I was speaking with my Mom on the phone recently and she mentioned that she had just gotten her flu shot. I can understand why that makes sense, and as we’ve all been told: “an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure”. OK so, in a perfect world we would never catch a cold or pink eye and we’d never hit a slice. Well, until the Truman Show starts filming in my town, that perfect world doesn’t exist. You can bet that a good recovery strategy can save you from turning something bad, into something much, much worse.
I have been told (ad nauseum) that golf is a game of misses (hey! I am really god at that part!). The point is that although we all wish we did, we do not drive every green, avoid every bunker, and always stay out of the rough. So… what do we do when (not if) that happens? We strategize.
Just like in anything else, we can focus on a problem, speculate as to why it happened, beat ourselves up for whatever we did (or didn’t do), or get over it and think about the best solution. This is a HUGE issue for most golfers. What happens the minute a club head connects with a ball with the face wiiiiide open? Well you hear a booming “f” bomb of course, as that person watches his/her ball take a hard right into the rough/trees/water/other fairway/bunker/over a fence/onto the freeway. Sigh. Disheartening, indeed. However, all is not lost. It’s one shot... just one. So, depending upon how things turned out, there may be a penalty involved or there may be a hike into the wilderness involved but THIS is the moment that really matters. Phil Mickelson and (I mention this very begrudgingly) Tiger Woods are masters of getting out of precarious situations. Phil is in a position that any of us would look at and say… “ummm, I don’t have a shot.” Good old Phil flips his club over and hits righty... backwards! I do love that guy! Anyway, the point is, look at things with the mindset that a solution does exist, rather than being defeated after the T shot.
I’ve hit a few slices in my life which made me feel that a situation was hopeless. However when I looked at it with a different perspective and with the attitude that a solution did exist, I found one. The good news is that once we get through a trying situation, one in which we find ourselves having to break boundaries and move outside of our comfort zone you know what? We grow… as human beings and as golfers. Imagine that every time you landed in a bunker you immediately used the “hand wedge” and never even tried to hit the ball out. Where is the fun in that? Because once you grab your “S” guy and march yourself into that bunker with confidence and perhaps a sense of humor, you may just surprise yourself and make a “nice out”.
The game of golf would be no fun if every single shot we took was perfect. If we made every par, every birdie, every putt and holed out every chip, we would be bored. At that point we would decide that there is no point to the game, and move on to some other challenge. Let’s remember that we like the challenge and it feels fantastic to hit a great shot (or to get the job, make the sale, buy the house, or get the part) because of how big the challenge was in the first place.
Just because you think you have no shot, doesn’t mean you don’t. Smile… try something crazy... and watch as you make the craziest save of your life.
“Golf is the closest game to the game we call life. You get bad breaks from good shots; you get good breaks from bad shots - but you have to play the ball where it lies. “
- Bobby Jones
Play it where it lies… and laugh your ass off!
August 23, 2011
July 11, 2011
Sometimes you have to play solo
As a Catholic, I have spent a decent amount of time kneeling and saying The Rosary. We most often say The Rosary during times of mourning and hold a ceremony prior to the Funeral Mass actually called a Rosary. One day my uncle and I were talking about this whole thing and I sort of wondered aloud why we say The Rosary at someone’s funeral, although I assumed it was to bless their soul. On the contrary, however… my uncle explained that the recitation is for those in mourning, because there is great comfort to be found in the repetition of something familiar, and that totally made sense to me.
A couple of months ago, my sweetie, my caddy, found himself in a set of circumstances which eventually lead to him moving a few states away from me… yes, really. As the situation unfolded it was like the plot of a movie that you totally loved until the writers decided the movie needed some conflict. Well maybe it’s just me, but I’m pretty happy without conflict. So, after many sleepless nights and water hazards full of tears, my caddy was on his long drive, and this was one hell of a par 5.
