors snaked their way through the crowd as they hit their shots.  All four competitors came out at the top of their game physically, jockeying for position while Funk clung to his narrow advantage.

The first dramatic even of the tournament occurred at the 5th hole.  After sinking a beautiful putt on the par-4 4th, Fez was set to tee off first at the 5th hole, a dangerous dog-leg right with a dense collection of trees encroaching on the right side of a narrow fairway.  Fez set himself to tee off just as he'd done thousands of times before.  But as he reached the peak of his backswing, a squirrel scurried across the teebox not ten feet in front of his ball.  The crowd cried out in collective shock as Fez, concentration lost only for a split-second in time, grazed the ball with the bottom of his driver.  The ball was pounded straight into the ground and only managed to bounce forward far enough to clear the ladies' tees.

Fez stood dumbfounded on the teebox searching for answers that could explain what had just occurred.  He'd spent hundreds of hours on the driving range with mis-hit golf balls crossing his path and loud ball retriever vehicles driving in front of his line, among a plethora of other distractions.  How could this squirrel cause him to lose control when he needed it most?

The three other competitors teed off with their balls in much better position.  Shaken, Fez walked up to his ball for his second shot.  The ball had landed deep in the thick, lush rough and he would need an absolutely perfect shot to get back onto the fairway.  But he could not evoke from his broken down body the necessary precision to accomplish this daunting task.  Instead the ball popped up and landed in the bunker at the edge of the woods 50 yards away.

Fez raised his face to the heavens and let out a howl reminiscent of a lone, wounded wolf trapped deep in the heart of the Canadian wilderness.  "Not again!" he exclaimed.

Confidence fully abdicated, Fez walked to the bunker for his third shot which he could only push a few yards further into the sand.  Smits looked away, vowing not to dwell on Fez's struggles while he took his second shot from the fairway.  All of the athletes were affected by this meltdown.  It reminded them what was possible if they failed to put every ounce of testicular fortitude into their efforts that day.  When the strokes had been tallied Fez was charged with a dreadful 11.

In the days that followed, Fez's performance on the 5th hole was succinctly coined "The Collapse." He went on to tally a second consecutive 11 on the 6th hole, all but eliminating him from the tournament from that point forward.

To be continued . . .

Exclusive Interview with Louis DiFez

After the successful interview of Dr. David Funk, official news correspondent, Ian Ding, was granted unprecendented access to another co-founder and co-president of KeyPAP, Mr. Louis DiFez.  In this rare opportunity in getting to know Mr. DiFez, Ian Ding discussed the 2013 Penn Tower Classic (PTC), his life, and what the KeyPAP means to him.

As I walked to meet Mr. DiFez on a scorching mid-summer at his downtown Philadelphia apartment, an air of nervousness overcame me.  I was waiting to meet with one of the valiant competitors in this year’s PTC.  I take the obnoxiously slow elevator to his 8th floor corner penthouse, which overlooks Center City Philadelphia.  He greets me with a smile, a firm handshake, and a strong gaze from his dark-chocolate brown eyes.  But behind his pleasantries, I sense a fragility, a somberness, which can only be caused by the exhausting course of events that is the PTC.  It is two days since the tournament, and from his all-black attire, he is clearly still in mourning.  This is what he had to say . . .

Ian Ding:  Mr. DiFez, it certainly is a pleasure to meet with you today. 
Louis DiFez:  No problem, Ian, the pleasure is mine. And please, call me Fez.

Ding:  Alright Fez, to begin, the first annual Penn Tower Classic has come and passed in grandiose style.  I know you were very vocal about your performance that day.  Can you give us what you were thinking going into the day, your expectations, and what you hoped for the championship? 
Fez:  Well, to start, I just want to congratulate my fellow competitors for a job a well done.  I especially want to congratulate Beebles on his victory; I know he grinded and the last few holes were difficult for him, but he scratched and clawed his way to a win.  For me, going into the PTC is preparing for the unthinkable, the unbearable, and the unknown.  Our ritual on the evening before left every competitor on an even playing field, with only our skills left to shine on the course . . .

Ding:  I’m sorry, but let me interrupt you for a second.  What exactly happened the night before the championship?
Fez: [laughs] Well, I don’t want to give away exactly what occurred, but I will say that we definitely all went into Sunday with the same physical burden.

Ding: [chuckles] I guess it will remain a mystery.  So please, continue.
Fez:  Right, so my thought process was to remain calm, to trust my instincts, and to know that even if I made mistakes, most likely my competition would make mistakes as well.  That is all easier said than done.  I also figured that the course would be playing firm and fast.  And boy, did it ever.  The greens were lightening quick and undulated with the best of them: Augusta, Royal Melbourne, Oakmont.  The team at Forest Park did a great job to make our life difficult.

