Golf course tees up originality

Unlike the lengthy courses that are seemingly designed to appeal to the nation’s
minuscule percentage of scratch golfers, Chemawa is dedicated to the proposition
that the game should deliver a satisfying experience to the vast majority of
average players who will never come within shouting distance of the 70s or even
the 80s.

That’s the philosophy that drives Glen Bourque, Chemawa’s 36-year-old owner,
who presides over an immaculately maintained venue that offers a reasonable
challenge to golfers of all levels.

At 5,267 yards, Chemawa isn’t in the same class as the lush tracks that extend
into the upper 6,000, lower 7,000-yard category. But as Bourque points out,
it’s not an executive layout, either. You have to earn your pars.

Chemawa, in fact, could be a template for the golf course of the future –
one that appeals to a growing demographic: older men who have lost a few yards
off the tee and women of all ages who want to go out there and enjoy a reasonable
crack at par.

But the negotiable holes and the watermelon runs aren’t the only features
that make Chemawa special. The place is chock-full of gracious touches, from
the 1,000 flowers that Bourque’s staff plants around the course every spring
to the free-standing stone structures, one on each nine, that house on-course
restroom facilities. There’s also the clubhouse kitchen, which prepares lunches
and breakfasts for early arrivals.

Since he took the management reins from his father, Raymond, back in the early
1990s, Glen Bourque has devoted himself to making Chemawa a little gem of a
recreation spot.

Underpinning his approach is a conclusion drawn by The Wall Street Journal
in a recent feature titled, “Winning Back the Frustrated Golfer.” Today’s golfer
– or in many cases, former golfer – has been turned off by three parallel developments:
the game has become too difficult, too time-consuming and too expensive. According
to the WSJ, those drawbacks contribute to a disturbing statistic: 3 million
of the nation’s 26 million adult golfers give up the game each year.

Chemawa avoids those three bugaboos by offering a venue that’s neither too
difficult nor too expensive. (A round complete with golf cart costs $38 for
an adult during the week, $44 on the weekend.) As for time consumption, Chemawa
has neither excessive rough nor fairway-hugging woodlands to capture errant
shots. The golfer may flub a five iron, but he or she won’t have to spend precious
minutes looking for the ball while the following foursome grinds its collective
teeth.

When Glen Bourque graduated from Hartwick College in upstate New York, he
intended to enter a seminary and become a priest. That plan went aglimmering
when he met the woman he would later marry.

Instead, he began working with his dad, a South Attleboro scrap metal dealer
who, with a partner, had bought the nine-hole course from George England in
1971.

In time, Glen furthered his education – not in seminary, but at Rutgers University
in New Jersey, where he studied golf course management.

In 1994, three years after Glen took over, Chemawa expanded from nine to 18
holes. Four of the new holes, located across Cushman Road from the original
course, were laid out by Goshen, N.Y., golf architect Steve Esposito.

Bourque readily admits that he’s not afraid to be derivative if it will make
Chemawa better.

“I get a lot of ideas from places like Disney World and Myrtle Beach,” he
said.

His marketing instincts seem well honed. When golfers stayed away in droves
on Mother’s Day, for example, he adopted a Mother’s Day special: Moms played
free. Scores of grateful golf nuts dragged their moms and mothers-in-law out
to Chemawa to take advantage of an offer that gave them an extra day on the
links while keeping them in good standing with their families.

Today, Chemawa (the word is Native American for ‘this old farm’) is booming.
Leagues play just about every day – from women and seniors to a group of North
Attleboro town employees.

Regulars have to get used to the fact that Bourque will ban carts from use
on days when the course is even marginally wet. Even the most die-hard hacker
understands that golf carts rip up the soft turf.

As the summer meanders on, Bourque and his groundskeepers will continue to
fuss over the little things.

“It’s attention to detail that makes things that much better,” Bourque said.