A Quest for My Own Claret Jug
LONG BEACH ISLAND, N.J. — Walk down Long Beach Boulevard during the day, and find a mustachioed man wielding a broom running laps back and forth from a shack bearing the sacred placard “Under 33 Club” to patches of artificial grass, enforcing picture-perfect edges and hairpin breaks.
He is Kirk Van Keuren and if miniature golf had a major championship, it would be played here, at Flamingo Golf, his hallowed course on the Jersey Shore. The winners would see their names enter into the “Under 33 Club,” their victory etched into the timelessness of this sleepy beach haven.
Van Keuren, 49, worked at Flamingo Golf as a high schooler and bought the course in 2000 from late founder Bill Burr. Just as legendary Augusta National has not changed in decades and mythical St. Andrews in centuries, Van Keuren has maintained the course’s look from the year of its founding, 1960.
“We’ve always kept it the same because we like what it is,” says Van Keuren, a math teacher in South Jersey. “We’ve never changed it because we look at each hole and we like what we see.”
The capricious sea breezes still send the long birdie putts begging on seven. The bowling pins still line the fairways on eight. The green on 17 still mischievously runs right to left.
At all hours the course takes another shape, encouraging a different break or speed.
On a summer’s morning, the greens are slick with dew and run slower as water collects on dimples of the ball. On a summer’s afternoon, the sun beats down upon the grounds as footpaths on the greens are downtrodden by lethargic beachgoers. On a summer’s night, the wind from Manahawkin Bay blows across the course east to the sea and the fairways run fast.
It’s the same majesty and history at Flamingo that keeps players coming back for serious golf outings — there are tournaments each Thursday — and family fun alike.
It’s the energy of Van Keuren and the late Burr that makes the “Under 33 Club” so elusive, putt-putt’s Claret Jug or Green Jacket.
Flamingo loyalist and television personality Ray Romano calls golf “tranquility and torture” at once. At no place is this more true than Flamingo. As children laugh and smile and bright pink balls with faces dot the landscape, the unattainable “Under 33 Club” seems nearly attainable.
But for a spot in that society, I will play on.
In early hours I’ll watch the night’s condensation seep on to the opaque pavement and hear the seagulls’ cries. I loosen up my arms and run-through ball striking.
In midday I’ll wipe the sweat of my brow on the brim of my cap as cars on the boulevard whiz by to my right. I take an aggressive approach on the front nine only to risk too much on the back nine.
And as the light fades I’ll kick back and play trick shots with my family, taking in the surroundings and thinking about the milkshake waiting for me at Woodies across the street. I am no longer in search of the milestone — 32 strokes, eight under par.
But as I total my scorecard and Van Keuren takes my club, I discover my lazy 18 on the front nine and indolent 15 on the back nine total 33.
Bill Burr never knew why he named the course Flamingo. I have an idea: such pretty birds always fly away.
July 23, 2012
