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…
November 10, 2010
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!
August 18, 2010
Bunker Shmunker
Are you kidding me with that call at the PGA Championship? The 2 stroke penalty Dustin Johnson was handed stings like being smacked in the head with a flying golf ball. Ouch. Initially I was disgusted and angry, not caring about the playoff. However, that's not nice and the young'un from Germany deserves some props. After watching that round, and reflecting back on previous close calls, all I can say is "I sure am glad I don't play golf for a living!" Whew! Well it's not like the LPGA is knocking down my door or anything...
Things have been a little hairy for me lately, and golf has taken a slight backseat (just temporarily acourse). However, at some point last week I texted my sweetie and said "I want to play 18 on Saturday, find somewhere fab and book it Dan-O"... so he did. Summitpointe Golf Club is some kinda fabulous! The best news of the day was that the greens fees included a cart so I mean, we couldn't just leave it there :). However, the mere thought of luggin' at this course is exhausting because the hills require billy goat skill to traverse. Anyway, we had a cart, so my caddy chauffeured all day and I just got to swing. And swing I did... I will not share what I scored, however I actually played pretty darned well! I decided that although Petey (my driver) has been letting me down and I decided a trial separation was in order, I am willing to try and work things out... at least temporarily (I am TOTALLY buying a new driver as soon as humanly possible.. shhh, don't tell Petey!) I think that perhaps absence made our hearts grow fonder because I used him on all but 3 holes to T off and he did not let me down! Granted I may have let him down a tad.. I had the worst "righties", but I'll own that one. There we were on the gorgeous first T.. a warm and breezeless summer day surrounded the lovely and picturesque holes. I stepped up, had a little chat with Petey and smacked Gertie like she's not been smacked before. I heard the sound of the club and ball connecting, I got my hips through and finished my swing. It was the best shot I've ever hit with Petey.. eh ehmm.. ok so apparently I came through a bit open because after the initial lovely launch, Gertie made a hard right and flew into the crazy OB rough. Oh and it was on the other side of a fence so she was toast. Honestly, I didn't get upset because although the shot didn't achieve what I'd hoped for, it felt great! So, Gertie the second hit the tee and I smacked her... exactly the same as #1. Sigh, it's gonna be a loooong day.
It actually was a long day, a bit more than 5 hours to play that round but it was so darned fun that we didn't mind at all. And, I did start to work out the righties thing which helped and I made my first official bogie on a par 5. So I've got that goin' for me...
We were tired and looked forward to relaxing and watching the highlights from the Saturday round in Wisconsin. I caught a glimpse of the leader board and saw that my guy Dustin Johnson was a few down from the top, but not as low as "some people".. eh ehm (you know who I am talking about). Anyway, I told my sweetie that I predicted DJ would come from behind and win. I actually bet him a dollar and we shook... On Sunday we headed out to play a quick 9 so we missed a fair amount of the final round. As soon as we got home we turned it on and guess who was coming to play? Oh yeah.. DJ! I was excited and my sweetie has decided that I should pick his fantasy line up this year. However, DJ missed "the putt" and now was headed for playoff round... until: "wait, that was a bunker?" I have no words. I think I blacked out for a while because I don't really remember much after that... except, poor DJ's interview. I have a huge amount of respect for him The man is quite a gentlemen, and for his sake, let's all hope that nice guys don't really finish last.
Where's the beverage cart?
Things have been a little hairy for me lately, and golf has taken a slight backseat (just temporarily acourse). However, at some point last week I texted my sweetie and said "I want to play 18 on Saturday, find somewhere fab and book it Dan-O"... so he did. Summitpointe Golf Club is some kinda fabulous! The best news of the day was that the greens fees included a cart so I mean, we couldn't just leave it there :). However, the mere thought of luggin' at this course is exhausting because the hills require billy goat skill to traverse. Anyway, we had a cart, so my caddy chauffeured all day and I just got to swing. And swing I did... I will not share what I scored, however I actually played pretty darned well! I decided that although Petey (my driver) has been letting me down and I decided a trial separation was in order, I am willing to try and work things out... at least temporarily (I am TOTALLY buying a new driver as soon as humanly possible.. shhh, don't tell Petey!) I think that perhaps absence made our hearts grow fonder because I used him on all but 3 holes to T off and he did not let me down! Granted I may have let him down a tad.. I had the worst "righties", but I'll own that one. There we were on the gorgeous first T.. a warm and breezeless summer day surrounded the lovely and picturesque holes. I stepped up, had a little chat with Petey and smacked Gertie like she's not been smacked before. I heard the sound of the club and ball connecting, I got my hips through and finished my swing. It was the best shot I've ever hit with Petey.. eh ehmm.. ok so apparently I came through a bit open because after the initial lovely launch, Gertie made a hard right and flew into the crazy OB rough. Oh and it was on the other side of a fence so she was toast. Honestly, I didn't get upset because although the shot didn't achieve what I'd hoped for, it felt great! So, Gertie the second hit the tee and I smacked her... exactly the same as #1. Sigh, it's gonna be a loooong day.
It actually was a long day, a bit more than 5 hours to play that round but it was so darned fun that we didn't mind at all. And, I did start to work out the righties thing which helped and I made my first official bogie on a par 5. So I've got that goin' for me...
We were tired and looked forward to relaxing and watching the highlights from the Saturday round in Wisconsin. I caught a glimpse of the leader board and saw that my guy Dustin Johnson was a few down from the top, but not as low as "some people".. eh ehm (you know who I am talking about). Anyway, I told my sweetie that I predicted DJ would come from behind and win. I actually bet him a dollar and we shook... On Sunday we headed out to play a quick 9 so we missed a fair amount of the final round. As soon as we got home we turned it on and guess who was coming to play? Oh yeah.. DJ! I was excited and my sweetie has decided that I should pick his fantasy line up this year. However, DJ missed "the putt" and now was headed for playoff round... until: "wait, that was a bunker?" I have no words. I think I blacked out for a while because I don't really remember much after that... except, poor DJ's interview. I have a huge amount of respect for him The man is quite a gentlemen, and for his sake, let's all hope that nice guys don't really finish last.
Where's the beverage cart?
August 03, 2010
Radio Silence
My mom always told me: "if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all" and that is exactly why I've been at a loss to come up with something to say about my golf game for the past couple of weeks... sigh. The thing is, my sweetie was gone for about 2 weeks and I didn't play whilst he was away... oh... he was out of town... playing golf... every day. Did I mention that? Bitter, party of one. Anyway, so since he was gone I didn't play, although I would normally at least have gone to the driving range, but I only did that once. Adding insult to injury during this time, I had the brainy idea to quit smoking. Yeah, I know it's the right thing to do, which is why I did it, but ummm... the process isn't really enjoyable. So, my sweetie was gone, I was in withdrawl hell, and work was stressing me out to no end. Fun stuff. It was actually a good thing that I hadn't played golf during this time, because if you want to see a physical manifestation of what's going on in your nugget, play a round when your world is in shambles... your game will be too.
Hitting balls is usually a totally peaceful place for me, so last week I was feeling really crappy and decided to go hit a bucket. That was quite a mistake. There was nothing peaceful about this little escapade as I hit one crappy shot after another. Each shot was indicative of how I was feeling inside and it just reinforced it. The thing is, I am usually a really positive person. Of course situations bum me out, or I get stressed about things, but negative feelings don't usually last very long, I don't really have the patience for it. So after this round of hitting, I felt even worse than I had when I arrived. (I have learned that nicotine stimulates the sensors which release dopamine, the feel good hormone, so until the receptors fully detox, this explains the funky factor). The following week, my sweetie came home and a golf pal called me for an impromptu round. I met her at the course, and we went for it. OMG. Who the hell was that impostor carrying around my golf bag? I have no idea, but I assure you, the chick swinging my clubs did not resemble me in the least... even poor Gertie had furrowed brow in confusion. I was utterly horrified. Also, this was the first round I've played without lighting up, and I was just really out of sorts. Coincidentally, my sweetie was coming down that afternoon, so he met me at the course and I played round #2 with him. I thought, OK, I'm loose, I should be in good shape. Uh no. I didn't think it was possible, but I played even worse than round 1. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! My sweetie said "you don't look much like my sweetie today"... that is how crappily (adverb, no?) I played. I was seriously freaking out... Please dopamine receptor thingies, please start working again!
Sadly, my week actually went downhill from there. However I persevered and slapped a smile on my face determined to get through it. We played on Friday night... I played like crap. We played on Saturday... I played like crap. I asked my sweetie if he noticed a particular flaw and he said that I was sort of lifting up a bit during my back swing. Of course with the stress factor my shoulder and neck are totally jacked up with knots, and I realized that my range of motion was not what it usually is. So, I stretched out and focused on the swivel.
Sunday afternoon, I started to feel like my old self again. I suggested that we go play a round and of course my sweetie agreed, but I imagine that inside he was praying that I would play well :). So we get out to my itty course and we were paired with another couple. My sweetie and I as well as the man from the other pair teed off. Oh thank God! I hit a nice shot with Mr. Callaway (21 deg. hybrid) and breathed a sigh of relief. I assumed then that the other chick would tee off but she said she was playing from the reds so she started walking. I was like: "are you freaking kidding me?!"... the reds at this course are actually junior t's.. for like 4 year olds or brand new, freshly baked golfers. If it's the first round of golf you've ever played in your life and you're a chick, then by all means play from the reds, but this chick has been playing for like 15 years. Now then, to make matters worse, a: before I teed off the dude asked me if I was going to play from the reds, and b: the chick said that she was trying to beat her personal best of 36 (grrr, 36!), however apparently this best score was the result of her playing from the reds. You know, fine.. whatever.. I don't honestly care what you do on the course (as long as you follow etiquette of course).. but this chick kept going on and on about how she needs to beat her PB and after hitting from these forward tees, IF she landed on the green (if!! really?!?!), she would be rather boastful about "being up for birdie". Annoyed doesn't really begin to describe it. And then.. this chick proceeded to totally chunk-a-lunk for most of the round, although she was way less annoying once she realized she wasn't putting Annika Sorenstam to shame. Anyway, I slowly got over my annoyance with this chick when I realized that she was feeling insecure. Imagine, she's been playing for 7 (or more) times longer than me... and her PB was 36 from the reds. Eh... poor kid. She just needs to shuddup and get over it.
The point is... stop yammering and play golf!
Drag it back. Big arch. Finish your swing.
Hitting balls is usually a totally peaceful place for me, so last week I was feeling really crappy and decided to go hit a bucket. That was quite a mistake. There was nothing peaceful about this little escapade as I hit one crappy shot after another. Each shot was indicative of how I was feeling inside and it just reinforced it. The thing is, I am usually a really positive person. Of course situations bum me out, or I get stressed about things, but negative feelings don't usually last very long, I don't really have the patience for it. So after this round of hitting, I felt even worse than I had when I arrived. (I have learned that nicotine stimulates the sensors which release dopamine, the feel good hormone, so until the receptors fully detox, this explains the funky factor). The following week, my sweetie came home and a golf pal called me for an impromptu round. I met her at the course, and we went for it. OMG. Who the hell was that impostor carrying around my golf bag? I have no idea, but I assure you, the chick swinging my clubs did not resemble me in the least... even poor Gertie had furrowed brow in confusion. I was utterly horrified. Also, this was the first round I've played without lighting up, and I was just really out of sorts. Coincidentally, my sweetie was coming down that afternoon, so he met me at the course and I played round #2 with him. I thought, OK, I'm loose, I should be in good shape. Uh no. I didn't think it was possible, but I played even worse than round 1. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! My sweetie said "you don't look much like my sweetie today"... that is how crappily (adverb, no?) I played. I was seriously freaking out... Please dopamine receptor thingies, please start working again!
Sadly, my week actually went downhill from there. However I persevered and slapped a smile on my face determined to get through it. We played on Friday night... I played like crap. We played on Saturday... I played like crap. I asked my sweetie if he noticed a particular flaw and he said that I was sort of lifting up a bit during my back swing. Of course with the stress factor my shoulder and neck are totally jacked up with knots, and I realized that my range of motion was not what it usually is. So, I stretched out and focused on the swivel.
Sunday afternoon, I started to feel like my old self again. I suggested that we go play a round and of course my sweetie agreed, but I imagine that inside he was praying that I would play well :). So we get out to my itty course and we were paired with another couple. My sweetie and I as well as the man from the other pair teed off. Oh thank God! I hit a nice shot with Mr. Callaway (21 deg. hybrid) and breathed a sigh of relief. I assumed then that the other chick would tee off but she said she was playing from the reds so she started walking. I was like: "are you freaking kidding me?!"... the reds at this course are actually junior t's.. for like 4 year olds or brand new, freshly baked golfers. If it's the first round of golf you've ever played in your life and you're a chick, then by all means play from the reds, but this chick has been playing for like 15 years. Now then, to make matters worse, a: before I teed off the dude asked me if I was going to play from the reds, and b: the chick said that she was trying to beat her personal best of 36 (grrr, 36!), however apparently this best score was the result of her playing from the reds. You know, fine.. whatever.. I don't honestly care what you do on the course (as long as you follow etiquette of course).. but this chick kept going on and on about how she needs to beat her PB and after hitting from these forward tees, IF she landed on the green (if!! really?!?!), she would be rather boastful about "being up for birdie". Annoyed doesn't really begin to describe it. And then.. this chick proceeded to totally chunk-a-lunk for most of the round, although she was way less annoying once she realized she wasn't putting Annika Sorenstam to shame. Anyway, I slowly got over my annoyance with this chick when I realized that she was feeling insecure. Imagine, she's been playing for 7 (or more) times longer than me... and her PB was 36 from the reds. Eh... poor kid. She just needs to shuddup and get over it.
The point is... stop yammering and play golf!
Drag it back. Big arch. Finish your swing.
July 13, 2010
The Line-up
The Golf Channel has become a regular part of my television experience. They offer tournament coverage, tips and tricks, and everything in between. Although I'm not a fan of the television being on as a source of white noise, there is nothing quite like the hushed sounds of a tournament to help me relax.
Of course watching tournaments is great; however there are a few shows that really do it for me. Number one on my list is "The Golf Fix". Michael Breed is my hero, with his high energy and tips and drills to help us with everything from swing flaws to overcoming mental barriers. I totally love this guy. Last night, using his trusty simulator he demonstrated how to successfully get out (in one) of the crazy bunkers at St. Andrews. Although I have no immediate plans to disgrace the Royal and Ancient Golf Club with my divots, that is some really helpful info! The technique Breed used in the simulation is something I am certain to put to good use in the near future (I really need to work on my bunker shots). But that's just the beginning. The Golf Fix takes videos sent in from viewers, analyzes their swings, and then provides corrections. Here's what I totally love about that: almost every flaw I have watched Michael offer corrections to, somehow helps me with my game. And his little drills using floaties and clothes hangers? Funny, yes. Effective? TOTALLY! (and always inexpensive). I give TGF and especially my boy Michael Breed an Eagle.
