PACIFIC PALISADES – There was the time when Kevin Hall stepped up the ball on the first tee in a pro-am, and there was some loud talk and commotion in the gallery, and the marshals dutifully held up their “Quiet Please” signs.
Hall looked up.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I’m deaf.”
The marshall uncomfortably lowered the signs, as if they were afraid of disturbing someone else.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Hall said.
Then there was the time when the gallery knew Hall couldn’t hear and didn’t really react when a spectator’s cellphone went off. But Hall stopped himself in mid-swing. With all other senses heightened, he’d seen the fellow reach for the phone.
Kevin Hall, 34, is at the Genesis Open this week. He got the annual Charlie Sifford exemption, given to a minority player. In this case he qualified twice. He has been deaf since he was 2, thanks to the aftereffects of meningitis, and he is African-American.
The last time he was in Los Angeles, he won. He played in the Advocates Pro Tour event at Chester Washington Golf Club, on El Segundo Boulevard near the 110. It’s been there since 1953 and is officially located on Charles Sifford Drive, since Sifford played there repeatedly.
Hall broke the course record when he won that tournament. He shot a 61.
“Funny thing is, a guy came in that day with a 62 and tied the record,” said Frank Matthews, one of the club pros. “Then Kevin came in right after him.”
Hall had someone delivering sign language to him on Tuesday, as he does at most tournaments. He couldn’t stop smiling, which is understandable when you get a chance to play in the same event with Jordan Spieth and Jason Day. But the smile is also Hall’s default expression.
“Wherever we went in college, I always heard the same thing from other coaches and players,” said Jim Brown, the now-retired Ohio State golf coach. “Kevin was always their favorite guy to play with.”
Hall grew up in Cincinnati. His parents, Percy and Jackie, were with him Tuesday. They presented all sports to Kevin, and he first grabbed a club when he was 11.
“I was hooked,” he said. “But it wasn’t until I was 13 or 14 that I realized I might be able to do this for a living.’
Hall went to St. Rita’s School for the Deaf, but he was eligible to play on the golf team at Winton Woods High. He was soon the top junior golfer in the city. At Ohio State he won the 2004 Big Ten championship by 11 strokes. He still says that’s the best thing he’s done in golf.
Where was that Big Ten championship held, Coach Brown?
“The golf course they have at the school Up North,” Brown said, using the accepted Buckeye synonym for Michigan.
“But I also remember is that all the players from all the teams gave him an ovation when he got the trophy. I’ve never seen that before.’
It’s hard to imagine what a sensation Hall would have been, had he taken that run immediately onto the PGA Tour. Right now he’s been trying to lift himself out of the mini-tours. He’s playing on the SwingThought Tour as well as the Advocate Pro. But one magic week at Riviera could rearrange a lot of things.
“My goal is still to be on the PGA Tour,” he said. “Sometimes you don’t get there that quickly and you go one step at a time. One day, hopefully, I’ll get there.”
Since Hall doesn’t remember hearing anything, the silence isn’t a major handicap. There are a lot of sounds on a golf course that you don’t want to hear. Those of us who have heard the sickening splash or the annoying motorized cart or the triple ricochet of a ball against the trees can attest to that.
But great shots sound different, to the pros, than good shots. Hall never has known that sensation.
“He can feel it instead,” Percy Hall said. “The way he explains it, it’s like a sponge soaking up water. But what’s surprising to me is the way he can hit the shot and then immediately pick up where it’s going, without the sound.”
Hall wasn’t sure about this week until he got the invitation from the Genesis Open, delivered via email.
“I almost choked up,” he said. “I needed to drink some water.”
But how did Hall reply to Woods?
“It wasn’t him, it was the Tiger Woods Foundation,” he said, his smile enduring. “I’m not that famous yet.”
Contact the writer: mwhicker@scng.com
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