Bring In The Noise

By Nick Seitz
Photo By Stan Badz/PGA Tour January 25, 2008

Players can't miss the large sign above the tunnel taking them through the stands onto the 16th tee at TPC Scottsdale during the FBR Open. It reads: WELCOME TO THE MOST EXCITING HOLE IN GOLF -- ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING.

Tour veterans know that to be an egregious understatement.

The 16th hole may come late in the round, but it gets into their heads much earlier. "You know it's coming all day long," says Bart Bryant. "You're just hoping you don't miss the green or miss a putt there, because that crowd's tough."

The seemingly straightforward par 3, listed at a mere 162 yards, is the most notorious, wildest party hole on the PGA Tour. It also can be the most fun. At peak times it is surrounded by 15,000 excitable fans who consider themselves part of the show -- which they assuredly are.

They come in all shapes and ages, and they come in full-throated enthusiasm requiring frequent lubrication from busy concession stations. A long row of portable toilets lines the access road above the hole.

If the 16th was an entertainer, it would be the bumptious Bill Murray. The wacky comedian chipped in for birdie there one year during the pro-am and was so nonplussed he nearly forgot to go crazy.

The 16th is modern sport's answer to the Roman Colosseum with its thumbs-up-or-thumbs-down spectacles. It is the tour's answer to television's reality shows. Pandemonium in the desert. It inspired a live online blog before blogs became blogs.

The attention lavished on the hole and the good-times atmosphere of the most massively attended tournament distracts from the appeal of the closing holes at TPC Scottsdale. The 15th through 18th comprise one of the most exciting and testing finishes anywhere: the 15th, a sometimes reachable par 5; the 16th, a short hole unto itself; the 17th, a drivable par 4; and the 18th, a strong 4 with water on the left and heavy bunkering on the right.

But there is no minimizing the impact of 16, surrounded stadium-style by bleachers, double-decker corporate skyboxes (worth more than $6 million to the tournament) and a crowded hillside behind the green. The leaders of the crowd involvement sit, or rather stand, next to the player entrance, a group of boisterous twentysomethings in purple Viking jerseys down from Minnesota each winter armed with tanning lotion and crib sheets about golfers' backgrounds. (After Phil Mickelson won the Masters they showed up wearing green jackets.)

They cue the chorus around them in greeting each pairing with booming versions of players' old school songs and chants, their national anthems if they hail from foreign countries, birthday songs for their offspring and, if they are Ryder Cuppers, patriotically themed support. One player says, "They dig up things you don't even know about. They get more and more clever."

For Tripp Isenhour, whose hobby is cooking, a chant was "Gourmet cook, gourmet cook ?" Last year's champion, Aaron Baddeley, was surprised by a chant about his dog Brutus and the pet's dislike of brooms. If silence threatens to break out, you might hear "Go sign girl!"

When the baseball Yankees take the field at home, bleacher creatures in the close right-field stands at Yankee Stadium chant each player's name until the player raises his hand in acknowledgment. A tip of the cap or a wave is common from the golfers at 16. Bubba Watson has cultivated favor by tossing extra caps to the fans. Bets are made in the crowd on whether a player will hit the green or who will be closest to the hole.

As soon as a golfer makes contact with the ball -- and the timing is perilously close -- the crowd explodes in noise that quickly turns into raucous approval or disapproval. A good-looking shot is loudly urged to go "in the hole!" or, in the case of Latino players such as Camilo Villegas from Colombia, "en el hoyo!" A bad shot will be booed vigorously. Seasoned pros have learned the best reaction to the booing is to grin and endure it. "I deserved to be booed for hitting a terrible shot," Rocco Mediate once said. "They're a little loud and a little crazy. If you can't deal with that, don't come."

A few players, especially those who attended nearby Arizona State, are usually spared. The crowd participation took root when ASU students gathered at 16 to support past and present Sun Devils.

John Daly is another favorite -- these are his people. He says, "It's like hitting a shot in a football stadium. But it's better to have 15,000 going crazy than one."

On increasingly rare occasions the fan behavior can turn darker. Chris DiMarco was struggling on his way to winning the 2002 tournament. As he addressed a birdie putt at 16, an overserved fan hollered "Noonan!" Fans of the movie "Caddyshack" know the character's name as a reference to choking. DiMarco recomposed himself to make the putt, then pointed out the fan and had him removed. Security has been much tighter in recent years.