There is another show about which I was kind of on the fence; however I am starting to get into it: "Golf Fitness Academy". When I began the process of learning this game, I remember searching for exercises that would help me strengthen whatever should be strengthened. I had a really difficult time finding anything. Of course, some of this is obvious, like ya know, work on upper body strength, but I still felt like I was missing something. I think I can speak for the majority of casual/amateur golfers when I say that we are ready and willing to do pretty much anything that will help our game. Although GFA has been worked into my regularly scheduled programming I can't say yet that I love it or find it quite as helpful as The Golf Fix, so I give that one a Par.
Now, enter the "Haney Project". What can I say? I want to be his next problem child. I love the show (although the Charles Barkley season was downright painful, ya know?). Haney is to golf what Jillian Michaels is to weight loss: Bad. Ass. Granted I can't imagine hitting 1,000 balls a day, as it is, if I hit 100, 2 days in a row my shoulders and forearms get pretty sore, however, I guess that's how to get results. I give Haney a Birdie.
Now... the show that brings tears to my eyes: "The Story of Golf". Even saying that made me feel like I should whisper. This is a five part documentary which tells the story of this crazy game throughout the ages. Part one discusses the origins of golf and is presented in such a masterful way that I find that I almost hold my breath while watching. Stories about Bobby Jones and the 2 Morris' (sob, sob) as well as the evolution of the golf ball and clubs leave me with a sense of awe. This "game", steeped in history and rich in tradition is depicted in a way that makes me proud to carry a golf bag. Who knew that the holes were originally rabbit holes? I mean seriously? I love that kind of info!!! After watching that I felt mildly embarrassed that the Robert Trent Jones' of the world have spoiled us with gorgeous courses and perfectly planned holes. I could watch this every single day (I have got to remember to order the DVD’s!). It inspires me and makes me feel privileged to be a part of the club. This show is hands down the most beautiful depiction of the story of golf and I give it an Ace.
The Golf Channel: it does a golfer good.
Of course watching tournaments is great; however there are a few shows that really do it for me. Number one on my list is "The Golf Fix". Michael Breed is my hero, with his high energy and tips and drills to help us with everything from swing flaws to overcoming mental barriers. I totally love this guy. Last night, using his trusty simulator he demonstrated how to successfully get out (in one) of the crazy bunkers at St. Andrews. Although I have no immediate plans to disgrace the Royal and Ancient Golf Club with my divots, that is some really helpful info! The technique Breed used in the simulation is something I am certain to put to good use in the near future (I really need to work on my bunker shots). But that's just the beginning. The Golf Fix takes videos sent in from viewers, analyzes their swings, and then provides corrections. Here's what I totally love about that: almost every flaw I have watched Michael offer corrections to, somehow helps me with my game. And his little drills using floaties and clothes hangers? Funny, yes. Effective? TOTALLY! (and always inexpensive). I give TGF and especially my boy Michael Breed an Eagle.
There is another show about which I was kind of on the fence; however I am starting to get into it: "Golf Fitness Academy". When I began the process of learning this game, I remember searching for exercises that would help me strengthen whatever should be strengthened. I had a really difficult time finding anything. Of course, some of this is obvious, like ya know, work on upper body strength, but I still felt like I was missing something. I think I can speak for the majority of casual/amateur golfers when I say that we are ready and willing to do pretty much anything that will help our game. Although GFA has been worked into my regularly scheduled programming I can't say yet that I love it or find it quite as helpful as The Golf Fix, so I give that one a Par.
Now, enter the "Haney Project". What can I say? I want to be his next problem child. I love the show (although the Charles Barkley season was downright painful, ya know?). Haney is to golf what Jillian Michaels is to weight loss: Bad. Ass. Granted I can't imagine hitting 1,000 balls a day, as it is, if I hit 100, 2 days in a row my shoulders and forearms get pretty sore, however, I guess that's how to get results. I give Haney a Birdie.
Now... the show that brings tears to my eyes: "The Story of Golf". Even saying that made me feel like I should whisper. This is a five part documentary which tells the story of this crazy game throughout the ages. Part one discusses the origins of golf and is presented in such a masterful way that I find that I almost hold my breath while watching. Stories about Bobby Jones and the 2 Morris' (sob, sob) as well as the evolution of the golf ball and clubs leave me with a sense of awe. This "game", steeped in history and rich in tradition is depicted in a way that makes me proud to carry a golf bag. Who knew that the holes were originally rabbit holes? I mean seriously? I love that kind of info!!! After watching that I felt mildly embarrassed that the Robert Trent Jones' of the world have spoiled us with gorgeous courses and perfectly planned holes. I could watch this every single day (I have got to remember to order the DVD’s!). It inspires me and makes me feel privileged to be a part of the club. This show is hands down the most beautiful depiction of the story of golf and I give it an Ace.
The Golf Channel: it does a golfer good.
July 11, 2010
Rocc-On
I have a list of golfers whom I have affectionately named "my guys". This means when my sweetie is looking at the line up for the current weekend's tourney I say "Oh! Are any of my guys playing?" Now then, for one of these lucky individuals to be classified as one of "my guys" it probably means I have an autograph from them. My very first guys were Tim Clark and Paddy Harrington, after I scored their autographs on my pink visor at the AT&T Pro Am a couple of years ago. That list grew exponentially after I filled an entire visor at the Heritage Tournament in Hilton Head, this past Spring. However, there is one guy in particular who tops this list, yet has remained elusive in terms of autograph capturing: the one, the only (go ahead with the drum roll if you like).. Rocco Mediate! I totally love this guy! It all started one innocent Saturday evening, during the 2008 US Open. That weekend happened to coincide with the North Beach Festival and after a lovely day (which may or may not have included cocktails) we found ourselves at Joe DiMaggio's in NB. The place was jam packed with happy patrons feeling the glow that one too many libations provides. The day was quickly nearing dusk, as the Saturday round neared completion. All of the TV's in the bar were tuned into the Golf Channel and everyone was cheering for Tiger. Eh ehm. Really people? Sigh... I was irritated...
I am not now, nor have I ever been a fan of TW, and no, I do not shed a tear when he slices it deep into the rough (although no one has that kind of luck when it comes to lies). Anyway, because I actually am a nice chickadee, I shall not belabor that point and suffice to say I was not cheering for him to win. Instead... in the midst of throngs of dudes rooting for Tiger, I quite happily and confidently voiced my opposition and stood behind my newest "guy". Go Rocco! Of course I received looks aplenty, but I cared not. In fact, I made a bet with a bartender from Kokkari that Rocco would win. sigh... ok so I haven't been to Kokkari in a while...
Everyone hears stories about the woman's husband who was late for work the day the Twin Towers fell and that fact saved his life. Sometimes a minute... a last minute decision to take a different route, or pressing snooze one more time can change your life. At the US Open in 2008 it all came down to a putt. One... single... freaking... putt. In the words of my sweetie "that's golf baby".
Although Rocco did not prevail (I will not say that he lost because truly he did not), he is my #1 "guy".. and as one of the most loyal people on the planet, I will not waiver in my support of him. Here's the thing: he was a cup lip away from claiming the title at Torrey Pines, but beyond that, he is every one of us on the course. He smokes... he grabs a granola bar from the little shack thing at one of the holes, he has great days... and he trunk slams. He is the real deal. And I want to play 18 with him (After I get my new driver acourse).
My quest has become to simply say hello to the guy, perhaps obtain an autograph and if I wish with all of my might, stay conscious long enough to have someone snap a picture of me with him. Sigh... I could totally die a happy woman. I have tried on a couple of occasions. This past year at the AT&T Pro Am (yes, the one where Bill Murray dissed me... whatever.. ) we followed Rocco's group. That day he was playing with Tim Herron (aka: Lumpy, and I did get his autograph!) as well as Bill Murray and an amateur with whom I am not familiar. Bless my sweetie's heart for making sure we followed them... I thought for sure that at the very least I would get to say hello and get his autograph at the end of the day. Alas. It was not to be. Yes, I moped most of the way home, but figured it just wasn't meant to be.
Fast forward to March... The Heritage Tournament in Hilton Head. I knew that Rocco was playing and since we were being hosted in 2 of the sky boxes (especially the one on the 18th green) I thought for sure I would get my wish. We didn't go to the tourney on Friday (seriously, I really was there on business) but we toured several hotel properties. Since we get some inside scoop on the hotel stuff, I was asking everyone if they knew where Rocco was staying so I could ya know.. hang out in the lobby just in case, hehe! So... there we were... having dinner on Friday evening and I received "the text". My sweetie sent me a text with only two words. It read: "oh Rocco". Yeah.. he missed the cut and I'm sure was trunk slamming before I even knew. Are you kidding? No Rocco? I was bummed like I can't even tell you. My hotel/CVB chums were taking pity on me and joking that they were going to get a cardboard cut out of him so I could have my picture. So. Very. Bummed.
Again with the fast forward... to this weekend and the John Deere tourney. Although my guy has not had the best luck of late, he totally killed it! In a cruel twist of fate, so did Goydos and Stricker. Don't get me wrong, those guys played like they had been kissed by the golf gods, but all I could think was: "Rocco should have won this". He aced one for pete's sake, and played as if he too had a little peck on the cheek.
I guess the moral of the story is: you can't win 'em all. I get that, I really do... but Rocco sure could have used that win today, and I sure would be a happy girl if I'd gotten that picture.
Keep on Rocc-in'
I am not now, nor have I ever been a fan of TW, and no, I do not shed a tear when he slices it deep into the rough (although no one has that kind of luck when it comes to lies). Anyway, because I actually am a nice chickadee, I shall not belabor that point and suffice to say I was not cheering for him to win. Instead... in the midst of throngs of dudes rooting for Tiger, I quite happily and confidently voiced my opposition and stood behind my newest "guy". Go Rocco! Of course I received looks aplenty, but I cared not. In fact, I made a bet with a bartender from Kokkari that Rocco would win. sigh... ok so I haven't been to Kokkari in a while...
Everyone hears stories about the woman's husband who was late for work the day the Twin Towers fell and that fact saved his life. Sometimes a minute... a last minute decision to take a different route, or pressing snooze one more time can change your life. At the US Open in 2008 it all came down to a putt. One... single... freaking... putt. In the words of my sweetie "that's golf baby".
Although Rocco did not prevail (I will not say that he lost because truly he did not), he is my #1 "guy".. and as one of the most loyal people on the planet, I will not waiver in my support of him. Here's the thing: he was a cup lip away from claiming the title at Torrey Pines, but beyond that, he is every one of us on the course. He smokes... he grabs a granola bar from the little shack thing at one of the holes, he has great days... and he trunk slams. He is the real deal. And I want to play 18 with him (After I get my new driver acourse).
My quest has become to simply say hello to the guy, perhaps obtain an autograph and if I wish with all of my might, stay conscious long enough to have someone snap a picture of me with him. Sigh... I could totally die a happy woman. I have tried on a couple of occasions. This past year at the AT&T Pro Am (yes, the one where Bill Murray dissed me... whatever.. ) we followed Rocco's group. That day he was playing with Tim Herron (aka: Lumpy, and I did get his autograph!) as well as Bill Murray and an amateur with whom I am not familiar. Bless my sweetie's heart for making sure we followed them... I thought for sure that at the very least I would get to say hello and get his autograph at the end of the day. Alas. It was not to be. Yes, I moped most of the way home, but figured it just wasn't meant to be.
Fast forward to March... The Heritage Tournament in Hilton Head. I knew that Rocco was playing and since we were being hosted in 2 of the sky boxes (especially the one on the 18th green) I thought for sure I would get my wish. We didn't go to the tourney on Friday (seriously, I really was there on business) but we toured several hotel properties. Since we get some inside scoop on the hotel stuff, I was asking everyone if they knew where Rocco was staying so I could ya know.. hang out in the lobby just in case, hehe! So... there we were... having dinner on Friday evening and I received "the text". My sweetie sent me a text with only two words. It read: "oh Rocco". Yeah.. he missed the cut and I'm sure was trunk slamming before I even knew. Are you kidding? No Rocco? I was bummed like I can't even tell you. My hotel/CVB chums were taking pity on me and joking that they were going to get a cardboard cut out of him so I could have my picture. So. Very. Bummed.
Again with the fast forward... to this weekend and the John Deere tourney. Although my guy has not had the best luck of late, he totally killed it! In a cruel twist of fate, so did Goydos and Stricker. Don't get me wrong, those guys played like they had been kissed by the golf gods, but all I could think was: "Rocco should have won this". He aced one for pete's sake, and played as if he too had a little peck on the cheek.
I guess the moral of the story is: you can't win 'em all. I get that, I really do... but Rocco sure could have used that win today, and I sure would be a happy girl if I'd gotten that picture.
Keep on Rocc-in'
July 09, 2010
What a rush
I think I am still suffering with a "golf hangover" from last weekend... I'm not complaining though, it was totally fab! It all started on Friday afternoon... I had been stuck on jury duty and we were released early that day, for whatever reason. Since I had been in court all week and didn't know we'd get out early on Friday, it was kind of like a free day, which is a rarity in my world. My sweetie called and said he was on his way down and asked if I would call for a T time because he was jonesin' to hit his big dog. Wow... 18 on a Friday afternoon?!?! What a treat! I got the T time at Sunnyvale Golf Course, which was new for me and I was pretty excited.
We arrived at the course and were paired with another couple, and after a few minutes we were off and running. The course is really beautiful and it was a perfect, warm summer afternoon. Of course we did not take a cart so the luggin' commenced. I don't know what was up, perhaps it was my compressed spine and the tired factor from being stuck in a jury box all week but I played like hell. However, I made a decision early in the round, that no matter how I played I was NOT going to get upset. The course was so darned beautiful, and I was enjoying this perfect day with my sweetie, so seriously, who cares?!?! (OK, well I totally do, but 4 hours is a long time to beat yourself up). The round was long and fairly exhausting, but I had a great time. Then... it came to me: we were walking from the 17th green to the 18th T box... as we came around the corner I could see the green... and I was transfixed. The sun was low in the sky and cast this breathtaking, golden, glow on the fairway and the green off in the distance. All was quiet except for the birds chirping in the distance, and various other sounds of nature. I was undone. The scene completely enchanted me. The sweet scent of the grass cooling after the warm day, the quiet that surrounded me... this is exactly what drew me to golf in the first place. I realized that being pissy about a bad shot, or a 12 putt (kidding), serves only one purpose: to totally ruin a perfectly lovely day. I've decided that I'm just not going there.
