Golf, water and the growing global warming crisis


I have always thought that golf courses are perhaps the finest collaborative work between God and man. Yes, only God can make a tree, but golf course architects can make trees seem prettier, and golf course superintendents can make the grass greener and the flowers brighter, so that even when you can't hit a fairway or sink a putt, it certainly is an awfully lovely place to be frustrated.
The only thing is, the whole experience, the whole sport, is utterly dependent on one thing: H20. Water. And, of course, we don't have enough water anymore for all the people on this earth. And, of course, whereas we lack oil, there are other forms of energy, but when we lack water we simply get thirstier. A golf course is a selfish creature.
There are now approximately 16,000 courses in the United States -- about half the total in all the world -- and if you laid them out together, they would be as large as Delaware. Granted, Delaware is a small state, but I don't imagine if you took all the baseball diamonds and all the football fields and all the basketball and tennis courts and put them all together they would even make up a Rhode Island. And that Delaware of golf courses uses water, lots of it. They call them "greens" for a reason, don't they?
Audubon International estimates that the average American course uses 312,000 gallons per day. In a place like Palm Springs, where 57 golf courses challenge the desert, each course eats up a million gallons a day. That is, each course each day in Palm Springs consumes as much water as an American family of four uses in four years.
Now, granted, it's easy to pick on golf. It's a rich man's game, and when we see its stewards, they're always in military blazers and they're stuffy and pompous. But a great many people in golf are catching on. Dr. Eleanor Sterling, the curator for a magnificent exhibit about the water crisis that's been at the American Museum of Natural History in New York, tells me: "There are opportunities for the sport to adapt, and there are signs that it is doing so."
In its May issue, Golf Digest devoted a huge, candid article by John Barton to the subject, in which the magazine states very frankly: "Golf will face a crisis over water." And then it outlines what must be done. Must. Must. It won't be easy. Golf Digest points out, for example, that an incredible 41 percent of golfers polled believe global warming is a myth. Could there be any other group in the world, including ostriches, where so many are so dense?
But amongst the 59 percent of the enlightened golfers, the problem is being addressed. Perhaps as many as a thousand courses are using recycled or reclaimed water, and the United States Golf Association has made that mandatory for some areas of the Southwest. New grasses are being developed that require less moisture to thrive. Overseeding is being frowned upon. Courses are being returned more to their natural state so grass will often have to lose some of its sheen. You see, at the end of the day, for golf to go green and accommodate itself to the real world, it's simply going to have to be much more brown.

Frank Deford is among the most versatile of American writers. His work has appeared in virtually every medium, including print, where he has written eloquently for Sports Illustrated since 1962. Deford is currently the magazine's Senior Contributing Writer and contributes a weekly column to SI.com. Deford can be heard as a commentator each week on Morning Edition. On television he is a regular correspondent on the HBO show Real Sports With Bryant Gumbel. He is the author of 15 books, and his latest,The Enitled, a novel about celebrity, sex and baseball, was published in 2007 to exceptional reviews. He and Red Smith are the only writers with multiple features in The Best American Sports Writing of the Century. Editor David Halberstam selected Deford's 1981 Sports Illustrated profile on Bobby Knight (The Rabbit Hunter) and his 1985 SI profile of boxer Billy Conn (The Boxer and the Blonde) for that prestigious anthology. For Deford the comparison is meaningful. "Red Smith was the finest columnist, and I mean not just sports columnist," Deford told Powell's Books in 2007. "I've always said that Red is like Vermeer, with those tiny, priceless pieces. Five hundred words, perfectly chosen, crafted. Best literary columnist, in any newspaper, that I've ever seen." Deford was elected to the National Association of Sportscasters and Sportswriters Hall of Fame. Six times at Sports Illustrated Deford was voted by his peers as U.S. Sportswriter of The Year. The American Journalism Review has likewise cited him as the nation's finest sportswriter, and twice he was voted Magazine Writer of The Year by the Washington Journalism Review. Deford has also been presented with the National Magazine Award for profiles; a Christopher Award; and journalism honor awards from the University of Missouri and Northeastern University; and he has received many honorary degrees. The Sporting News has described Deford as "the most influential sports voice among members of the print media," and the magazine GQ has called him, simply, "The world's greatest sportswriter." In broadcast, Deford has won a Cable Ace award, an Emmy and a George Foster Peabody Award for his television work. In 2005 ESPN presented a television biography of Deford's life and work, You Write Better Than You Play. Deford has spoken at well over a hundred colleges, as well as at forums, conventions and on cruise ships around the world. He served as the editor-in-chief of The National Sports Daily in its brief but celebrated existence. Deford also wrote Sports Illustrated's first Point After column, in 1986. Two of Deford's books, the novel, Everybody's All-American, and Alex: The Life Of A Child, his memoir about his daughter who died of cystic fibrosis, have been made into movies. Two of his original screenplays have also been filmed. For 16 years Deford served as national chairman of the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation, and he remains chairman emeritus. He resides in Westport, CT, with his wife, Carol. They have two grown children – a son, Christian, and a daughter, Scarlet. A native of Baltimore, Deford is a graduate of Princeton University, where he has taught American Studies.