Initially I couldn’t even look at my clubs without bawling my mascara off, nor could I drive past a golf course without feeling acid reflux. What is a girl to do without someone to double check her read before she putts? Sigh… you just have to replace the flag, grab your clubs and walk to the next tee box.
It took some time, but finally I just had to get back up on that tee. I went to the range, and as I walked that familiar walk, without my hand warmly enveloped by his, my heart ached and I felt like my bag had bricks in the bottom of it. I went upstairs so I could be as alone as possible, got my bucket and got ready to swing. The lump in my throat was the size of Gertie and with every swing I could hear my caddy’s voice in my head “you pulled it inside”, “better”, “swing easy”. Yep, it was KILLING me, and even recounting it now is bringing tightness to my chest. But I persevered: cleared my mind, and not worrying about where I hit, I just started swinging. Nice, easy strokes with a nice easy tempo… and in that space of repetition, fluidity of motion, without thinking about what I was doing or anything else… I found comfort (if only for that moment).
Amidst this discourse, I also began a new professional journey which I’m loving. This new situation has given me something to focus upon and a definite distraction from the feeling that I am a yin, sans yang. I couldn’t help but notice (ok and yes, feel that it is more than a tad unfair) that when one area of my life is going really well, another seems to tank. It’s like, why is it that when your drives are long and straight and your chips hit the middle of the green; you can’t sink a 6” putt? A winning streak doesn't last forever... but then neither does a losing.
Playing golf is much better with a caddy… it’s nice to have someone to have your back, to help make sure you don’t choose the wrong club or putt the wrong line, someone to carry your bag. Although it is reassuring to know that someone is watching where your ball landed, it isn’t impossible to do it alone. I am however, reassured by the fact that this situation will not last forever... does anything? So for now, I’m taking some lessons, learning some lessons and setting up my swing one shot at a time.
Golfer: "This golf is a funny game."
Caddy: "It's not supposed to be."
A couple of months ago, my sweetie, my caddy, found himself in a set of circumstances which eventually lead to him moving a few states away from me… yes, really. As the situation unfolded it was like the plot of a movie that you totally loved until the writers decided the movie needed some conflict. Well maybe it’s just me, but I’m pretty happy without conflict. So, after many sleepless nights and water hazards full of tears, my caddy was on his long drive, and this was one hell of a par 5.
Initially I couldn’t even look at my clubs without bawling my mascara off, nor could I drive past a golf course without feeling acid reflux. What is a girl to do without someone to double check her read before she putts? Sigh… you just have to replace the flag, grab your clubs and walk to the next tee box.
It took some time, but finally I just had to get back up on that tee. I went to the range, and as I walked that familiar walk, without my hand warmly enveloped by his, my heart ached and I felt like my bag had bricks in the bottom of it. I went upstairs so I could be as alone as possible, got my bucket and got ready to swing. The lump in my throat was the size of Gertie and with every swing I could hear my caddy’s voice in my head “you pulled it inside”, “better”, “swing easy”. Yep, it was KILLING me, and even recounting it now is bringing tightness to my chest. But I persevered: cleared my mind, and not worrying about where I hit, I just started swinging. Nice, easy strokes with a nice easy tempo… and in that space of repetition, fluidity of motion, without thinking about what I was doing or anything else… I found comfort (if only for that moment).
Amidst this discourse, I also began a new professional journey which I’m loving. This new situation has given me something to focus upon and a definite distraction from the feeling that I am a yin, sans yang. I couldn’t help but notice (ok and yes, feel that it is more than a tad unfair) that when one area of my life is going really well, another seems to tank. It’s like, why is it that when your drives are long and straight and your chips hit the middle of the green; you can’t sink a 6” putt? A winning streak doesn't last forever... but then neither does a losing.
Playing golf is much better with a caddy… it’s nice to have someone to have your back, to help make sure you don’t choose the wrong club or putt the wrong line, someone to carry your bag. Although it is reassuring to know that someone is watching where your ball landed, it isn’t impossible to do it alone. I am however, reassured by the fact that this situation will not last forever... does anything? So for now, I’m taking some lessons, learning some lessons and setting up my swing one shot at a time.