We finished the round and headed home... I was utterly exhausted. I mean like my hair hurt... the good news is, that although I was initially thinking that as a big girl golfer I shouldn't be so tired, I took one look into the driver's seat and saw that my sweetie was feeling exactly the same way. Whew! Of course we decided to suit up the next day and do it again! Woohoo! We didn't play 18 (thank gawd), but instead went to my itty course and started with a session of chipping practice. I really needed that, and when I heard (and felt) that clean connection of a good chip, I felt great! We headed to the first T and it was game on!
Before I tee'd off, my sweetie suggested a minor swing correction. I took a few practice swings but when I hit the ball I was too much in my head thinking about the correction so the shot was totally lame and I had to take a mully... I mean for gawds sake it was the first hole and that is NOT way to begin a round. So... treasured hybrid in hand, I took a breath and looked down at Gertie (I swear sometimes she winks at me) anyway... I was lined up perfectly, took the club back and let 'er rip... My sweetie and I play Tiger's Wii Golf game and when you make a perfect swing it makes this noise, kind of like a gun shot in a way, and the screen goes into slo-mo. OMG... that was this swing! I had perfect rhythm, perfect form, and absolutely perfect connection with that ball. I've never felt anything quite like that... it was like, when you watch the lotto numbers being drawn and as each ball drops into the slot, it has your number on it. It was literally a perfect golf swing. As I finished my swing and held my finish for what seemed like days, I wasn't even really watching my ball because the weird, but amazing, rush of endorphins had completely overtaken me. It was the best shot I have ever hit and the swing... it was flawless! Who knew? My sweetie was speechless, and I was frozen but watching Gertie land on the green, exactly where I intended for her to land was... it was... ummm, I don't think that even Roget's can help me find the adjective to adequately describe it but it was freaking awesome! Oh and... to quote my sweetie: "it was DAS".. Dead. Ass. Straight. Booyah!
Here is what I learned from last weekend:
1. Stop and smell the sand trap every now and again, because that is what is really important.
2. Anything is possible... even a perfect golf swing on occasion.
3. Golf courses are beautiful and tranquil for a reason, remember that.
The world is, the world is. Love and Life are deep...
We arrived at the course and were paired with another couple, and after a few minutes we were off and running. The course is really beautiful and it was a perfect, warm summer afternoon. Of course we did not take a cart so the luggin' commenced. I don't know what was up, perhaps it was my compressed spine and the tired factor from being stuck in a jury box all week but I played like hell. However, I made a decision early in the round, that no matter how I played I was NOT going to get upset. The course was so darned beautiful, and I was enjoying this perfect day with my sweetie, so seriously, who cares?!?! (OK, well I totally do, but 4 hours is a long time to beat yourself up). The round was long and fairly exhausting, but I had a great time. Then... it came to me: we were walking from the 17th green to the 18th T box... as we came around the corner I could see the green... and I was transfixed. The sun was low in the sky and cast this breathtaking, golden, glow on the fairway and the green off in the distance. All was quiet except for the birds chirping in the distance, and various other sounds of nature. I was undone. The scene completely enchanted me. The sweet scent of the grass cooling after the warm day, the quiet that surrounded me... this is exactly what drew me to golf in the first place. I realized that being pissy about a bad shot, or a 12 putt (kidding), serves only one purpose: to totally ruin a perfectly lovely day. I've decided that I'm just not going there.
We finished the round and headed home... I was utterly exhausted. I mean like my hair hurt... the good news is, that although I was initially thinking that as a big girl golfer I shouldn't be so tired, I took one look into the driver's seat and saw that my sweetie was feeling exactly the same way. Whew! Of course we decided to suit up the next day and do it again! Woohoo! We didn't play 18 (thank gawd), but instead went to my itty course and started with a session of chipping practice. I really needed that, and when I heard (and felt) that clean connection of a good chip, I felt great! We headed to the first T and it was game on!
Before I tee'd off, my sweetie suggested a minor swing correction. I took a few practice swings but when I hit the ball I was too much in my head thinking about the correction so the shot was totally lame and I had to take a mully... I mean for gawds sake it was the first hole and that is NOT way to begin a round. So... treasured hybrid in hand, I took a breath and looked down at Gertie (I swear sometimes she winks at me) anyway... I was lined up perfectly, took the club back and let 'er rip... My sweetie and I play Tiger's Wii Golf game and when you make a perfect swing it makes this noise, kind of like a gun shot in a way, and the screen goes into slo-mo. OMG... that was this swing! I had perfect rhythm, perfect form, and absolutely perfect connection with that ball. I've never felt anything quite like that... it was like, when you watch the lotto numbers being drawn and as each ball drops into the slot, it has your number on it. It was literally a perfect golf swing. As I finished my swing and held my finish for what seemed like days, I wasn't even really watching my ball because the weird, but amazing, rush of endorphins had completely overtaken me. It was the best shot I have ever hit and the swing... it was flawless! Who knew? My sweetie was speechless, and I was frozen but watching Gertie land on the green, exactly where I intended for her to land was... it was... ummm, I don't think that even Roget's can help me find the adjective to adequately describe it but it was freaking awesome! Oh and... to quote my sweetie: "it was DAS".. Dead. Ass. Straight. Booyah!
Here is what I learned from last weekend:
1. Stop and smell the sand trap every now and again, because that is what is really important.
2. Anything is possible... even a perfect golf swing on occasion.
3. Golf courses are beautiful and tranquil for a reason, remember that.
The world is, the world is. Love and Life are deep...
July 01, 2010
Fire in the hole
There is nothing more sad than having to be out of town on business on two of the best golf weather weekends in the recent past. Sigh... that was me two weekends in a row. However, I got back into town and was chomping at the bit to get out there and smack Gertie around. Although I love my home course, it's itty... 9 holes, par 3's, I would like to at least once a month get out there and play 18. Even better, to try out a new course. In theory I love that idea, however there is something to be said for being familiar with a course. For example, I know what clubs to hit on every hole at my itty course, no matter where the markers are placed or how the wind is blowing. However, there is a bit of horror, mixed with terror, topped off with a bit of a thrill and excitement when you tee off from a hole you've never played.
This was the case 2 weekends ago, when my sweetie and I headed to Sharp Park Golf Course in Pacifica. I can't believe I had forgotten about this course... let's just say that as a teenager I had been there many times. Funny how I had no clue what it looked like in the daylight.., but that's a whole other blog. Eh ehmm.. I digress. Now then, we tried to get a T-time but they were booked and suggested we just show up and they would get us out when they could. We showed up, probably about 10:00 (oh did I mention that this was US Open weekend and uh yeah.. I'm still totally bitter that I wasn't at Pebble.. hmph!)... so we get to the course and they got us right on! Yay! I was so excited! They added a totally nice guy to play with us and we were ready to go! So, we teed off and my drive was EXCEPTIONAL! woohoo!! Of course I used my 3 guy because I am so over my driver (dammit I wish Christmas was closer)... Anyway, I felt totally fab and my sweetie was beaming like a proud papa. So I grab my clubs, throw them on my back (no, no we didn't have a cart.. omg).. and went to find Gertie. There she was, minding her own business right in the middle of the fairway! Good girl Gertie!!! woo hoo! So, I pulled out my prized 24 degree hybrid and took a swing... I smacked her just right yet again and off she went for a nice ride. My sweetie suggested we just call it a day and head to the bar! Well uhh.. we totally should have.
I had some good shots throughout the day, primarily on the front nine, but by the time we made the turn.. yeah.. I was tired. The thing is... since my driver sucks I usually tee off with my 3 guy, which means with a totally killer shot, downhill, with the wind behind me, the farthest I'm hitting is like 150. That's all fine and dandy on a par 3, but anything bigger and I've got a few swings before I get to the green. Add to that the fact that we don't do the cart thing... it's all lugging, all 18. Whew. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining at all! If the boys can do it, then we, the biggirlgolfers will do it! However... that doesn't mean we'll do it well :). My swing was some kinda tired...
We get to the 15th hole and I'm like "OMG, what is this?!?!".. initially I was happy because it was a par 3... well sure, that's fab and all but uhhhh... you cannot see the green from the tee box because there is a ginormous (yes, that is the official term) patch of reeds and fluffy shrubby things that are taller than I am... Gulp. So, it's all about a wish and a prayer because I have no clue where I'm aiming. The minute I realize this is the situation I start to freak out (internally of course) worrying that if I top the ball I'm totally screwed. So, I spend a bit of time freaking out, address the ball and yep... there goes Gertie, right into the reeds. Really? Really did I just do that?!?! Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!! So... whilst I belt out a rousing rendition of Taps for poor Gertie who took one for the team, my caddy (my sweetie), grabs Gertie #2 from my bag. I was hitting my hybrid from the tee and honestly, if there is a club that can summon a great shot outta me, it's that one... so I took a deep breath, reminded myself to "try easy" and let 'er rip. Thankfully this time, Gertie got some air and cleared the crazy rough... but I was totally irritated.
In all honesty I did have fun. I mean, I don't expect greatness but do have to constantly remind myself that I'm just not good enough to get all pissy about a bad shot. Golf is a game of misses, it's just a matter of how bad the miss is. It's just like sales... a game of numbers really. The more shots you take, the more chance you have of scoring a good one. So, I better just keep shootin'!
Ready... Aim... Fire
This was the case 2 weekends ago, when my sweetie and I headed to Sharp Park Golf Course in Pacifica. I can't believe I had forgotten about this course... let's just say that as a teenager I had been there many times. Funny how I had no clue what it looked like in the daylight.., but that's a whole other blog. Eh ehmm.. I digress. Now then, we tried to get a T-time but they were booked and suggested we just show up and they would get us out when they could. We showed up, probably about 10:00 (oh did I mention that this was US Open weekend and uh yeah.. I'm still totally bitter that I wasn't at Pebble.. hmph!)... so we get to the course and they got us right on! Yay! I was so excited! They added a totally nice guy to play with us and we were ready to go! So, we teed off and my drive was EXCEPTIONAL! woohoo!! Of course I used my 3 guy because I am so over my driver (dammit I wish Christmas was closer)... Anyway, I felt totally fab and my sweetie was beaming like a proud papa. So I grab my clubs, throw them on my back (no, no we didn't have a cart.. omg).. and went to find Gertie. There she was, minding her own business right in the middle of the fairway! Good girl Gertie!!! woo hoo! So, I pulled out my prized 24 degree hybrid and took a swing... I smacked her just right yet again and off she went for a nice ride. My sweetie suggested we just call it a day and head to the bar! Well uhh.. we totally should have.
I had some good shots throughout the day, primarily on the front nine, but by the time we made the turn.. yeah.. I was tired. The thing is... since my driver sucks I usually tee off with my 3 guy, which means with a totally killer shot, downhill, with the wind behind me, the farthest I'm hitting is like 150. That's all fine and dandy on a par 3, but anything bigger and I've got a few swings before I get to the green. Add to that the fact that we don't do the cart thing... it's all lugging, all 18. Whew. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining at all! If the boys can do it, then we, the biggirlgolfers will do it! However... that doesn't mean we'll do it well :). My swing was some kinda tired...
We get to the 15th hole and I'm like "OMG, what is this?!?!".. initially I was happy because it was a par 3... well sure, that's fab and all but uhhhh... you cannot see the green from the tee box because there is a ginormous (yes, that is the official term) patch of reeds and fluffy shrubby things that are taller than I am... Gulp. So, it's all about a wish and a prayer because I have no clue where I'm aiming. The minute I realize this is the situation I start to freak out (internally of course) worrying that if I top the ball I'm totally screwed. So, I spend a bit of time freaking out, address the ball and yep... there goes Gertie, right into the reeds. Really? Really did I just do that?!?! Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!! So... whilst I belt out a rousing rendition of Taps for poor Gertie who took one for the team, my caddy (my sweetie), grabs Gertie #2 from my bag. I was hitting my hybrid from the tee and honestly, if there is a club that can summon a great shot outta me, it's that one... so I took a deep breath, reminded myself to "try easy" and let 'er rip. Thankfully this time, Gertie got some air and cleared the crazy rough... but I was totally irritated.
In all honesty I did have fun. I mean, I don't expect greatness but do have to constantly remind myself that I'm just not good enough to get all pissy about a bad shot. Golf is a game of misses, it's just a matter of how bad the miss is. It's just like sales... a game of numbers really. The more shots you take, the more chance you have of scoring a good one. So, I better just keep shootin'!
Ready... Aim... Fire
June 15, 2010
It's in the bag
About a million years ago, I often watched this show called "This Old House". There was also another show (the name escapes me), where this guy "Norm" would renovate old, old houses. Norm was this amazing master carpenter guy who could fix and build anything... seriously.. ANYTHING. I remember having conversations about this guy and often mentioned that while he was obviously an amazing craftsman, he also had every tricked out power tool known to mankind. Skill is important, of course, but so are tools. I am a fairly decent domestic goddess and while I possess a good amount of skill in the kitchen, without my tools of the trade, things would be a lot more challenging... As with most things in life, this translates to golf.
When I started on my little journey to become a golf chick, I began with a set of inexpensive, hand-me-down clubs. Once my sweetie saw that I was "all in" and not only committed, but obsessed, we drove straight to Sport's Authority and looked at "all the pink golf stuff"! That day was like Christmas morning for a 4 year old! We found a full set of clubs (omg they are pink!) and they came with bag. We actually left the store and drove right back to the range so I could take them for a spin. I was glowing... I know I was!
Now then... a full set of nice (yet not horribly expensive) starter clubs are perfectly fine for the freshly baked golfer. But, what's a girl to do once she's moving into toddler-hood?
Well, I don't know yet. Although I am the most instant gratification person on the planet, I know that patience will pay off here. I do know that the driver in the bag of rentals I used in Hilton Head made a big difference for me. So, save the pennies and then, get fitted for a driver that maximizes the positive aspects of my swing (there's got to be something that isn't horrible about it right?), whilst minimizes the flaws (those I know for a fact exist). I sort of equate clubs to shoes (OK I may equate many things to shoes).. for example, that pair of hot pink, satin, peep toe, Christian Louboutin pumps I tried on at Barneys made me look like a movie star. No seriously, I was wearing jeans and had been walking around the city all day (and perhaps sipped a cocktail or two, but who's counting), and the minute I slipped my pups into those shoes, it was like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz with the ruby slippers. Sigh... those shoes are a work of art, but my feet were killing me within about 2 minutes (they also happen to carry a price tag of just under a grand so there's that). The point is, they are FABULOUS... but they just didn't fit me or my feet (however should I ever come up with $1k to blow on a pair of shoes, I'll order them in a different width etc). My point is, just because they are fab doesn't mean they are a good fit... like clubs. So, if I threw down a mortgage payment on a top of the line set of clubs, would my game be better? Maybe... maybe not.
