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.
July 13, 2010
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
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