Ding:  Please tell us what happened before the dreaded, the infamous, “The Collapse.”
Fez:  The images are scarred into my memory, the memories are burned into my thoughts; I replay the holes over and over in my head.  Through three holes, I was in second place and feeling confident, dare I say overconfident.  Gamesmanship is all part of golf, so trash talk was flowing like the wines of Rome as we walked to the fourth hole, which was a par 5.  One part of my game that I have recently been putting a lot of work into is my driver, however, it betrayed me that day.  I took a 2-stroke penalty off the tee and that rattled me.  I followed up with a couple chunky shots. I got to the green on my 8th shot, and was in the hole at 11.  I was devastated, frustrated, and extremely rattled going into the fifth hole.  The 5th was a dog-leg right par 4.  I sliced my drive into the woods, and then put what would be my 3rd shot short of a right fairway bunker.  I chunked my next shot into said bunker, and then spent my next two or three shots getting out of that bunker.  Again, when it was over, I put up an 11 again.  Can you believe that? [chuckles] Back-to-back 11s!  I knew, at that point, that I was out of the competition, but I tried to stay hungry.  I made a few pars, and a nice birdie at the 7th hole.  But I was mentally checked-out at that time and knew that it was over for me.

 Ding:  Well, most certainly you finished with class and dignity.  And I can also say that you put a reasonable round considering the agony that you endured in the PTC.
Fez:  I believe that is one of man’s greatest qualities:  the ability to endure; to get up for more after being knocked down.  A great man once said, “To live is to suffer, but to survive, that’s to find meaning in the suffering.” I certainly found meaning in my suffering that day, it caused me to work a little more seriously on my game.  Oh, and that great man I spoke of, it was DMX.

Ding:  Any final thoughts for the upcoming Penn Tower Classic Qualifier?
Fez:  Dr. [David] Funk and I were actually mutually discussing this at the 2013 PTC.  I felt overweight and out of shape. I am in the process of getting back into shape and losing weight.  I would like to go into the PTCQ down about 15-20 lbs.  I have also been working heavily on my game:  reworking my swing and getting back to the basics.  I feel that, in the end, I will shine at the PTCQ.  Things won’t be perfect, they never are, but I will focus and do the best that I can.

Ding:  Riveting, just riveting.  So, being the only member of KeyPAP who does not yet have a graduate degree, what are your plans for future?
Fez:  Again, it’s an honor and privilege to be in a group of such distinguished and accomplished gentlemen.  I will be a doctor soon, and I plan on being the best doctor I can be, while still retaining my roots and knowing where I came from and how hard I worked to get here.

Ding:  Well, Fez, it’s been a wonderful time. Thank you again for your time, and good luck in the Penn Tower Classic Qualifier.
Fez:  You’re welcome, Ian, it’s been my pleasure.

Exclusive Interview With Dr. David Funk

Today, KeyPAP's official news correspondent, Ian Ding, sat down with Dr. David Funk, co-founder and co-President of KeyPAP.  They talked about life, defeat, redemption, and the Penn Tower Classic.  Dr. Funk recently suffered a heartbreaking 2-stroke loss in the already infamous 2013 Penn Tower Classic (PTC).  This is what he had to say . . .

Ian Ding: Hello Dr. Funk, How are you doing today?
Dr. Funk: I’m doing fine thank you. You can call me Dave, after all I’m basically just like everyone else [winks]. 

Ding: [laughs] Well then, let’s get started.  I want to get right to it and ask you about the PTC.  What was it like going out there and mixing it up with Pennsylvania’s finest professionals?
Funk:  I’m going to be honest with you.  I was not too worried going into the match. The KeyPAP pre-match rituals were friendly and unassuming.  Little did I know what was about to ensue that day.  We went out there and immediately after the first tee I knew that this was going to be a fight that would take everything that I had.  Let me talk first about the mind games the PTC can play on a man.  With its now famous no stroke limit per hole, every shot set the stage for a potential meltdown.  I saw one of those meltdowns first hand early in the competition and frankly, it was tough to watch.  It was a shame, he didn’t have a chance with the pressure of the PTC on his shoulders.  After all he was the only player in the top four that had yet to finish grad school; to be involved with this group before graduating is an amazing accomplishment in its own right, but to expect that he could handle the trials and tribulations of the entire PTC was a bit much to ask.  I mean he was just a kid.  No matter, with two 11-stroke holes in a row he was essentially out of the competition before it started.

"I mean, he was just a kid."