A month or so ago my course was hosting "demo days". All the big names were there, Callaway, Taylor Made, Ping, etc. After we played our round my sweetie and I checked out the sellers wares (by the way, if anyone is on the fence about deciding whether or not to start playing golf, keep in mind that it offers fab shopping opportunities... that should sway you over to the green side). Anyway, I decided to check out some Callaway hybrids. I have a 21 degree hybrid in my bag, but I don't love it. When I was in Hilton Head, I used a 27 degree and was like BOOYAH, that is my club! So I swung a few hybrids, thankfully hit some kickin' shots (the reps are standing right there, I mean the pressure was on!). Anyway, we left for a quick trip to the 19th hole and I had dreams of hybrids swinging in my head. At one point my sweetie briefly disappeared (I assumed to nip into the loo), and we left shortly thereafter. Guess who's bag was just a little bit heavier on the way out? Yep! My sweetie went to the pro shop and bought the 24 degree Callaway! omg.. I have no words! I LOVE THAT CLUB (not as much as the hot pink peep toe pumps, but close).
Every time I pull the head cover off of that club, I get a little thrill and often hit a great shot with it. And yes, I intend to buy a full set of hybrid irons because unlike my sweetie, I do not possess a perfect natural swing. Hybrids are very forgiving and a really good call for a casual golf chick. They don't catch the grass like irons can and I use that club for pretty much every approach shot. Sigh... I love it. Haven't named it yet, must work on that.
It is not necessary to go into financial ruin to start playing golf. In fact, it's better to wait until you've found your swing. Just like fingerprints, we all have our very own swing... and we should embrace it for exactly what it is.. good bad or ugly. :)
Swing battah, battah... swing!
When I started on my little journey to become a golf chick, I began with a set of inexpensive, hand-me-down clubs. Once my sweetie saw that I was "all in" and not only committed, but obsessed, we drove straight to Sport's Authority and looked at "all the pink golf stuff"! That day was like Christmas morning for a 4 year old! We found a full set of clubs (omg they are pink!) and they came with bag. We actually left the store and drove right back to the range so I could take them for a spin. I was glowing... I know I was!
Now then... a full set of nice (yet not horribly expensive) starter clubs are perfectly fine for the freshly baked golfer. But, what's a girl to do once she's moving into toddler-hood?
Well, I don't know yet. Although I am the most instant gratification person on the planet, I know that patience will pay off here. I do know that the driver in the bag of rentals I used in Hilton Head made a big difference for me. So, save the pennies and then, get fitted for a driver that maximizes the positive aspects of my swing (there's got to be something that isn't horrible about it right?), whilst minimizes the flaws (those I know for a fact exist). I sort of equate clubs to shoes (OK I may equate many things to shoes).. for example, that pair of hot pink, satin, peep toe, Christian Louboutin pumps I tried on at Barneys made me look like a movie star. No seriously, I was wearing jeans and had been walking around the city all day (and perhaps sipped a cocktail or two, but who's counting), and the minute I slipped my pups into those shoes, it was like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz with the ruby slippers. Sigh... those shoes are a work of art, but my feet were killing me within about 2 minutes (they also happen to carry a price tag of just under a grand so there's that). The point is, they are FABULOUS... but they just didn't fit me or my feet (however should I ever come up with $1k to blow on a pair of shoes, I'll order them in a different width etc). My point is, just because they are fab doesn't mean they are a good fit... like clubs. So, if I threw down a mortgage payment on a top of the line set of clubs, would my game be better? Maybe... maybe not.
A month or so ago my course was hosting "demo days". All the big names were there, Callaway, Taylor Made, Ping, etc. After we played our round my sweetie and I checked out the sellers wares (by the way, if anyone is on the fence about deciding whether or not to start playing golf, keep in mind that it offers fab shopping opportunities... that should sway you over to the green side). Anyway, I decided to check out some Callaway hybrids. I have a 21 degree hybrid in my bag, but I don't love it. When I was in Hilton Head, I used a 27 degree and was like BOOYAH, that is my club! So I swung a few hybrids, thankfully hit some kickin' shots (the reps are standing right there, I mean the pressure was on!). Anyway, we left for a quick trip to the 19th hole and I had dreams of hybrids swinging in my head. At one point my sweetie briefly disappeared (I assumed to nip into the loo), and we left shortly thereafter. Guess who's bag was just a little bit heavier on the way out? Yep! My sweetie went to the pro shop and bought the 24 degree Callaway! omg.. I have no words! I LOVE THAT CLUB (not as much as the hot pink peep toe pumps, but close).
Every time I pull the head cover off of that club, I get a little thrill and often hit a great shot with it. And yes, I intend to buy a full set of hybrid irons because unlike my sweetie, I do not possess a perfect natural swing. Hybrids are very forgiving and a really good call for a casual golf chick. They don't catch the grass like irons can and I use that club for pretty much every approach shot. Sigh... I love it. Haven't named it yet, must work on that.
It is not necessary to go into financial ruin to start playing golf. In fact, it's better to wait until you've found your swing. Just like fingerprints, we all have our very own swing... and we should embrace it for exactly what it is.. good bad or ugly. :)
Swing battah, battah... swing!
June 10, 2010
Try Easy
Since I am in sales, I have a lot of pressure to get results. Sales results equate to bills paid (and golf of course), which is the point of it all. I was having a conversation with a friend of mine who does the same thing I do, for the same company. We were discussing the frustrations of being commission only and how difficult it is to work your heiny off, and perhaps have an entire week (or longer) without closing a deal. My friend mentioned that it just shouldn’t be this difficult… sigh.
Although we may joke about wishing to be ladies (or gentlemen) of leisure, few of us truly want to lie around the house eating bon-bons all day. I can certainly speak for myself when I say that I like hard work, because the reward is so much sweeter when you know you’ve earned it. This frame of mind is exactly why we casual golfers have a hard time “letting go”. In terms of hard work, golf can prove the most challenging because one practice on the range does not a pro make. However, our golf games are constantly evolving, and eventually we improve. No instant gratification to be found here… and we have to learn to be ok with that.
Take the golf swing for example. The harder you try to hit the ball, the worse your shot will be. The backswing should be nice and smooth, and after you’ve engaged your lower body, centrifugal force will kick in and give you a nice club head speed. But the club has to do the work… the smoother the swing the better the connection and in turn the shot. We all know the feeling of that great shot, perfectly timed, perfectly connecting the ball and the sweet spot, and that is what keeps us coming back time after time. That shot really isn’t that difficult, yet it can often be the most elusive thing to find for 18 holes... or 36.. or... or.. or..
Why can’t we just chill out? Why can’t we just relax? Why do we strive for perfect results within every aspect of our lives? Isn’t the journey supposed to be the good part?
Shades on. Windows down. Wind in your hair.
Get on your bad motor scooter and ride...
Although we may joke about wishing to be ladies (or gentlemen) of leisure, few of us truly want to lie around the house eating bon-bons all day. I can certainly speak for myself when I say that I like hard work, because the reward is so much sweeter when you know you’ve earned it. This frame of mind is exactly why we casual golfers have a hard time “letting go”. In terms of hard work, golf can prove the most challenging because one practice on the range does not a pro make. However, our golf games are constantly evolving, and eventually we improve. No instant gratification to be found here… and we have to learn to be ok with that.
Take the golf swing for example. The harder you try to hit the ball, the worse your shot will be. The backswing should be nice and smooth, and after you’ve engaged your lower body, centrifugal force will kick in and give you a nice club head speed. But the club has to do the work… the smoother the swing the better the connection and in turn the shot. We all know the feeling of that great shot, perfectly timed, perfectly connecting the ball and the sweet spot, and that is what keeps us coming back time after time. That shot really isn’t that difficult, yet it can often be the most elusive thing to find for 18 holes... or 36.. or... or.. or..
Why can’t we just chill out? Why can’t we just relax? Why do we strive for perfect results within every aspect of our lives? Isn’t the journey supposed to be the good part?
Shades on. Windows down. Wind in your hair.
Get on your bad motor scooter and ride...
May 31, 2010
The Peanut Gallery
Yesterday, my sweetie and I played a round with my brother in law. Since we played on Mother's Day he and my sister have been bitten with the bug and I am thrilled! We were waiting for the group in front of us to tee off and just kind of hanging out. The first guy in the group took his shot and totally pulled it landing far left of where he had intended. The guy he was playing with said "you made great connection and had killer hang time". The second guy stepped up and took his shot. He topped it, and the grounder rolled a fairly decent distance. His com padre said "hey at least it was straight, now you've just got to get up and down". You see? Golfers are so nice to each other! The constant words of encouragement from the peeps in your group keep you going and allow you to not feel like a complete fool. Rhetoric is something I find fascinating. When people use certain words or phrases and the reasons why they use them has a multitude of variables. The golf course offers a plethora of situations just like the ones those guys had on the first tee.
Words and inflection can evoke any number of emotions from the person for whom they are intended. Case in point: My twinster is a brand new, freshly baked (that's what I call newborn babies because they're all warm and soft) golfer... but so is my brother in law. Since they've decided that golf is their game, they have hit the range and looked for any opportunity to play. My sister had hoped that golf would be something they could do together, but separately. Meaning, they could go to the range together, play a round together, but also work on their own games independently. My sis has a crazy work travel schedule, still does hair when she's "off" and has three girls (the most precious nieces I could ever dream of) with which to contend. Needless to say life tends to be a bit crazy for her. It would be wonderful if she could use the driving range as I do, as a way to clear her head and find peacefulness amidst a hectic day. Hopefully this will happen, however...
Let's just say, she doesn't need anyone throwing salt in her game: [enter, brother in law]. My bro in law is of course a guy (duh), however he was also a baseball player. Can you see where I'm going with this yet? Anyway, he's still freshly baked but has a serious advantage over my sister: he's a dude, and he played baseball. The idea of hitting a ball and the physics behind that are not as foreign to him as they are to my sis. Now then, there they are at the driving range. My sis is still working on finding her full swing and is working with her 9 iron and 7 iron. This is exactly as it should be. Sigh... my bro in law says to my uber self conscious sis "do you think you should have a solo lesson". oh no... really? here's the thing: although that sounds like an innocuous and even perhaps a supportive comment, it was the inflection. Here's what my sister heard: "you are so remedial that you need extra help to not make a fool of yourself". The day after that comment was made my bro in law was coming down to play with my sweetie and me. Prior to his departure my sis asked that he leave her 7 and 9 guys because she was going to try to hit a bucket. My darling, precious, yet idiotic male of a bro in law said: "ummm don't you want your driver? you should start practicing with that so you can hit the ball further". omg. NOOOOO!!!! Not only is my sis not ready to swing her driver, she's got a ways to go before she tackles the woods. AND THAT IS OK!!! whew. Yes, yes I wanted to smack my bro in law, but he really is the cutest and had no idea he upset my sis (and let's all cross fingers he doesn't read this particular post.. love you MW!!! you know I do!!).
Then there is my sweetie. He's my caddy, my Fluff Cowan. He lugs my pink golf bag without a second thought. He also happens to be a man of few words (clearly opposites attract). However, he's never at a loss for words when it comes to "stating the obvious". Yesterday, I made my first official GIR (green in regulation) on the 4th hole at my little home course (not my first GIR ever, I've done that plenty o'times, the first time on this hole, yay me!). This hole is the hardest on the course and getting your ball to stay up on the green takes a fricking act of God. The green plays about 156 from the tee and is elevated. That would all be fine and dandy if the green didn't have a center elevation equivalent to the crest of Mt. Everest. You have to give the ball a good smack to get it to the green, however if the ball comes in hot )or even warm), it will just keep on rolling over the green and down into the grassy ditch. You try to land it short, and chances of it rolling up and on to the green are slim. Needless to say I could have jumped up and down at the feat! Ahh, but never fear, putting on this green is worse than sticking the drive. I had a crazy long putt and the break is brutal. I felt good and hit the ball with what felt to me like a good stroke and the right distance and a good line. The ball has to have enough gas to get up the slope, but if you don't give it exxxactly the right amount, it makes it up the slope and catches the beginning of the down slope. Once that happens: bah-bye Gertie (my ball is always named Gertie, for some reason I like it better when she has a name, don't ask). There goes Gertie, rolling and rolling and rolling.. off the green and yeah.. you guessed it.. lands at the bottom of the grassy ditch. FRICK! So much for the GIR, I have to chip it up onto the green from the bottom of this darned ditch... soo irritated! At this point throwing my club (or perhaps entire golf bag) into the bay is the most innocent action I'm contemplating taking. I'm trying to be cool, be all "big girl golf" and then.. my sweetie says.. wait for it, waaaait for it... he says: "you hit it way too hard". Really? REALLY?!?! Wow... thank you for stating the obvious, because clearly I never would have figured that out. He knows that it makes me nuts when he states the obvious. Statements like that climb up my last nerve and screeeeeech their way back down. The thing is, words have the ability to lift you up or to push you down. I know that my sweetie would never push me down, he's the "wind beneath my drive" for pity's sake but for the love of gawd I can't take it!
Word to the wise: don't speak without your attorney present.
Words and inflection can evoke any number of emotions from the person for whom they are intended. Case in point: My twinster is a brand new, freshly baked (that's what I call newborn babies because they're all warm and soft) golfer... but so is my brother in law. Since they've decided that golf is their game, they have hit the range and looked for any opportunity to play. My sister had hoped that golf would be something they could do together, but separately. Meaning, they could go to the range together, play a round together, but also work on their own games independently. My sis has a crazy work travel schedule, still does hair when she's "off" and has three girls (the most precious nieces I could ever dream of) with which to contend. Needless to say life tends to be a bit crazy for her. It would be wonderful if she could use the driving range as I do, as a way to clear her head and find peacefulness amidst a hectic day. Hopefully this will happen, however...
Let's just say, she doesn't need anyone throwing salt in her game: [enter, brother in law]. My bro in law is of course a guy (duh), however he was also a baseball player. Can you see where I'm going with this yet? Anyway, he's still freshly baked but has a serious advantage over my sister: he's a dude, and he played baseball. The idea of hitting a ball and the physics behind that are not as foreign to him as they are to my sis. Now then, there they are at the driving range. My sis is still working on finding her full swing and is working with her 9 iron and 7 iron. This is exactly as it should be. Sigh... my bro in law says to my uber self conscious sis "do you think you should have a solo lesson". oh no... really? here's the thing: although that sounds like an innocuous and even perhaps a supportive comment, it was the inflection. Here's what my sister heard: "you are so remedial that you need extra help to not make a fool of yourself". The day after that comment was made my bro in law was coming down to play with my sweetie and me. Prior to his departure my sis asked that he leave her 7 and 9 guys because she was going to try to hit a bucket. My darling, precious, yet idiotic male of a bro in law said: "ummm don't you want your driver? you should start practicing with that so you can hit the ball further". omg. NOOOOO!!!! Not only is my sis not ready to swing her driver, she's got a ways to go before she tackles the woods. AND THAT IS OK!!! whew. Yes, yes I wanted to smack my bro in law, but he really is the cutest and had no idea he upset my sis (and let's all cross fingers he doesn't read this particular post.. love you MW!!! you know I do!!).