Golfer: "This golf is a funny game."
Caddy: "It's not supposed to be."
February 08, 2011
The finish line
I sometimes wonder if I suffer from Attention Deficit Disorder. When I begin something, I usually do so with a bit of zeal, gusto if you will, whether it's reading a new book, switching up my exercise routine, or sending out an RFP. Generally if I'm about to start something, I'm excited about whatever it is, have probably done some research and preparation and can't wait to get cracking. Vim and vigor is great and everything, but it doesn't always last. This is perhaps my biggest issue with my golf swing...
A couple of weeks ago my sweetie and I were at my little home 9 holer (yes, it really is fab to live somewhere where golf is a year round sport). As I'm sure I've stated I'm not a huge fan of the first tee because everyone within a square mile can see you tee off. Adding insult to injury, that day was the first time we had played in quite awhile so I was feeling more insecure than usual. Due to marker and pin placement, I pulled Mr. Hybrid out of the bag (yay, Callaway!). I did my thing and hit a good shot (ironically too far left since I was trying to over compensate for my slice tendency), Sweetie smashed his and off we went.
We were waiting on the second tee when two guys appeared and asked if they could join us. Ok, I love it when we get to play without another pair so I was a little annoyed, but primarily just ticked that these guys walked off the eighth green because they wanted to play another round but didn't start at one so they wouldn't have to pay. Bitter, party of 2 (Gertie was po'd as well). We were waiting for the group ahead to finish on the green and one of the guys says "you have a beautiful swing, where did you learn to play golf?" I looked proudly at my sweetie waiting for him to respond when... Omg... He was talking to me?!?! Yeah, me. Ok well chances are he knew I was less than pleased about the intrusion and was trying to butter me up (totally worked), but still. As the flush retreated from my face I set about the task of trying to play a decent round. I did all right, not my best, but not my worst… but the one thing I came away with that day was this: stop freaking out every time you start your backswing: it's fine! Instead work on finishing your damned swing!
I guess I'm half way there... I just have to see it through. It’s like not finishing a round so you can cheat your way into playing again… the hole you missed may have been your ace.
Sometimes we just have to lay up.
A couple of weeks ago my sweetie and I were at my little home 9 holer (yes, it really is fab to live somewhere where golf is a year round sport). As I'm sure I've stated I'm not a huge fan of the first tee because everyone within a square mile can see you tee off. Adding insult to injury, that day was the first time we had played in quite awhile so I was feeling more insecure than usual. Due to marker and pin placement, I pulled Mr. Hybrid out of the bag (yay, Callaway!). I did my thing and hit a good shot (ironically too far left since I was trying to over compensate for my slice tendency), Sweetie smashed his and off we went.
We were waiting on the second tee when two guys appeared and asked if they could join us. Ok, I love it when we get to play without another pair so I was a little annoyed, but primarily just ticked that these guys walked off the eighth green because they wanted to play another round but didn't start at one so they wouldn't have to pay. Bitter, party of 2 (Gertie was po'd as well). We were waiting for the group ahead to finish on the green and one of the guys says "you have a beautiful swing, where did you learn to play golf?" I looked proudly at my sweetie waiting for him to respond when... Omg... He was talking to me?!?! Yeah, me. Ok well chances are he knew I was less than pleased about the intrusion and was trying to butter me up (totally worked), but still. As the flush retreated from my face I set about the task of trying to play a decent round. I did all right, not my best, but not my worst… but the one thing I came away with that day was this: stop freaking out every time you start your backswing: it's fine! Instead work on finishing your damned swing!
I guess I'm half way there... I just have to see it through. It’s like not finishing a round so you can cheat your way into playing again… the hole you missed may have been your ace.
Sometimes we just have to lay up.
