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?
August 18, 2010
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.
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