Then there is my sweetie. He's my caddy, my Fluff Cowan. He lugs my pink golf bag without a second thought. He also happens to be a man of few words (clearly opposites attract). However, he's never at a loss for words when it comes to "stating the obvious". Yesterday, I made my first official GIR (green in regulation) on the 4th hole at my little home course (not my first GIR ever, I've done that plenty o'times, the first time on this hole, yay me!). This hole is the hardest on the course and getting your ball to stay up on the green takes a fricking act of God. The green plays about 156 from the tee and is elevated. That would all be fine and dandy if the green didn't have a center elevation equivalent to the crest of Mt. Everest. You have to give the ball a good smack to get it to the green, however if the ball comes in hot )or even warm), it will just keep on rolling over the green and down into the grassy ditch. You try to land it short, and chances of it rolling up and on to the green are slim. Needless to say I could have jumped up and down at the feat! Ahh, but never fear, putting on this green is worse than sticking the drive. I had a crazy long putt and the break is brutal. I felt good and hit the ball with what felt to me like a good stroke and the right distance and a good line. The ball has to have enough gas to get up the slope, but if you don't give it exxxactly the right amount, it makes it up the slope and catches the beginning of the down slope. Once that happens: bah-bye Gertie (my ball is always named Gertie, for some reason I like it better when she has a name, don't ask). There goes Gertie, rolling and rolling and rolling.. off the green and yeah.. you guessed it.. lands at the bottom of the grassy ditch. FRICK! So much for the GIR, I have to chip it up onto the green from the bottom of this darned ditch... soo irritated! At this point throwing my club (or perhaps entire golf bag) into the bay is the most innocent action I'm contemplating taking. I'm trying to be cool, be all "big girl golf" and then.. my sweetie says.. wait for it, waaaait for it... he says: "you hit it way too hard". Really? REALLY?!?! Wow... thank you for stating the obvious, because clearly I never would have figured that out. He knows that it makes me nuts when he states the obvious. Statements like that climb up my last nerve and screeeeeech their way back down. The thing is, words have the ability to lift you up or to push you down. I know that my sweetie would never push me down, he's the "wind beneath my drive" for pity's sake but for the love of gawd I can't take it!
Word to the wise: don't speak without your attorney present.
May 26, 2010
Lingo 101
In every sport, industry, workplace, family and group of friends, there exists a language specific to that group. It is easy to feel like an outsider when we hear people using terms and phrases that mean absolutely nothing to us. As a meeting planner I could have a 45 minute conversation comprised primarily of acronyms, for example: “I was reviewing the BEO’s and I think schoolies will fit better in that set to make sure there is enough room for the A/V and F&B”. See what I mean? Imagine being an intern working for me! Anyway, in terms of insider lingo, golf may be the worst offender, especially to someone who is new to the scene and already feels like an outsider. I suggest that if you want to assimilate quickly and easily into this foreign land, get a jump start on learning the language.
There are certain terms that my sweetie and I use and are specific to us. However, the terms are often rather catchy and by the end of a round, the other people in our foursome have likely adopted our vernacular as their own. And the people in our foursome have likely used some terms that we pick up and use repeatedly. Not only is it helpful to know the normal course lingo, but throwing out a unique term will impress your foursome (or at least make them laugh which is good in any case). Therefore, I am happy to provide a cheat sheet of golf vernacular (sometimes common, sometimes things my sweetie uses, or we’ve picked up from other player). Here goes:
You’ve got the boxes: This means, that “you have the honor of being first to tee off”. Normally, the person who had the lowest score on the last hole is the first to tee off at the next hole. So then, you say this to the person who has “earned” the boxes.
Grip it and rip it: This is sort of a way to let the person who’s up know they need to go ahead and tee off. Perhaps you were waiting for the group ahead to get off the green, but in any event, it’s like “ok, your turn, let’s go”.
Tasty two (or 3 or 4, etc.): When someone has had a particularly good hole, and putts it in you can say that it was a tasty “whatever they shot”. So, on a par 3, someone just birdied, you say “tasty two”.
Sandy: This is when you’ve gotten your ball out of the bunker and onto the green in one, then one putt.
Up and down: This is when you get “up” onto the green, and one putt “down” into the hole. When someone does this you say: “Nice up and down!” More often than not, during a tournament you’ll hear an announcer say “he’s got to get up and down to save par”, or something along those lines.
Settle: This is what you yell at your ball to stop rolling “for the love of gawd!”.
Sit Down: This means, that the ball is in the air (some people actually get killer hang time, whatever…) and they want the ball to come down so it doesn’t overshoot the aimed for landing place. You hear this most often on really windy days when someone made the error of using a high lofted club. I personally, have yet to beg my ball to sit down. I wish she’d get “up” in the first place. Sigh.
Pull the string (or put the brakes on): This refers to backspin. Backspin is often necessary when a ball has to be hit high or especially long to hit the green, or if the green has a downhill slope. When backspin is used correctly, the ball lands on the green and either rolls backwards, or stops in its tracks.
Tend the flag: When someone has a really long putt, or is chipping from the rough around the green, another person in the group should go to the flag and ask if the person swinging can see the hole, if yes, they will give you the thumbs upward motion and say “pull it”, or if they can’t see it, you stand at the hole, and as soon as they hit the ball you pull the pin.
Nice roll: When someone hits a nice putt, but perhaps does not land in the hole, you acknowledge that it was a nice roll. You can also say: “perfect distance”, or “you had the line”. This just means the putt was good regardless of them not sinking it.
Nice out: When someone has just gotten their ball out of the bunker on the first try you say nice out, pretty much regardless of the crappy place it may have landed.
There are a million more where these came from, but this is a good start. I figure that speaking the native language in any country helps us not to feel like we don’t belong.
Parlez-vous Golf?
There are certain terms that my sweetie and I use and are specific to us. However, the terms are often rather catchy and by the end of a round, the other people in our foursome have likely adopted our vernacular as their own. And the people in our foursome have likely used some terms that we pick up and use repeatedly. Not only is it helpful to know the normal course lingo, but throwing out a unique term will impress your foursome (or at least make them laugh which is good in any case). Therefore, I am happy to provide a cheat sheet of golf vernacular (sometimes common, sometimes things my sweetie uses, or we’ve picked up from other player). Here goes:
You’ve got the boxes: This means, that “you have the honor of being first to tee off”. Normally, the person who had the lowest score on the last hole is the first to tee off at the next hole. So then, you say this to the person who has “earned” the boxes.
Grip it and rip it: This is sort of a way to let the person who’s up know they need to go ahead and tee off. Perhaps you were waiting for the group ahead to get off the green, but in any event, it’s like “ok, your turn, let’s go”.
Tasty two (or 3 or 4, etc.): When someone has had a particularly good hole, and putts it in you can say that it was a tasty “whatever they shot”. So, on a par 3, someone just birdied, you say “tasty two”.
Sandy: This is when you’ve gotten your ball out of the bunker and onto the green in one, then one putt.
Up and down: This is when you get “up” onto the green, and one putt “down” into the hole. When someone does this you say: “Nice up and down!” More often than not, during a tournament you’ll hear an announcer say “he’s got to get up and down to save par”, or something along those lines.
Settle: This is what you yell at your ball to stop rolling “for the love of gawd!”.
Sit Down: This means, that the ball is in the air (some people actually get killer hang time, whatever…) and they want the ball to come down so it doesn’t overshoot the aimed for landing place. You hear this most often on really windy days when someone made the error of using a high lofted club. I personally, have yet to beg my ball to sit down. I wish she’d get “up” in the first place. Sigh.
Pull the string (or put the brakes on): This refers to backspin. Backspin is often necessary when a ball has to be hit high or especially long to hit the green, or if the green has a downhill slope. When backspin is used correctly, the ball lands on the green and either rolls backwards, or stops in its tracks.
Tend the flag: When someone has a really long putt, or is chipping from the rough around the green, another person in the group should go to the flag and ask if the person swinging can see the hole, if yes, they will give you the thumbs upward motion and say “pull it”, or if they can’t see it, you stand at the hole, and as soon as they hit the ball you pull the pin.
Nice roll: When someone hits a nice putt, but perhaps does not land in the hole, you acknowledge that it was a nice roll. You can also say: “perfect distance”, or “you had the line”. This just means the putt was good regardless of them not sinking it.
Nice out: When someone has just gotten their ball out of the bunker on the first try you say nice out, pretty much regardless of the crappy place it may have landed.
There are a million more where these came from, but this is a good start. I figure that speaking the native language in any country helps us not to feel like we don’t belong.
Parlez-vous Golf?
May 24, 2010
The Club
When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time at my grandparent’s house, and my sisters and I loved it. Once a month, my grandfather and his friends met for “boy’s poker night”. All of the men took turns hosting the evening, and I loved it when it was my Papa’s turn. Since San Francisco is so dense, pretty much all of the houses, regardless of district are built tall and narrow. The living area is upstairs but downstairs, usually right off of the basement (if you’re from SF, the garage is ALWAYS called the basement), is a room… ahhhh, the rumpus room. This lovely space was created with the specific intent of being a place to have cocktail parties, and little gatherings. This is also the best place for a boy’s night with the chips, the cards, libations and cigars. When poker night was at my grandparents, I made every excuse possible to hang out down there. I’d see if they needed anything from upstairs, bring snacks, say “oh, did you call me”, knowing they hadn’t. Anyway, the rumpus room was the fun place and I would rather hang out with the guys than with the ladies. Although I am the girliest of girls, the cheerleader, not the jock, I really don’t dig the whole hens clucking thing. I think this is one of the many things that has drawn me to golf.
Being a chick at the course has absolute advantages. Firstly, the men are not threatened by our presence, and perhaps appreciate the occasional whiff of the lightly (the operative word here is “lightly”) perfumed chickadee. However, the objective (at least for me) is not to bask in male attention… I’m really just trying to work on this darned swing. However, if I’m going to be the hen in the rooster house, I need to adopt an attitude of graciousness. For example, I often hit the driving range in the middle of a stressful day to clear my head. Sometimes I hit balls to work on a swing correction and get a handle on it before actually playing. But whatever the reason, I’m out there for some peace and quiet (oh and… unless you’re waiting on a heart for a transplant, leave your cell phone in the darned car!). Anyway, there I am, minding my own business hitting balls, trying to get into my little groove, and sure enough, the guy next to me, or walking by, or 10 stalls down, feels compelled to offer some coaching. Eh ehmmm.. look dude, I just saw that shank of all shanks you hit, so umm, I’m all set. Perhaps I could offer you a tip or two? Hehe…
It is just part of the chemical make up of men, to be Mr. Fix it. This is generally one of men’s most redeeming qualities, but sometimes it can be a little overwhelming. I’m quietly working on my swing, then I have to humor the guy who has just offered his advice by pretending to incorporate his suggestion into my swing, whilst he stands behind me and watches a few, taking any and all credit for a good shot.. siiiiiigh … Now this is an easy day. I have had range sessions that have included a small cluster of Mr. Fix It’s vying for their place as my personal Mr. Miyagi… and, the thing is, I already have one. But thanks guys, love ya!
It is important to remember what your instructor has taught you and practice that on the range. If you are taking lessons with a pro, or whoever is sort of in charge of fixing your flaws, keep in mind what they have suggested. It’s nice to have input if you are having an issue with one thing in particular that one day, and free advice is nice and all, but it can really create additional issues, and/or undo all the work you’ve already done with the correction. However, be polite and appreciative… the guys want to help and physiologically, they HAVE to help. Seriously… how cute is that?? Boys will be boys… and really have no choice in the matter.
Let it be.
Being a chick at the course has absolute advantages. Firstly, the men are not threatened by our presence, and perhaps appreciate the occasional whiff of the lightly (the operative word here is “lightly”) perfumed chickadee. However, the objective (at least for me) is not to bask in male attention… I’m really just trying to work on this darned swing. However, if I’m going to be the hen in the rooster house, I need to adopt an attitude of graciousness. For example, I often hit the driving range in the middle of a stressful day to clear my head. Sometimes I hit balls to work on a swing correction and get a handle on it before actually playing. But whatever the reason, I’m out there for some peace and quiet (oh and… unless you’re waiting on a heart for a transplant, leave your cell phone in the darned car!). Anyway, there I am, minding my own business hitting balls, trying to get into my little groove, and sure enough, the guy next to me, or walking by, or 10 stalls down, feels compelled to offer some coaching. Eh ehmmm.. look dude, I just saw that shank of all shanks you hit, so umm, I’m all set. Perhaps I could offer you a tip or two? Hehe…
It is just part of the chemical make up of men, to be Mr. Fix it. This is generally one of men’s most redeeming qualities, but sometimes it can be a little overwhelming. I’m quietly working on my swing, then I have to humor the guy who has just offered his advice by pretending to incorporate his suggestion into my swing, whilst he stands behind me and watches a few, taking any and all credit for a good shot.. siiiiiigh … Now this is an easy day. I have had range sessions that have included a small cluster of Mr. Fix It’s vying for their place as my personal Mr. Miyagi… and, the thing is, I already have one. But thanks guys, love ya!
It is important to remember what your instructor has taught you and practice that on the range. If you are taking lessons with a pro, or whoever is sort of in charge of fixing your flaws, keep in mind what they have suggested. It’s nice to have input if you are having an issue with one thing in particular that one day, and free advice is nice and all, but it can really create additional issues, and/or undo all the work you’ve already done with the correction. However, be polite and appreciative… the guys want to help and physiologically, they HAVE to help. Seriously… how cute is that?? Boys will be boys… and really have no choice in the matter.
Let it be.
May 19, 2010
Miss Manners
Golf is considered a "gentleman's game". I totally love that! But what on earth does that mean? Well, perhaps it speaks to the fact that the game is self policed (case in point: Brian Davis at the Heritage Tourney). Perhaps it means that the behavior of a gentleman is required. Hmmm... I think maybe it's a bit of both of these. Consider the PGA: there are times when a player misses a putt and although he looks a bit bummed, he doesn't let the "F" bombs fly. Also, most players (save Tiger) are friendly with their counterparts, sometimes offering words of advice about a shot or the break on a green. A true golfer, is one who competes against the foe unseen: the course itself.