November 10, 2010
We are all just prisoners here...
There are situations in which I am pleasantly reminded that my job does not suck. Every year, the company I represent hosts a couple of company meetings: the sales meeting and the all company meeting. A few weeks ago we had our sales meeting, which is by far my favorite (side note: this happened to fall over the weekend of the Frys.com tournament, which was held about 30 minutes from my house… and… MY Rocco took the win! Seriously, I had to be out of town that weekend? Frick). As I was saying, the sales meeting was in Phoenix, at the Arizona Biltmore (a lovely property, book your meetings there, through me of course). I arrived a day early and hooked up with a couple of chums for 18 at the Biltmore. Phoenix was unseasonably warm for October and our afternoon round which started at 2pm, was sweltering… and I mean, freaking sweltering. I and my oh-so-fair skin were the color of a nicely reduced Bolognese, but I pulled up my big girl panties and dealt with it. Anyway, there I was, on this gorgeous course, with 2 of my fave peeps (one of whom is the travel hub since my sweetie couldn’t come, but more on that later), and I was determined to enjoy. Clearly Petey (that pink bast*&d) had other ideas. Really, Cobra? Really, that has draw basis? Oh, I seriously beg to differ… No, I didn’t play my best round ever. But I didn’t play my worst either. I was as embarrassing as anyone else and in reality, as long as you don’t slow play the peeps behind you, whatever.
Sadly, my sweetie was unable to join me on this trip, although sigs are invited to this one. The good news, however, is that my travel hub was on deck to not only carry my lip gloss and glass of whatever, but he also filled in as proxy caddie. I have to say, I was impressed with the TH, and although we got off to a slow start, he was totally with the program by our round the next morning! OMG… So, I had been on the east coast and had been home for 12 hours prior to departure for Phoenix. I landed, hooked up with the TH and off we went for an extremely sweaty 18. The coup de gras, of course, was the 7:35 tee time for the next morning. Now then, here’s where the BGG thing comes in to play. Yes, I was freaking exhausted… yes, I was still on east coast time… and yes, this was a leisure activity. But this is golf people so we pull on our fun socks and get to it. And I sure am glad I did!
This morning I hooked with the TH and our chum from the day before, but also another colleague and a CVB (Convention & Visitor’s Bureau) dude, and had another group of chums join us. Yes it was early and we all sucked down some caffeine, but it was a breathtaking morning. The air was still and warm, and all was quiet. Quiet that is, until we arrive at the Westin Kierland. We got to the course and I was undone at how gorgeous it was… however, that was nothing compared to the pre round warm up. Our host got us situated and directed us to the practice area so we could hit a few and work out the kinks. As we approached this area I was struck by how pretty everything was… and then… I noticed that amidst the peaceful morning there was... wait... is that music? Why yes, yes it was music… and not the kind of music you’d expect on the golf course (if there ever was such a thing)… but good old fashioned classic rock!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!? And it was cranking! I was in Heaven!! Hitting balls with the Eagles chilling me out! I have no words... it fricking rocked! However, that was kinda the end of it. Yes, I played… yes, I’ve played worse I suppose, but dammit I wanted Petey to show up!
You know what? I totally don’t care. That was a kick ass day, with kick ass peeps, and that is all I really need to remember!
In reality, it’s all about the pink champagne on ice…
Sadly, my sweetie was unable to join me on this trip, although sigs are invited to this one. The good news, however, is that my travel hub was on deck to not only carry my lip gloss and glass of whatever, but he also filled in as proxy caddie. I have to say, I was impressed with the TH, and although we got off to a slow start, he was totally with the program by our round the next morning! OMG… So, I had been on the east coast and had been home for 12 hours prior to departure for Phoenix. I landed, hooked up with the TH and off we went for an extremely sweaty 18. The coup de gras, of course, was the 7:35 tee time for the next morning. Now then, here’s where the BGG thing comes in to play. Yes, I was freaking exhausted… yes, I was still on east coast time… and yes, this was a leisure activity. But this is golf people so we pull on our fun socks and get to it. And I sure am glad I did!
