Robert Trent Jones, Jr. - Part One
It was just another day toward the end of a long project, putting the finishing touches on The Golf Fanatic’s Guide to Hawaii. I had gone out for coffee, and returned to find my voice mail indicator blinking. No big deal. I punched in my access code and the message began. The caller identified himself, and I experienced one of those hard heart palpitations that make you think you really need to start sticking to that workout routine. It was Robert Trent Jones, Jr. calling.
Now, this shouldn’t have been entirely unexpected. I had sent him an advance copy of the book and asked him for a blurb for the back cover. I had done so with other golfers, as well. In fact I had heard back from Mr. Jones’ brother Rees Jones, and also from Tadd Fujikawa, the (other) child prodigy who has electrified Hawaii and the golf world. But those guys had emailed. On the other hand, Robert Trent Jones, Jr., legendary golf course architect and son of trail-blazing golf course architect Robert Trent Jones, Sr., was speaking to me through my telephone, addressing me, commenting on my book, and, yes, indicating that he was coming to Denver in the coming week and proposing we get together.
Whoa.
Sizing up a putt on the fabled 3rd at Mauna Kea
He left a number and told me to call him back. I saved the message and listened to it again and again, writing down his comments, which included very nice words about the book, but also some corrections in regards to him. Like, for instance, how he was listed as the architect for a municipal course on Maui that had existed since the 1920s. Oops. It was a good thing we were still making final revisions. Also, he wanted to set the record straight about the renovations that had occurred at the Mauna Kea Golf Course, one of the most celebrated courses in Hawaii. The course had been designed by his father in the early ’60s, and is presently being reconditioned by his brother Rees, but he wanted it on the record that he had also renovated the course, back in the mid-’70s, when his father refused to soften the course for the tourists. This was great stuff. I made my notes, corrected the manuscript, and called him back. The call went to voicemail, so I left a friendly, somewhat-scripted message, apologizing for the mistake, expressing interest in hearing more about his renovation at Mauna Kea, and looking forward to hearing back from him.
I hung up the phone, satisfied and relieved, and relaxed into my office chair. Several minutes went by while I checked my email, surfed around, and generally let my mind wander and my game face slip away. My cell phone jerked me back to reality. I recognized the number. Crap! Where were my notes? Did it matter? Right, I had left him a very informative message. He was returning my call. Right. OK.
“This is Bob Jones.”
“Yes, right, hi Mr. Jones.”
“You called me.”
Oh god, he had just redialed his calls! He hadn’t listened to his messages…he didn’t even know who I was!
“Oh, this is uh, Bryan Fryklund, from The Golf Fanatic’s Guide to Hawaii…”
Nothing…pause…”Oh yeah, right, Bryan, hi how are you? Great book. I really enjoyed…”
Back to sanity. Heart attack fading. We spoke rationally. He was too busy to really chat, but he was coming to Denver to politic during the Democratic National Convention, and it would be great if we could get together. He told me to give him a call in the coming week, he would be there. And, really, he was hoping to get some folks together to golf, if I would be interested in that.
I gulped back the immediate flash of fear of playing with Mr. Jones and, what, congressmen, SENATORS?? I confidently assured him that sounded great and I would get in touch the next week.
Bryan Fryklund
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