I have played many rounds with people I've never met, however the dialogue repeats from foursome to foursome; with one exception... One weekend morning my sweetie and I were hitting the links, happy as could be. Two kids, about 12 years old or so, were paired with us. We didn't mind, and introduced ourselves, looking forward to a lovely game. Things began as normal, although I just couldn't hit the ball that day. I was sooo frustrated, but ya know.. that's just the way it goes. Anyway, one of the boys was a little more aggressive than the other, and he was giving his friend a bad time about pretty much any shot he hit. I get the whole "boys will be boys" thing, but this was just lame. I have to say that I don't think this whole scene was helping in terms with of the energy of the group, but I persevered.
At one point, about 3 holes from finishing the round, the aggressive kid made a really "impolite" comment to me. He said (with a snicker) "have you even parred a hole?"... omg.. I felt my stomach drop, my face redden, and I totally could have bawled (but I couldn't because there's the whole "no crying in golf" rule.. dammit!!). I looked at the kid and said, yes, (you little S*&T), I usually have at least one or two pars per round, AND, I birdied the ninth!" (I may or may not have ended this statement with a "HPMH!"). Needless to say, this totally bummed me out. When we got to the last hole, we were wating to tee off. I was trying to let it go, but seriously, I just couldn't. Finally, I went all "mommy" on his ass. I said "you know what? You totally hurt my feelings, and that was really uncool, and it's not the way to play golf". I explained to him that the whole thing about the course, is that everyone encourages one another and does NOT make someone feel badly about a poor shot. Seriously? Do we not make ourselves feel badly enough?!?! I further explained to the kid (I was gaining speed now, chooo chooo!), that the non-stop crap he gave his friend throughout the round, went beyond "giving your friend a bad time" and that his attitude had no place on the golf course. (I may or may not have told him that his mother would be horrified at his behavior). So take that you little s*&^head! Anyway, I happened to hit a kickin' shot off the tee and that kid was not only chagrined, but chimed in with "great shot!", yada yada. Sigh... Anyway, he totally chunked his shot and oh how I wanted to point and laugh! Eh ehmm.. However, being the big girl golfer, I opted for the "no worries, you're just setting it up for your next shot."
The funniest thing? Everytime we've seen that kid since, he bends over backwards to go all Eddie Haskell to me. One round, he was a hole ahead of us and saw a few of my tee shots and putts, and made absolute sure to be Mr. Cheerleader.
The bottom line here is this: the Golden Rule applies to the links. Learn it. Live it. And if you don't, please don't play with me, because: a: I get a headache when I have to hold back tears and b:) I'll shame you into sending your mom flowers.
I'm just sayin'...
I have played many rounds with people I've never met, however the dialogue repeats from foursome to foursome; with one exception... One weekend morning my sweetie and I were hitting the links, happy as could be. Two kids, about 12 years old or so, were paired with us. We didn't mind, and introduced ourselves, looking forward to a lovely game. Things began as normal, although I just couldn't hit the ball that day. I was sooo frustrated, but ya know.. that's just the way it goes. Anyway, one of the boys was a little more aggressive than the other, and he was giving his friend a bad time about pretty much any shot he hit. I get the whole "boys will be boys" thing, but this was just lame. I have to say that I don't think this whole scene was helping in terms with of the energy of the group, but I persevered.
At one point, about 3 holes from finishing the round, the aggressive kid made a really "impolite" comment to me. He said (with a snicker) "have you even parred a hole?"... omg.. I felt my stomach drop, my face redden, and I totally could have bawled (but I couldn't because there's the whole "no crying in golf" rule.. dammit!!). I looked at the kid and said, yes, (you little S*&T), I usually have at least one or two pars per round, AND, I birdied the ninth!" (I may or may not have ended this statement with a "HPMH!"). Needless to say, this totally bummed me out. When we got to the last hole, we were wating to tee off. I was trying to let it go, but seriously, I just couldn't. Finally, I went all "mommy" on his ass. I said "you know what? You totally hurt my feelings, and that was really uncool, and it's not the way to play golf". I explained to him that the whole thing about the course, is that everyone encourages one another and does NOT make someone feel badly about a poor shot. Seriously? Do we not make ourselves feel badly enough?!?! I further explained to the kid (I was gaining speed now, chooo chooo!), that the non-stop crap he gave his friend throughout the round, went beyond "giving your friend a bad time" and that his attitude had no place on the golf course. (I may or may not have told him that his mother would be horrified at his behavior). So take that you little s*&^head! Anyway, I happened to hit a kickin' shot off the tee and that kid was not only chagrined, but chimed in with "great shot!", yada yada. Sigh... Anyway, he totally chunked his shot and oh how I wanted to point and laugh! Eh ehmm.. However, being the big girl golfer, I opted for the "no worries, you're just setting it up for your next shot."
The funniest thing? Everytime we've seen that kid since, he bends over backwards to go all Eddie Haskell to me. One round, he was a hole ahead of us and saw a few of my tee shots and putts, and made absolute sure to be Mr. Cheerleader.
The bottom line here is this: the Golden Rule applies to the links. Learn it. Live it. And if you don't, please don't play with me, because: a: I get a headache when I have to hold back tears and b:) I'll shame you into sending your mom flowers.
I'm just sayin'...
May 17, 2010
All Quiet
One of my favorite things to do, is to attend a PGA Tournament... I absolutely love the energy of the gallery. My sweetie and I have attended the AT&T ProAm at Pebble Beach, which has now become our Valentine's Day "thing". Forget flowers, candy and diamonds (OK, scratch that last one)... bring on the golf!
Before I started playing, I would have preferred a root canal over watching golf on TV. Now that I am "in the know", I enjoy it. I love the tradition and the pomp and circumstance of it all. However, actually being in the gallery is an experience all it's own.
One of the main focuses of my trip to Hilton Head (aside from the hotel tours, of course) was the Heritage Tournament. The second day of the trip began with breakfast and a couple of hotel tours (not to mention the most hideous hangover I've had in years), and the afternoon was dedicated to the tournament. When we arrived at Harbour Town, I was soooo excited. I love this course and have played it many times (ok on Wii Golf, but so what?). We slowly made our way to one of the two sky boxes that were hosted by our hotel hosts. As I sat in the front row of the sky box on the 17th green (sipping a beer, hoping the hair of the dog would set me right), I was in my glory. Of course I was texting my sweetie telling him to look for me on TV (and yes, bitterly missing him). In that moment, in that lovely quiet space of the green, watching golf's most amazing players hit the ball, all I could think was: "wow, my job does not suck!"
The tournament was really exciting, and I had an opportunity to see all of the players walk off the 18th green, which means one thing: Autographs!! woohoo!! I completely filled my visor with names I cannot read (I kept a list to refer to)... but one I shall not forget: Jim Furyk, aka: "winnah, winnah!"
The autograph thing is tricky at a tournament. You cannot ask for one from a player until they are done with their round (they are working, people!). However, ProAm's are a little bit different, at least for the amateurs. The AT&T at Pebble usually has a fair amount of celebrities as the amateurs. Sometimes that is really cool (last year, Justin Timberlake played!), but at least for me, that is a small part of the draw (if any). Bill Murray is a standard fixture at this tournament, and he definitely works the crowd for a laugh. Sometimes the celebrities will come up to the rope as they are walking the fairway and sign autographs. I like Bill Murray as much as anyone I suppose, and was following the group he was in (not because of him, because he was playing with Rocco Mediate whom I love, love love!). Anyway, at one point Bill came to the ropes and was giving autographs. I had my trusty white visor in hand (and my own Sharpie), and politely waited my turn. Eh ehmmm... hello? Bill? You have made eye contact with me, signed for people on either side of me, and yet, completely dissed me. Why oh why? I wondered if perhaps the Nike "swoosh" on the visor was off putting. I couldn't figure it out! There I was, minding my own business, being polite. I was annoyed but was over it, and tried again not one, but two more times. Each time he did the same thing! HMPH! Well, after filling my visor with the names of the amazing players present at Heritage, including the winnah, to Bill Murray I say: "Put that on your tee and drive it"! I will not be asking for his autograph again. Nope. Never. Carl, the greens keeper would never have such an attitude...
Have Sharpie, will travel...
Before I started playing, I would have preferred a root canal over watching golf on TV. Now that I am "in the know", I enjoy it. I love the tradition and the pomp and circumstance of it all. However, actually being in the gallery is an experience all it's own.
One of the main focuses of my trip to Hilton Head (aside from the hotel tours, of course) was the Heritage Tournament. The second day of the trip began with breakfast and a couple of hotel tours (not to mention the most hideous hangover I've had in years), and the afternoon was dedicated to the tournament. When we arrived at Harbour Town, I was soooo excited. I love this course and have played it many times (ok on Wii Golf, but so what?). We slowly made our way to one of the two sky boxes that were hosted by our hotel hosts. As I sat in the front row of the sky box on the 17th green (sipping a beer, hoping the hair of the dog would set me right), I was in my glory. Of course I was texting my sweetie telling him to look for me on TV (and yes, bitterly missing him). In that moment, in that lovely quiet space of the green, watching golf's most amazing players hit the ball, all I could think was: "wow, my job does not suck!"
The tournament was really exciting, and I had an opportunity to see all of the players walk off the 18th green, which means one thing: Autographs!! woohoo!! I completely filled my visor with names I cannot read (I kept a list to refer to)... but one I shall not forget: Jim Furyk, aka: "winnah, winnah!"
The autograph thing is tricky at a tournament. You cannot ask for one from a player until they are done with their round (they are working, people!). However, ProAm's are a little bit different, at least for the amateurs. The AT&T at Pebble usually has a fair amount of celebrities as the amateurs. Sometimes that is really cool (last year, Justin Timberlake played!), but at least for me, that is a small part of the draw (if any). Bill Murray is a standard fixture at this tournament, and he definitely works the crowd for a laugh. Sometimes the celebrities will come up to the rope as they are walking the fairway and sign autographs. I like Bill Murray as much as anyone I suppose, and was following the group he was in (not because of him, because he was playing with Rocco Mediate whom I love, love love!). Anyway, at one point Bill came to the ropes and was giving autographs. I had my trusty white visor in hand (and my own Sharpie), and politely waited my turn. Eh ehmmm... hello? Bill? You have made eye contact with me, signed for people on either side of me, and yet, completely dissed me. Why oh why? I wondered if perhaps the Nike "swoosh" on the visor was off putting. I couldn't figure it out! There I was, minding my own business, being polite. I was annoyed but was over it, and tried again not one, but two more times. Each time he did the same thing! HMPH! Well, after filling my visor with the names of the amazing players present at Heritage, including the winnah, to Bill Murray I say: "Put that on your tee and drive it"! I will not be asking for his autograph again. Nope. Never. Carl, the greens keeper would never have such an attitude...
Have Sharpie, will travel...
May 14, 2010
HHeaven
Every so often I am invited by a convention and visitor's bureau to attend something called a "Fam". A Fam is a familiarization tour which allows meeting planners to visit a city and tour their hotels in an effort to educate us on their offerings. The point of course, is that we are then able to recommend these properties to clients and bring business their way. I was recently invited to attend a fam on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina and felt like I had won the lottery!
Hilton Head is an island about 12 miles long and 5 miles wide. This relatively small geographical space is home to 24 world class golf courses... omg. Are you kidding me? This is literally golf heaven! In addition to hotel tours, the tourism bureau put together a four day Hilton Head experience, complete with tee times and VIP passes to the Heritage tournament! I have no words... sigh
Hilton Head does have an airport, however when travelling from most cities it makes the most sense to fly into Savannah (the cutest airport ever!) and drive the 35 minutes to Hilton Head. Although I arrived quite late in the evening, I could see the non-stop golf course entrances for the duration of the drive.
The program began and of course I toured all of the hotels and became familiar with the island from a meetings perspective. However, I was chomping at the bit to get out on one of those amazing greens and tee it up. Thankfully, I had my first opportunity the afternoon of the first day of the trip. Five of us headed out to the Palmetto Hall Plantation (every "area" is called a plantation even though they aren't actual plantations). We had a t-time at the Arthur Hills course, which is fricking amazing. Anyway, we were a little bit short on time, so we decided on a scramble, hoping to get to all 18 holes.
Everyone was in a jovial mood as we waited our turn at the first tee. There is something about looking down the first fairway (at least for me), that evokes a kind of reverence. This was also the first full 18 hole course I had ever played so it was an extremely thrilling moment as well as slightly overwhelming. I had a set of rental clubs on the cart, and I hadn't had an opportunity to hit a bucket first so I had no idea how things would go. And then... I was up.
I grabbed my 3 wood because that is the club I am most comfortable with (I can't hit my driver to save my life). I teed it up... addressed the ball... and then.. I smacked the living daylights out of this ball! omg.. long and straight with that sound of the ball connecting with the sweet spot. The joy! The sheer exhilaration! Oh, if only my sweetie had been there... he would have beamed like a prod papa. Sigh.. how I missed him that day.
After a few successful t shots with the 3 wood, I decided to pull the big dog out and let him eat. The driver was a King Cobra and I thought, well, let's see how this works out. I hit the best t-shot I have ever hit and it flew for 200 yards! As I stood on the tee, holding my finish, I was mesmerized by the flight of the ball. I couldn't believe that I had done that, I mean really, I couldn't believe it. In the scramble format, we played the best ball through to the green. How utterly shocked was I, that many (perhaps most) of the t-shots we played from were mine?!?! Are you freaking kidding me?!?! (Note to self: save pennies for new driver).
We were in a hurry so we only played 14 holes, but the thrill of that first round filled me with a warmth I can't describe. We finished the round, headed back to our respective hotels (oh how I needed a nap), and prepared to head to dinner, followed by a comedy club. By the time I arrived back at my hotel that night, I was utterly exhausted, yet I had a hard time falling asleep. I couldn't help but replay the day in my head over and over again. The sound of my well struck drive eventually lulled me to sleep and when morning came, I was ready for Harbour Town!
Let the angels sing.
Hilton Head is an island about 12 miles long and 5 miles wide. This relatively small geographical space is home to 24 world class golf courses... omg. Are you kidding me? This is literally golf heaven! In addition to hotel tours, the tourism bureau put together a four day Hilton Head experience, complete with tee times and VIP passes to the Heritage tournament! I have no words... sigh
Hilton Head does have an airport, however when travelling from most cities it makes the most sense to fly into Savannah (the cutest airport ever!) and drive the 35 minutes to Hilton Head. Although I arrived quite late in the evening, I could see the non-stop golf course entrances for the duration of the drive.
The program began and of course I toured all of the hotels and became familiar with the island from a meetings perspective. However, I was chomping at the bit to get out on one of those amazing greens and tee it up. Thankfully, I had my first opportunity the afternoon of the first day of the trip. Five of us headed out to the Palmetto Hall Plantation (every "area" is called a plantation even though they aren't actual plantations). We had a t-time at the Arthur Hills course, which is fricking amazing. Anyway, we were a little bit short on time, so we decided on a scramble, hoping to get to all 18 holes.