This morning I hooked with the TH and our chum from the day before, but also another colleague and a CVB (Convention & Visitor’s Bureau) dude, and had another group of chums join us. Yes it was early and we all sucked down some caffeine, but it was a breathtaking morning. The air was still and warm, and all was quiet. Quiet that is, until we arrive at the Westin Kierland. We got to the course and I was undone at how gorgeous it was… however, that was nothing compared to the pre round warm up. Our host got us situated and directed us to the practice area so we could hit a few and work out the kinks. As we approached this area I was struck by how pretty everything was… and then… I noticed that amidst the peaceful morning there was... wait... is that music? Why yes, yes it was music… and not the kind of music you’d expect on the golf course (if there ever was such a thing)… but good old fashioned classic rock!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!? And it was cranking! I was in Heaven!! Hitting balls with the Eagles chilling me out! I have no words... it fricking rocked! However, that was kinda the end of it. Yes, I played… yes, I’ve played worse I suppose, but dammit I wanted Petey to show up!
You know what? I totally don’t care. That was a kick ass day, with kick ass peeps, and that is all I really need to remember!
In reality, it’s all about the pink champagne on ice…
October 19, 2010
Match made in Heaven... or the other place?
A good partner can bring out the best in us. When a man and a woman are well suited, for example, they will balance out the strengths and weaknesses of each other, and this symbiosis will provide positive results. However, if the two are at each others throats all day long, failure is guaranteed. The question is: how do we determine who to settle down with for the most successful and harmonious life?
In love, we usually choose our partners based upon initial attraction, followed by commonalities, and add compatibility. Of course, there are the “checklists” we all have (whether we admit it or not). At some point we decide that a candidate is “the one” and settle in, in some form or fashion.
Choosing the right life partner will make the difference between happiness and sorrow, just as choosing the right clubs can make the difference between celebrating in the 19th hole, and drowning ones sorrows (that may overstate the situation a bit but, you get it).
Lately, my driver has been the bane of my existence. I totally own that I don’t hit it well, however I had also not been fitted for a driver and I don’t think that was helping. Sooooo…. I finally bit the bullet, got down on one knee (no, not really) and asked Petey2, to be mine. He accepted, I plunked down the necessary dough, and brought home my newest bundle of joy. Now then… getting fitted for clubs is pretty cool, if you make sure to do this at a PGA certified location. The ball is teed up in front of this camera thing and you smack the ball into the net. The computer determines everything about the shot based upon several factors, including where the ball and club head connected, and how fast the club head was travelling at that moment… it is tres cool.
I decided to find my new Petey because I just couldn’t take my horrendous slicing and thought that a club with draw bias would help. However, the day before I was fitted I made a swing correction which apparently helped the situation, because the camera-computer-thingy was reporting that my shots were relatively straight. Hmmm… interesting. Regardless, I decided upon the Cobra S2 offset and promised to have and to hold from that day forward.
I hit the range a good bit immediately following the acquisition, understanding that we needed to get to know each other a little better and I did well. We went on our maiden voyage together to Phoenix and I was total big girl golfer! I borrowed my sweetie’s travel bag and when I checked into the hotel the Bel guy asked if I would “…like for him to store my clubs.” It was total big girl and I was all stupidly excited, but I mean… a girl’s gotta have something to be excited about and if it’s silly and small, well whatever. Who cares? All I knew was that I was one step closer to really being “golf chick” and Petey, my new partner in crime, was gonna help me get there. All I had to do then was tee it up and wait for the magic to happen… right?
Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match…
In love, we usually choose our partners based upon initial attraction, followed by commonalities, and add compatibility. Of course, there are the “checklists” we all have (whether we admit it or not). At some point we decide that a candidate is “the one” and settle in, in some form or fashion.
