You probably think this is a scam, the kind that belongs bold-lettered onto the front of a Prize Patrol envelope. At Syracuse University, you can play the most expensive sport on earth for zilch. Totally free golf!

You’re probably scoffing at the idea, because you’re old enough and wise enough to know that golf is free just like Hummers are modest and state fairs are refined. But fear not, because I, too, once felt some suspicion. All misgivings disappeared, however, when I recently visited Drumlins Country Club (just a road from South Campus), presented my SU student ID and discovered a wondrous activity bereft of expenditures – no transportation, no tips, no taxes. Just good old-fashioned freedom.

I played golf at Drumlins three times this weekend, and I report with much pleasure that this sweetheart deal has absolutely no strings attached. Not a single one.

This comes as great news, because golf, in my opinion, ranks among the noblest of ventures. It’s the recreational equivalent of a world exploration – men, women and overly-pubescent 13-year-old phenoms test their wills against the brutality of nature. (Plus, as a writer, I’m automatically drawn to golf, being that it’s the only sport I can think of with its own pencil.)

Before moving onward, though, a little background about my own golfing ability: I am bad. Very bad. Golfers, self-effacing as they are, seem naturally inclined to equate their 18-hole scores with summer climates – temperatures from Arizona or Texas, perhaps. But regrettably, I’ll have to pass. I still haven’t found a place hot enough.

Even though I bought a new set of clubs this month, my game is about as defective as the S.C.O.R.E. ‘swap’ button. My putting ability ranges between bad and horrific. My iron game invariably precedes the word ‘Fore!’ And my tee shots? Well, let’s just say when I whiff, I’ve gotten very good at pretending it was just a practice shot.

As it turns out, thankfully, my ineptitude likens me to most other SU golfers at Drumlins.

Course ranger Stan Sakowski said that about 100 students played the course on Sunday, making for one of the course’s busier days. Based on unofficial statistics compiled through observation, roughly 96 or 97 of those players consistently hit tee shots that look like grounders to shortstop. Thing is, nobody seems to mind, because with free golf, you’re also free of standards.

At Drumlins, don’t expect strict dress codes or high-nosed etiquette. ‘Long as you’ve got a top on I’ll let you play,’ said Sakowski, 76. ‘I just don’t wanna see kids going bare-skin.’

On Saturday, one particular college student trundled the course in shower sandals, tattered shorts and a retro-style Shawn Kemp basketball jersey. Had you journeyed to the seventh hole the following day, you’d have discovered a hungover student, golf bag still weighing on his back, spewing vomit into a cloak of trees.

If golf is a good walk spoiled, as Mark Twain once opined, Drumlins is now spoiled by a good yak.

Of course, nobody confused the place with Pebble Beach even beforehand. In May 2002, Drumlins – which has two courses, one reserved for members and other money-paying sorts – opened its lesser course for students to play for free. Since then, all Syracuse undergrads have enjoyed the opportunity to freely trample the course into further disrepair.

The course measures a hilly 5,967 yards, containing six par-3s and four par-5s. Sadly, the holes lack legitimate fairways – a thick grass consumes the entire course, making it very possible for golfers to lose their balls even when they hit them perfectly straight. Perhaps unfairways might be the more appropriate term.

Yet to be fair, Drumlins does offer some more conventional challenges. The course has enough doglegs for an entire kennel, and at every turn it presents players with a bevy of blind shots.

Sometimes the course can even offer a surprise. When I played the second hole Friday, I stroked a shot from about 130 feet away within five feet of the pin. Under normal conditions, the ball would have bounced sharply off the green, but as it turned out, a temperamental sprinkler had been drowning the green in thick water all afternoon. With my ball halted, I faced a soggy but makeable par putt – quite literally, golf’s version of a wet dream.

Besides looking for water-logged greens, I can offer little advice. Just one thing, actually. Make sure to play the 18th. If Casey Kasem were counting down the best holes at Drumlins, you’d be waiting until noon to hear about this one. It’s just 150 yards – golfers tee off from a high perch and drop their shots onto a green that sits 50 feet downhill.

It’s the ultimate picture for free golf, perfect for a sunset postcard that ought to say ‘Syracuse: It’s not the most miserable place on earth.’

With free golf, how could it be? Who could resist the chance to muff some shots, break some tees, lose some pride and appreciate the scenery of a vomit-speckled golf course?

A sweetheart deal if ever there was one.

Published on August 25, 2003 at 12:00 pm