Everyone was in a jovial mood as we waited our turn at the first tee. There is something about looking down the first fairway (at least for me), that evokes a kind of reverence. This was also the first full 18 hole course I had ever played so it was an extremely thrilling moment as well as slightly overwhelming. I had a set of rental clubs on the cart, and I hadn't had an opportunity to hit a bucket first so I had no idea how things would go. And then... I was up.
I grabbed my 3 wood because that is the club I am most comfortable with (I can't hit my driver to save my life). I teed it up... addressed the ball... and then.. I smacked the living daylights out of this ball! omg.. long and straight with that sound of the ball connecting with the sweet spot. The joy! The sheer exhilaration! Oh, if only my sweetie had been there... he would have beamed like a prod papa. Sigh.. how I missed him that day.
After a few successful t shots with the 3 wood, I decided to pull the big dog out and let him eat. The driver was a King Cobra and I thought, well, let's see how this works out. I hit the best t-shot I have ever hit and it flew for 200 yards! As I stood on the tee, holding my finish, I was mesmerized by the flight of the ball. I couldn't believe that I had done that, I mean really, I couldn't believe it. In the scramble format, we played the best ball through to the green. How utterly shocked was I, that many (perhaps most) of the t-shots we played from were mine?!?! Are you freaking kidding me?!?! (Note to self: save pennies for new driver).
We were in a hurry so we only played 14 holes, but the thrill of that first round filled me with a warmth I can't describe. We finished the round, headed back to our respective hotels (oh how I needed a nap), and prepared to head to dinner, followed by a comedy club. By the time I arrived back at my hotel that night, I was utterly exhausted, yet I had a hard time falling asleep. I couldn't help but replay the day in my head over and over again. The sound of my well struck drive eventually lulled me to sleep and when morning came, I was ready for Harbour Town!
Let the angels sing.
May 12, 2010
Feel the beat
Golf is all about consistency. The objective is to have a consistent swing, that makes solid connection with the ball which will hopefully land where we're aiming. Oh it sounds so easy! I have no problem hitting 5 shots in a row that sound great when the ball is struck, and then I watch in horror as my ball makes a right hand turn and lands in the parallel fairway. Sigh. It kills me. So if I can repeat that swing consistently, why I can't I repeat the swing that smashes the ball long and straight down my own fairway? It's quite a dilemma and has caused more than one unladylike word to fly out of my mouth. My swing mechanics are surprisingly good. It's the rhythm that I have trouble with.
When we address the ball and begin the back swing, there are a million little pieces that need to come together to produce a good shot. However, we can't think about all of those things because it jacks up our rhythm. It is difficult to relax and not try to hit the ball as hard as humanly possible, when we are supposed to let the club do the work. Maybe I'm too much of a control freak, I don't know, but I have a hard time letting go. There are days when the rhythm flows and days when it does not. I have finally realized that this is the same for everyone, so I've stopped beating myself up about it.
There is a rhythm in everything we do: daily life, work, driving, etc. Some days, it seems like everything is going right. We are productive at work, household chores are finished easily, and it isn't hard to find a smile on our face. As with our back swing, our daily lives are filled with little pieces that we are trying to get together. Situations arise that are beyond our control and we have to deal with it, but it impacts our rhythm. We get up in the morning with an expectation of what the day ahead will be. We have our to-do lists and intend upon getting things done. Nothing is more frustrating than when unexpected circumstances arise, which throw your entire plan for the day out the window. That can cause a good degree of stress and frustration. This is the time, to breathe for a moment, reassess, and deal. We are not in control of every situation that presents itself, and should perhaps stop trying so hard. Each bump in the road is just a bump. If we freak out about it we allow it to negatively impact our rhythm for the rest of the day, week, or even year.
It seems that if I have a round wherein my tee shots are a thing of beauty, I can't make a single putt. Other days, I can't get off the tee, but my short game is on fire. I have a choice: I can beat myself up about what isn't going well, or I can revel in what is. The same holds true with whatever is going on in my life. I can focus on whatever happened that has completely thrown my day for a loop, or I can choose to focus on how well I dealt with it. There are a lot of things I have no control over, but if I go with the flow, my rhythm will find its way back.
...and a 5,6,7,8...
When we address the ball and begin the back swing, there are a million little pieces that need to come together to produce a good shot. However, we can't think about all of those things because it jacks up our rhythm. It is difficult to relax and not try to hit the ball as hard as humanly possible, when we are supposed to let the club do the work. Maybe I'm too much of a control freak, I don't know, but I have a hard time letting go. There are days when the rhythm flows and days when it does not. I have finally realized that this is the same for everyone, so I've stopped beating myself up about it.
There is a rhythm in everything we do: daily life, work, driving, etc. Some days, it seems like everything is going right. We are productive at work, household chores are finished easily, and it isn't hard to find a smile on our face. As with our back swing, our daily lives are filled with little pieces that we are trying to get together. Situations arise that are beyond our control and we have to deal with it, but it impacts our rhythm. We get up in the morning with an expectation of what the day ahead will be. We have our to-do lists and intend upon getting things done. Nothing is more frustrating than when unexpected circumstances arise, which throw your entire plan for the day out the window. That can cause a good degree of stress and frustration. This is the time, to breathe for a moment, reassess, and deal. We are not in control of every situation that presents itself, and should perhaps stop trying so hard. Each bump in the road is just a bump. If we freak out about it we allow it to negatively impact our rhythm for the rest of the day, week, or even year.
It seems that if I have a round wherein my tee shots are a thing of beauty, I can't make a single putt. Other days, I can't get off the tee, but my short game is on fire. I have a choice: I can beat myself up about what isn't going well, or I can revel in what is. The same holds true with whatever is going on in my life. I can focus on whatever happened that has completely thrown my day for a loop, or I can choose to focus on how well I dealt with it. There are a lot of things I have no control over, but if I go with the flow, my rhythm will find its way back.
...and a 5,6,7,8...
May 11, 2010
Priorities
One of the best things about golf, is the social aspect. These days we are all so busy that it's hard to get together for drinks or dinner or whatever... The cool thing about golf, is that it's an excuse to make plans with people and what golfer doesn't have a time allotment budgeted into the weekly schedule?
Sixteen years ago, my twinster and brother in law moved about an hour away from me. To most people this probably isn't a big deal, but I was devastated. The thing is, even though an hour isn't that long of a drive (ok, it's an hour without traffic and there is pretty much always traffic covering that route)... but you can't be in each other's every day life. Meaning, we can't just pop by one another's house to borrow this or that, I can't drive my neices to or fro school or dance when my sis has scheduling issues, and we don't meet for coffee on Saturday mornings. This... makes me sad.
Whenever I get to pick what I want to do for the day (birthdays, etc.) well duh.. I pick golf! I don't have many golf chums, since neither my family nor my friends play. However, several months back, my twinster and I went to the driving range and hit a bucket of balls. She had never swung a club and with my incessant blathering about how fun it is, she wanted to give it a whirl. Although I am a fledgling, my guru has taught me well, and in terms of mechanics I am well versed in what you are supposed to do. Although each time I swing a club, it's anyone's guess as to whethere or not I actually pull all the elements together. The good news, I guess, is that I usually know exactly what I've done wrong and try to focus on a correction.
Since we are twins, my sis and I really "get" each other and speak the same language. I started her as my sweetie started me, with her 9-iron and a half swing. The only tricky thing is that although we are both left handed, I golf righty and she golfs lefty. We persevered and she was able to make some good ball contact and did well.
For Mother's Day I decided that my sis and brother in law should come down to my house early and that the four of us could play 9 before the rest of the fam arrived at my house for lunch. Since it was Mother's Day, we figured it was ok to do whatever we wanted. Once that was decided I set about the process of nudging (stalking, bullying) my brother in law to buy my sis a new set of clubs. It was a mildly painful process but we got it done!
Much to my neices chagrin, my sis and bro in law arrived at my house Sunday morning, ready to play. My sweetie's dad was still in town so we had a perfect 5-some. We got to the course and I was soooo excited! My sister was a little nervous but my bro in law was the one with the real jitters. Thankfully we got off the first tee without incident, and my sis played from the forward tees using her 9-iron and half swing. She wasn't going to get to the green in one, but this process helped her to get through the round without feeling frustrated and giving up. They both did well and now they have been officially bitten with the golf bug.
The thing about golf is... it is an excuse to get together with people. I was able to spend a lovely Sunday morning with my sister, sans kids. On the golf course, there is no room for serious conversation and the everyday stresses of life are forgotten. The golf course often feels to me, like a safe place to "get away". Spending time with the important people in your life, without the kids needing something, without the phone ringing or the television interrupting, is a forgotten concept. A round of golf is the grown up equivalent to "playing outside". When we were kids, that's all we did and all we wanted to do. As adults, we forget to unplug from the Matrix and enjoy the simple pleasures of life. When we play golf, we have the opportunity to forget about work, the bills, and the bathroom that needs to be cleaned. In this world of technology driven overstimulation, we have forgotten the importance of peacefulness. The golf course allows us to find it again, and gives us an excuse to nurture the little kid we all have buried inside...
Golf: it does a body good
Sixteen years ago, my twinster and brother in law moved about an hour away from me. To most people this probably isn't a big deal, but I was devastated. The thing is, even though an hour isn't that long of a drive (ok, it's an hour without traffic and there is pretty much always traffic covering that route)... but you can't be in each other's every day life. Meaning, we can't just pop by one another's house to borrow this or that, I can't drive my neices to or fro school or dance when my sis has scheduling issues, and we don't meet for coffee on Saturday mornings. This... makes me sad.
Whenever I get to pick what I want to do for the day (birthdays, etc.) well duh.. I pick golf! I don't have many golf chums, since neither my family nor my friends play. However, several months back, my twinster and I went to the driving range and hit a bucket of balls. She had never swung a club and with my incessant blathering about how fun it is, she wanted to give it a whirl. Although I am a fledgling, my guru has taught me well, and in terms of mechanics I am well versed in what you are supposed to do. Although each time I swing a club, it's anyone's guess as to whethere or not I actually pull all the elements together. The good news, I guess, is that I usually know exactly what I've done wrong and try to focus on a correction.
Since we are twins, my sis and I really "get" each other and speak the same language. I started her as my sweetie started me, with her 9-iron and a half swing. The only tricky thing is that although we are both left handed, I golf righty and she golfs lefty. We persevered and she was able to make some good ball contact and did well.
For Mother's Day I decided that my sis and brother in law should come down to my house early and that the four of us could play 9 before the rest of the fam arrived at my house for lunch. Since it was Mother's Day, we figured it was ok to do whatever we wanted. Once that was decided I set about the process of nudging (stalking, bullying) my brother in law to buy my sis a new set of clubs. It was a mildly painful process but we got it done!
Much to my neices chagrin, my sis and bro in law arrived at my house Sunday morning, ready to play. My sweetie's dad was still in town so we had a perfect 5-some. We got to the course and I was soooo excited! My sister was a little nervous but my bro in law was the one with the real jitters. Thankfully we got off the first tee without incident, and my sis played from the forward tees using her 9-iron and half swing. She wasn't going to get to the green in one, but this process helped her to get through the round without feeling frustrated and giving up. They both did well and now they have been officially bitten with the golf bug.
The thing about golf is... it is an excuse to get together with people. I was able to spend a lovely Sunday morning with my sister, sans kids. On the golf course, there is no room for serious conversation and the everyday stresses of life are forgotten. The golf course often feels to me, like a safe place to "get away". Spending time with the important people in your life, without the kids needing something, without the phone ringing or the television interrupting, is a forgotten concept. A round of golf is the grown up equivalent to "playing outside". When we were kids, that's all we did and all we wanted to do. As adults, we forget to unplug from the Matrix and enjoy the simple pleasures of life. When we play golf, we have the opportunity to forget about work, the bills, and the bathroom that needs to be cleaned. In this world of technology driven overstimulation, we have forgotten the importance of peacefulness. The golf course allows us to find it again, and gives us an excuse to nurture the little kid we all have buried inside...
Golf: it does a body good
May 10, 2010
Life imitates golf
I find myself fascinated with the amount of psychology found within the game of golf. I am aware of how golf impacts me psychologically as well as how my psychology affects my game. Whilst on the mission to shoot a 36 at my itty home course, I have been surprised at how much pressure I've put on myself. The phenomenom is that pretty much everyone who swings a club does the same thing. Golf is a very personal and sometimes lonely venture. If you have a bad day the results reflect it and you haven't got ten other people on your team to pick up the slack. It's kind of like when someone writes a song, or paints a painting. He or she has put their heart and soul into something and once complete although the artist may have felt that they've just done their best work, there is usually a serious amount of insecurity when showing the final product to others. The thing is, there is nothing and no one to blame if your work is not well received, it's all you. The hard part about that is that when an artist shows their work, they are baring their soul before others. I think most of us experience the fight or flight response when in such a vulnerable position, and breath a sigh of relief when the reactions of others to the work is positive. This is how most of us feel when we address the ball... It's all about the judgement.
This past weekend I played a full 18 with the bf and his dad. I was so excited to play and didn't think I was all that nervous, because his dad is really encouraging. Sigh... on the front 9, I couldn't hit a ball from the tee, from the fairway or on the green. The nervous quotient shot through the roof when I stepped up to the first tee. Not only did I have my guys watching, but the course marshall was standing there as well as a cluster of golfers waiting to be up (all men, gulp) were watching. I grabbed my driver, stepped up to the tee and hit the worst shot in the history of golf. I totally topped the ball and it didn't even make it out of the box. Can you say "totally fricking mortified?" I felt the flush in my face and got the "tinglies". Eh ehmmm... so of course I had to do it again and it was hardly better than the first. Deep breath.
As we pressed on, I was horrified that I couldn't "find my swing". I mean, I am a fledgling so I don't have dreams of grandeur but come on! The shots I was missing were ones I can totally handle and I was frustrated to say the least. The back nine was 8 shots better than the front, and I at least hit a few good shots but yeah... I shot a 130. The sad part about that is that this score is actually in line with what I've done in previous rounds. The thing is, if I hit a great shot off the tee, get to the green in the appropriate amount of strokes and then choke with my putter, I can totally get over it. I still feel proud that I struck the ball well and had some good shots. It's like, missing a chip shot by totally topping the ball, but it somehow finds the cup. This happened to me once and although I was excited about it, it was a horrible shot, so I didn't feel proud like "yay, I chipped it in". More like, that was a hilarious stroke of luck. But I mean, zero skill required, I just got lucky. In terms of how I feel about the round I'm playing, good shots make me feel good, bad shots make me feel bad, regardless of the end result. It's like making a cake from scratch versus out of a box... if you add the three ingredients listed on the back of the box, stir it up and throw it in the oven, how good should you feel when everyone raves about it? It was a good mix, but did not require any cooking talent.