Choosing the right life partner will make the difference between happiness and sorrow, just as choosing the right clubs can make the difference between celebrating in the 19th hole, and drowning ones sorrows (that may overstate the situation a bit but, you get it).
Lately, my driver has been the bane of my existence. I totally own that I don’t hit it well, however I had also not been fitted for a driver and I don’t think that was helping. Sooooo…. I finally bit the bullet, got down on one knee (no, not really) and asked Petey2, to be mine. He accepted, I plunked down the necessary dough, and brought home my newest bundle of joy. Now then… getting fitted for clubs is pretty cool, if you make sure to do this at a PGA certified location. The ball is teed up in front of this camera thing and you smack the ball into the net. The computer determines everything about the shot based upon several factors, including where the ball and club head connected, and how fast the club head was travelling at that moment… it is tres cool.
I decided to find my new Petey because I just couldn’t take my horrendous slicing and thought that a club with draw bias would help. However, the day before I was fitted I made a swing correction which apparently helped the situation, because the camera-computer-thingy was reporting that my shots were relatively straight. Hmmm… interesting. Regardless, I decided upon the Cobra S2 offset and promised to have and to hold from that day forward.
I hit the range a good bit immediately following the acquisition, understanding that we needed to get to know each other a little better and I did well. We went on our maiden voyage together to Phoenix and I was total big girl golfer! I borrowed my sweetie’s travel bag and when I checked into the hotel the Bel guy asked if I would “…like for him to store my clubs.” It was total big girl and I was all stupidly excited, but I mean… a girl’s gotta have something to be excited about and if it’s silly and small, well whatever. Who cares? All I knew was that I was one step closer to really being “golf chick” and Petey, my new partner in crime, was gonna help me get there. All I had to do then was tee it up and wait for the magic to happen… right?
Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match…
September 21, 2010
Joie de Golf
I guess it's a pretty basic principle that good begets good, but sometimes it gets really difficult to stay positive about your golf game. I sort of liken it to dieting... when we're doing really well we can't wait to jump out of bed and run to the scale, watching with baited breath for some magic number to appear (kinda like playing the slots, ya know?). However, that same person who wakes up half an hour early just to prance about the bathroom celebrating his/her weight may do anything to avoid the scale the day after Thanksgiving, if you know what I mean. That is the critical moment... by avoiding the scale, the person refuses to face the negative, however the only way to overcome it is to face it, accept it, and correct it.
I've been in a bit of a golf funk lately, which has really been bumming me out. When I first started playing, I saw slow but steady progress, and then one day... I came down with a case of the "righties". Although this ailment does seem to come and go, I've had quite the relapse, and am worried it might cause permanent damage. Sigh... never has something plagued the masses the way the righties does. It is of absolutely no consolation to me that this is a fairly common issue: I don't care... I totally hate it... it makes me swear WAY too much in public... and the worst part... it's killing my golf buzz. I really only suffer this malady with my driver and 3-wood, so "I got that goin' for me, which is nice". Eh ehmm... really? So I have to slice every freaking T-shot? Why yes, yes I do. Needless to say, my usual enthusiastic attitude about an upcoming round has become lackluster.
Now then... how does one overcome such a horrendous state of affairs? Well, let me tell ya: you get your sweet heiny out to that range and practice buster (or busterette?)! So that's what I've been doing. Oh and I have also budgeted for a new driver... I seriously can't take it anymore. I need to have the "it's not ME, it's YOU" conversation with Petey. However, I cannot do that until he has been replaced, so I decided to see what offerings were available and took a couple of prospects out for a spin (it's not technically cheating, because I didn't actually play a round, just hit some balls.. sheesh!). I decided on 2 possible Petey's which seemed to offer what I need (not the least of which is major draw bias, sigh) and proceeded to the range. The club I assumed would be "the one" was the Cobra S2 Offset. I liked the club, and I'm not sure if I just didn't have my groove going yet (pffft! as if I had a groove, Ha!), but it just didn't seem to do anything for me. I could use the money to buy a cute new outfit and keep on slicing with Petey for all the improvement I saw. Until... I picked up the Taylor Made R9. I only had a few balls left, but something about that club just felt so strong, comfortable and sturdy in my hand I loved it. The best news was, I smashed the ball! (I would never refer to range balls as Gertie, because of course they are not pink... doi). Yay! OK, it may or may not have had the slightest of slices, but it was a vast improvement, and I had sort of given up hope. I plan to take both on date #2 tomorrow afternoon, but of course cannot "seal the deal" until our third date.