Ding:  That must have taken a little of the pressure off of you, going from three competitors to two.
Funk:  You would think that wouldn’t you?  Watching that poor kid melt down like that just piled on the pressure for all of us. We knew that each bad shot we hit could be the hole that put us out of contention; we had just seen it happen.  As we came down the stretch the pressure mounted.  We saw grown men teeing off with low irons on par 4’s, petrified that they would be the PTC’s next victim.  Then the second meltdown came.  Completely unexpected, one of the most fundamental and conservative players on the KeyPAP Tour put three straight tee shots onto the Jackie Robinson Parkway.  Only two remained.

Ding: (on the edge of my seat at this point) I can actually feel your nerves at this point.  I mean, I know the outcome but I still can’t help but feel nervous for you.
Funk:  Ah, this demonstrates how difficult it is to explain the scoundrel that is the PTC.  At this point both of our nerves were shot. You can’t have that kind of stress on the mind for four hours and still process information on a meaningful level.  We were zombies.  My final challenger was saying things like, “Do you think that we are the most handsome foursome on the golf course today?”  This is not normal conversation while in the teeth of battle.  Finally I pulled out the rattler [this is the name Dave gave his 7 iron because of the loose material that rattles inside when it is held upside down] and put my tee shot in the water on a late round par 3 which ended my day and gave the PTC trophy to its rightful owner.

Ding:  That is as thrilling a sports story as I have ever had narrated to me.  How did it feel after it was all said and done?
Funk: I think that when I see the trophy presented at the presentation ceremony it will be the most difficult thing I will ever have to watch.  To be so close . . .  I imagine this moment in my mind and it is almost unbearable, the real thing will hurt exponentially.

Ding:  To what do you attribute your bitter defeat?
Funk:  There is a threefold answer to that question:  pride, fatigue, and mental exhaustion.

Ding:  Do you think that next year your experience will pay off and give you a better chance to win?
Funk:  Listen, you don’t get to be a member of the KeyPAP by resting on your laurels.  You work for it.  I plan to send a message to the rest of the tour at the KeyPAP qualifier this August.

"My body betrayed me."

Ding:  How do you plan to do this?
Funk: The mental exhaustion is unavoidable in a tournament of this caliber.  So I will address my other two downfalls.  I’m going to be completely honest with you.  My body betrayed me.  I was in the lead for nearly all of the front nine.  When the back nine came around and I no longer had all of my mental faculties available to me I had to rely on my body which was as doughy and unprepared for an event of this magnitude as it has ever been.  I plan to come into the PTCQ 15-20 pounds lighter and when my mind shuts down and relies on the motor patterns engrained into my body from the last 26 years, my body will be able to produce at its highest potential.  As for pride, I will be competing with a new set of clubs this time around.  The new set I will be using is only slightly newer and less dead than my last but it is a full set with no rattlers.  I convinced myself that I knew my clubs and that they were good enough.  Then my beloved rattler sat one right next to Davey Jones and I was out of the competition.  The last and most important aspect of my training is that I will play as little golf as possible in the next month leading up to the PTCQ.  One month of practice will mean nothing at this point.  As I have said many times before you cannot use your mind during the second half of these matches.  So developing new strategies and techniques would only compound the problems associated with the tour.  I will be relying completely on my primal golf instincts.

Ding:  Well Dave, our time is up for today and I must say, the pleasure was all mine.  I wish you all the best in the upcoming PTCQ.
Funk:  Thank you for having me, the re-telling of the story is humbling and it can only contribute to the spiritual growth one needs to call themselves a champion.

2013 Penn Tower Classic, Part I

There are but a handful of sporting events which live on in the memory of all citizens of the United States.  These are the games that make the front page of newspapers and never seem to fade from the collective memory of this great country.  They transcend sport itself and capture the attention and admiration of everyone, even those who don't normally watch sports.  There was Babe Ruth's called shot in the 1932 World Series.  Joe Namath's guarantee of victory in Super Bowl III.  The Miracle on Ice at the 1980 Winter Olympic Games.

Add to that list the first annual Penn Tower Classic golf tournament played on June 23, 2013.

The masses descended upon the venerable Forest Park Golf Course in Queens, NY for one of the most spectacular athletic events ever witnessed.  Children were awestruck.  Grown men wept.  The elderly shook their head in disbelief.  This author can confidently state America was changed for the better that day.

With only one tournament under its belt, the KeyPAP Tour has already usurped the quadrennial Olympic games as the world's most prestigious athletic competition.  For it is not merely a test of athletic ability; it is the ultimate fusion of war, social aptitude, intellect, and athletic prowess.

The audience may have shown up at daybreak on June 23, but the competition truly started the night before.

To be continued . . .