I am not a fan of Tiger Woods and never have been. I will admit that his golf skills are second to none (well, they were anyway), but as a human being I have little if any respect for the guy. His win stats reflect his skill of course, but that guy has pulled off some shots that just shouldn't have been successful. The thing about Tiger is that he is a master at visualization and when combined with his skill, he has managed to get the luckiest "kicks" and lies and successful shots out of situations that just shouldn't produce good results. That was then.. this is now.
Everyone has heard about his scandal (really, who is surprised by this?). He took some time off and recently started playing again. His game has gone to absolute hell and every golf analyst is talking about the possible reasons why. Yesterday, he withdrew from a tournament less than halfway through the round citing "a neck injury". Yeah. Uh huh. Sure. As human beings, whatever we're feeling on the inside has to have a physical manifestation of some sort. When someone has just begun a relationship, he or she may lose weight, gain weight, have great hair days and exude an overall glow. Suddenly everything at work is just perfect and they look and feel fantastic. Now then, the person going through a breakup is a completely different story. There is probably a weight gain or loss, their face breaks out and work is nothing but drama. Tiger has had a shift in energy, both his own as well as his "public's". He doesn't have the support he's always had and the energy in the gallery is not pulling for him to win. Hence the "injury".
The point is, if Tiger Woods can miss a cut or shoot a 79 because of his shift in energy, why do we think that stepping up to the tee filled with angst and insecurity will produce a perfect golf shot? Why the heck are we so sure that the world is judging our swing and that we are somehow "less than" if we top it, pull it, hook it, slice it or (God forbid) shank it? Who freaking cares? It's a game!
In our lives, we need to take each day as it comes, expect the best, but plan for the worst. In golf, we need to do the same. Address the ball planning for the most magnificent shot we've ever hit... every single time. Enjoy the lovely day, enjoy the people you're with and just take it, one shot at a time.
Be the ball. Life is good.
This past weekend I played a full 18 with the bf and his dad. I was so excited to play and didn't think I was all that nervous, because his dad is really encouraging. Sigh... on the front 9, I couldn't hit a ball from the tee, from the fairway or on the green. The nervous quotient shot through the roof when I stepped up to the first tee. Not only did I have my guys watching, but the course marshall was standing there as well as a cluster of golfers waiting to be up (all men, gulp) were watching. I grabbed my driver, stepped up to the tee and hit the worst shot in the history of golf. I totally topped the ball and it didn't even make it out of the box. Can you say "totally fricking mortified?" I felt the flush in my face and got the "tinglies". Eh ehmmm... so of course I had to do it again and it was hardly better than the first. Deep breath.
As we pressed on, I was horrified that I couldn't "find my swing". I mean, I am a fledgling so I don't have dreams of grandeur but come on! The shots I was missing were ones I can totally handle and I was frustrated to say the least. The back nine was 8 shots better than the front, and I at least hit a few good shots but yeah... I shot a 130. The sad part about that is that this score is actually in line with what I've done in previous rounds. The thing is, if I hit a great shot off the tee, get to the green in the appropriate amount of strokes and then choke with my putter, I can totally get over it. I still feel proud that I struck the ball well and had some good shots. It's like, missing a chip shot by totally topping the ball, but it somehow finds the cup. This happened to me once and although I was excited about it, it was a horrible shot, so I didn't feel proud like "yay, I chipped it in". More like, that was a hilarious stroke of luck. But I mean, zero skill required, I just got lucky. In terms of how I feel about the round I'm playing, good shots make me feel good, bad shots make me feel bad, regardless of the end result. It's like making a cake from scratch versus out of a box... if you add the three ingredients listed on the back of the box, stir it up and throw it in the oven, how good should you feel when everyone raves about it? It was a good mix, but did not require any cooking talent.
I am not a fan of Tiger Woods and never have been. I will admit that his golf skills are second to none (well, they were anyway), but as a human being I have little if any respect for the guy. His win stats reflect his skill of course, but that guy has pulled off some shots that just shouldn't have been successful. The thing about Tiger is that he is a master at visualization and when combined with his skill, he has managed to get the luckiest "kicks" and lies and successful shots out of situations that just shouldn't produce good results. That was then.. this is now.
Everyone has heard about his scandal (really, who is surprised by this?). He took some time off and recently started playing again. His game has gone to absolute hell and every golf analyst is talking about the possible reasons why. Yesterday, he withdrew from a tournament less than halfway through the round citing "a neck injury". Yeah. Uh huh. Sure. As human beings, whatever we're feeling on the inside has to have a physical manifestation of some sort. When someone has just begun a relationship, he or she may lose weight, gain weight, have great hair days and exude an overall glow. Suddenly everything at work is just perfect and they look and feel fantastic. Now then, the person going through a breakup is a completely different story. There is probably a weight gain or loss, their face breaks out and work is nothing but drama. Tiger has had a shift in energy, both his own as well as his "public's". He doesn't have the support he's always had and the energy in the gallery is not pulling for him to win. Hence the "injury".
The point is, if Tiger Woods can miss a cut or shoot a 79 because of his shift in energy, why do we think that stepping up to the tee filled with angst and insecurity will produce a perfect golf shot? Why the heck are we so sure that the world is judging our swing and that we are somehow "less than" if we top it, pull it, hook it, slice it or (God forbid) shank it? Who freaking cares? It's a game!
In our lives, we need to take each day as it comes, expect the best, but plan for the worst. In golf, we need to do the same. Address the ball planning for the most magnificent shot we've ever hit... every single time. Enjoy the lovely day, enjoy the people you're with and just take it, one shot at a time.
Be the ball. Life is good.
May 07, 2010
Baby Steps
When I finally began the process of learning to play golf, I found myself being incredibly impatient. I guess I sort of thought that I would learn how to swing, hit a few buckets at the range, and hit the tee box. I didn't expect to be Paula Creamer or anything, but how long is it supposed to take before you can say "I am a golfer?!?!" So very frustrating... After a couple of months (yes months) of hitting balls I was finally ready to play a round. The driving range with a lovely little 9-hole par 3 course is about two minutes from my house (total score). At this point I hadn't really done anything besides hit my 9 iron, but that was perfectly fine to use for almost every shot. I played from the forward tee's which made the already short holes seem like munchkin land. This was actually good because although I was chomping at the bit to play, I was completely freaked out!
I made it through and thankfully we didn't keep score (but I did birdie the 9th hole, which was a total fluke). At that point I didn't have any real expectations in terms of skill, I just wanted to be part of the club. My sweetie and I have been playing that little course for about a year and a half now. I have definitely improved, but again... I am not exactly a threat to Paula Creamer. We had also added a couple of other courses to my repertoire, but I just felt like I was sort of a pretend golfer... and that totally bummed me out.
I started harping on the bf about playing "big girl golf" a year or so into it. Bless this man for his patience! There was definitely a "whine" factor involved. He decided that I could play a full 18 with par 4's and 5's as soon as I shot a 36 at this little course. Eh ehm... easier said than done (damned putter). I have come pretty close, but sadly, no cigar. To make matters worse, every single time we played I would feel this overwhelming pressure to shoot the damned 36. Honestly, this started taking some fun out of it for me, and ya know... nothing wreaks havoc on your confidence like hearing "you're not good enough". Of course no one said these words, but I felt like I was this remedial golfer and assumed that I was the only person on the planet who loved this game as much as I did, yet couldn't graduate to big girl golf. In my head all I could hear was "you suck". Sigh...
I think that perhaps this was a little bit evident because one Saturday morning, we were heading out to play. I assumed we were playing at our second most frequented 9 hole and sat back for the short ride. Well, after yelling at my bf because "you missed the exit! Now we have to go across the Golden Gate Bridge!" I realized that he had a little something up his sleeve. We drove north for more than an hour and finally reached our destination. The course is called Northwood and although it is 9 holes it does have par 4's and 5's. It also happens to be in the top 3, 9 hole courses in the country and after spending the day walking down the fairway surrounded by redwoods I could see why. Oh... and we played 2 rounds which means: Yahtzee! Big girl golf!!
Patience is a virtue I've yet to find within, but if anything is going to drag it out of me, it is definitely this little game we call golf.
I made it through and thankfully we didn't keep score (but I did birdie the 9th hole, which was a total fluke). At that point I didn't have any real expectations in terms of skill, I just wanted to be part of the club. My sweetie and I have been playing that little course for about a year and a half now. I have definitely improved, but again... I am not exactly a threat to Paula Creamer. We had also added a couple of other courses to my repertoire, but I just felt like I was sort of a pretend golfer... and that totally bummed me out.
I started harping on the bf about playing "big girl golf" a year or so into it. Bless this man for his patience! There was definitely a "whine" factor involved. He decided that I could play a full 18 with par 4's and 5's as soon as I shot a 36 at this little course. Eh ehm... easier said than done (damned putter). I have come pretty close, but sadly, no cigar. To make matters worse, every single time we played I would feel this overwhelming pressure to shoot the damned 36. Honestly, this started taking some fun out of it for me, and ya know... nothing wreaks havoc on your confidence like hearing "you're not good enough". Of course no one said these words, but I felt like I was this remedial golfer and assumed that I was the only person on the planet who loved this game as much as I did, yet couldn't graduate to big girl golf. In my head all I could hear was "you suck". Sigh...
I think that perhaps this was a little bit evident because one Saturday morning, we were heading out to play. I assumed we were playing at our second most frequented 9 hole and sat back for the short ride. Well, after yelling at my bf because "you missed the exit! Now we have to go across the Golden Gate Bridge!" I realized that he had a little something up his sleeve. We drove north for more than an hour and finally reached our destination. The course is called Northwood and although it is 9 holes it does have par 4's and 5's. It also happens to be in the top 3, 9 hole courses in the country and after spending the day walking down the fairway surrounded by redwoods I could see why. Oh... and we played 2 rounds which means: Yahtzee! Big girl golf!!
Patience is a virtue I've yet to find within, but if anything is going to drag it out of me, it is definitely this little game we call golf.
May 06, 2010
Get thee to the 19th hole!
A few years ago I attended a dinner which was held in the banquet room at a golf course. I arrived early so I decided to sit at the bar until everyone else arrived. I ordered a glass of wine and pulled up a seat. I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings and was checking emails on my BlackBerry. As I finished what I was doing, I could feel someone's eyes on me. I looked up from my phone and had a long, slow, look down the bar. It suddenly became apparent that I was the only source of estrogen in the room and that every barstool was occupied by one attractive man after another. Ummm... JACKPOT! Who knew??
I was already happily attached, so this discovery didn't mean much to me, but I could rattle off a list of single girlfriends who would be in their glory! I have told many friends that they should take up golf or at least pop in to the bar for the occasional cocktail. The talent is there in both quality and quantity.
I suggest this venue for ladies who are in the market (whether you golf or not), but one must proceed with caution. I imagine that some of these men hang out at the course specifically to avoid women and we don't want to chase them away, so caution is the better part of valor here. Don't make this the new happy hour hang out for you and your dozen sorority sisters. Instead, pop in sort of discreetly either solo or with one wingwoman. This is also not the time for your hoochiest Saturday night skirt and thigh boots. The objective here is not to overwhelm the place with the smell of perfume and hair product, but instead to avail oneself to opportunity.
Golf can be a great vehicle for enhancing a relationship. Nothing melts my heart like the visual of my sweetie, in rough up to his armpits, looking for my errant ball. It's really quite sweet. Golf also offers a plethora of opportunities for bonding. Imagine: it's just you and him walking hand in hand down the fairway. The sun is shining, the only things audible are the sounds of birds chirping. The whole scene is tranquil and really quite zen. Of course the moment the bunker comes into view and you see your ball half buried the zen thing is over, but ya know, that's golf.
As most of us know, it is important for a man to "be the man". What better way to fulfil this need then by having him display his prowess in the fairway? I am lucky that my man is both a talented golfer and a patient teacher. This of course helped me (seriously, lessons are expensive) but every time he suggests a swing correction or puts me through a drill, he is teaching me something he knows, which is so important for the male psyche.
I have seen some women play against their sweetie... that is just wrong. Men are competitive by nature, but with each other, not with us. It's all fun and games while youre playing, but um, should you actually beat him... emasculation city! This will never be a problem for me because even if I spent the next year as a "Haney Project", I would still never have a chance in hell of beating him and umm... I like it like that. Why do we, as women, think that we should always be equal? Don't get me wrong, I expect to be able to play anywhere I want and with whomever I want, but I still expect the guy in front of me to hold the door to the pro shop.
Emasculation: just say no
I was already happily attached, so this discovery didn't mean much to me, but I could rattle off a list of single girlfriends who would be in their glory! I have told many friends that they should take up golf or at least pop in to the bar for the occasional cocktail. The talent is there in both quality and quantity.
I suggest this venue for ladies who are in the market (whether you golf or not), but one must proceed with caution. I imagine that some of these men hang out at the course specifically to avoid women and we don't want to chase them away, so caution is the better part of valor here. Don't make this the new happy hour hang out for you and your dozen sorority sisters. Instead, pop in sort of discreetly either solo or with one wingwoman. This is also not the time for your hoochiest Saturday night skirt and thigh boots. The objective here is not to overwhelm the place with the smell of perfume and hair product, but instead to avail oneself to opportunity.
Golf can be a great vehicle for enhancing a relationship. Nothing melts my heart like the visual of my sweetie, in rough up to his armpits, looking for my errant ball. It's really quite sweet. Golf also offers a plethora of opportunities for bonding. Imagine: it's just you and him walking hand in hand down the fairway. The sun is shining, the only things audible are the sounds of birds chirping. The whole scene is tranquil and really quite zen. Of course the moment the bunker comes into view and you see your ball half buried the zen thing is over, but ya know, that's golf.
As most of us know, it is important for a man to "be the man". What better way to fulfil this need then by having him display his prowess in the fairway? I am lucky that my man is both a talented golfer and a patient teacher. This of course helped me (seriously, lessons are expensive) but every time he suggests a swing correction or puts me through a drill, he is teaching me something he knows, which is so important for the male psyche.
I have seen some women play against their sweetie... that is just wrong. Men are competitive by nature, but with each other, not with us. It's all fun and games while youre playing, but um, should you actually beat him... emasculation city! This will never be a problem for me because even if I spent the next year as a "Haney Project", I would still never have a chance in hell of beating him and umm... I like it like that. Why do we, as women, think that we should always be equal? Don't get me wrong, I expect to be able to play anywhere I want and with whomever I want, but I still expect the guy in front of me to hold the door to the pro shop.
Emasculation: just say no
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