Honestly, the new club may or may not have any real impact on my game, although I am looking forward to some better distance off the tee. However, what I do know will impact my game, is practice, practice, practice, just like anything else. Golf is not an easy sport; if it were would we all be dreaming about that "one shot"? Nope... we wouldn't care at all.
Viva la golf et laissez les bons temps rouler! (in other words, bring it!)
I've been in a bit of a golf funk lately, which has really been bumming me out. When I first started playing, I saw slow but steady progress, and then one day... I came down with a case of the "righties". Although this ailment does seem to come and go, I've had quite the relapse, and am worried it might cause permanent damage. Sigh... never has something plagued the masses the way the righties does. It is of absolutely no consolation to me that this is a fairly common issue: I don't care... I totally hate it... it makes me swear WAY too much in public... and the worst part... it's killing my golf buzz. I really only suffer this malady with my driver and 3-wood, so "I got that goin' for me, which is nice". Eh ehmm... really? So I have to slice every freaking T-shot? Why yes, yes I do. Needless to say, my usual enthusiastic attitude about an upcoming round has become lackluster.
Now then... how does one overcome such a horrendous state of affairs? Well, let me tell ya: you get your sweet heiny out to that range and practice buster (or busterette?)! So that's what I've been doing. Oh and I have also budgeted for a new driver... I seriously can't take it anymore. I need to have the "it's not ME, it's YOU" conversation with Petey. However, I cannot do that until he has been replaced, so I decided to see what offerings were available and took a couple of prospects out for a spin (it's not technically cheating, because I didn't actually play a round, just hit some balls.. sheesh!). I decided on 2 possible Petey's which seemed to offer what I need (not the least of which is major draw bias, sigh) and proceeded to the range. The club I assumed would be "the one" was the Cobra S2 Offset. I liked the club, and I'm not sure if I just didn't have my groove going yet (pffft! as if I had a groove, Ha!), but it just didn't seem to do anything for me. I could use the money to buy a cute new outfit and keep on slicing with Petey for all the improvement I saw. Until... I picked up the Taylor Made R9. I only had a few balls left, but something about that club just felt so strong, comfortable and sturdy in my hand I loved it. The best news was, I smashed the ball! (I would never refer to range balls as Gertie, because of course they are not pink... doi). Yay! OK, it may or may not have had the slightest of slices, but it was a vast improvement, and I had sort of given up hope. I plan to take both on date #2 tomorrow afternoon, but of course cannot "seal the deal" until our third date.
Honestly, the new club may or may not have any real impact on my game, although I am looking forward to some better distance off the tee. However, what I do know will impact my game, is practice, practice, practice, just like anything else. Golf is not an easy sport; if it were would we all be dreaming about that "one shot"? Nope... we wouldn't care at all.
Viva la golf et laissez les bons temps rouler! (in other words, bring it!)
September 03, 2010
Be a Viking!
My grandfather is 100% Danish, but born in San Francisco. He was big and strong, just the way your hero should be. Sometimes we would point out a nasty scratch he had from trimming his rosebushes and ask him if it hurt... his response was always the same "of course not, I'm a Viking!". It's kind of a joke within my family and if I have to "suck it up", I say "eh, I can do it, I'm a Viking!". Apparently, golf brings out the Viking (or honorary Viking) in many people.
My sweetie's dad has no Norwegian in him at all, yet I would say he is welcome as an honorary member. (Today is his birthday as a matter of fact, Happy Birthday Wuuuudy!!). He plays golf 6 days per week... which would be 7 if his course was open all 7 days. He has had some issues with his ankle and although it would be swollen and I know it was killing him, he still tees it up every day. He did eventually have surgery to correct the problem, but the no-golf recovery time was not easy. I totally get that... I mean, how can you just not play golf? A few weeks ago, my right hip started really hurting. I ignored it, assumed that it would just get better, and continued playing. However, my sweetie and I played one round when I had really warmed up and I played well that day, with minimal pain, but the round 2 days later day was a completely different story. I was absolutely miserable and totally did the Viking thing, but trying to get my body through was just not working and my swing was greatly affected.
I decided that this wasn't getting better and in fact was getting so bad I couldn't sit at my desk to work, so I finally got in to see the doc. Of course I shall live, but the pinched nerve in my hip required a cortisone shot, and back brace (kind like the UPS guys wear) and a steroid scrip. OK, this all well and good, no big deal, he said it should be 7-10 days-ish... so the burning question I had was: "so, do I wear the brace when I play golf?". The doc put his head in his hands, whilst shaking it and said "I am so not answering that question". Damn.. so, what do I do? OK, then tech dude comes in to fit me for my new fashion accessory and I pose the same question to him. He tells me that he was wearing one whilst playing golf one time and that it totally forced his body to get through completely and his righties were gone! Wooho!! Guess what I'm wearing even when my nerve thing is all better?!?!
Now then, the thing has actually hurt so much that I haven't played for the past week, however tomorrow is a new day. My sweetie and I are heading out of town to visit my bestie and play a round with her hubby (recent back surgery recovery by the way). We shall see how this works out, but my hope is that with the brace thing, Petey won't send Gertie slicing through the air... fingers crossed for dead ass straight!
Don't be a baby, Duncan!
My sweetie's dad has no Norwegian in him at all, yet I would say he is welcome as an honorary member. (Today is his birthday as a matter of fact, Happy Birthday Wuuuudy!!). He plays golf 6 days per week... which would be 7 if his course was open all 7 days. He has had some issues with his ankle and although it would be swollen and I know it was killing him, he still tees it up every day. He did eventually have surgery to correct the problem, but the no-golf recovery time was not easy. I totally get that... I mean, how can you just not play golf? A few weeks ago, my right hip started really hurting. I ignored it, assumed that it would just get better, and continued playing. However, my sweetie and I played one round when I had really warmed up and I played well that day, with minimal pain, but the round 2 days later day was a completely different story. I was absolutely miserable and totally did the Viking thing, but trying to get my body through was just not working and my swing was greatly affected.
I decided that this wasn't getting better and in fact was getting so bad I couldn't sit at my desk to work, so I finally got in to see the doc. Of course I shall live, but the pinched nerve in my hip required a cortisone shot, and back brace (kind like the UPS guys wear) and a steroid scrip. OK, this all well and good, no big deal, he said it should be 7-10 days-ish... so the burning question I had was: "so, do I wear the brace when I play golf?". The doc put his head in his hands, whilst shaking it and said "I am so not answering that question". Damn.. so, what do I do? OK, then tech dude comes in to fit me for my new fashion accessory and I pose the same question to him. He tells me that he was wearing one whilst playing golf one time and that it totally forced his body to get through completely and his righties were gone! Wooho!! Guess what I'm wearing even when my nerve thing is all better?!?!
Now then, the thing has actually hurt so much that I haven't played for the past week, however tomorrow is a new day. My sweetie and I are heading out of town to visit my bestie and play a round with her hubby (recent back surgery recovery by the way). We shall see how this works out, but my hope is that with the brace thing, Petey won't send Gertie slicing through the air... fingers crossed for dead ass straight!
Don't be a baby, Duncan!
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