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!)

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!

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?

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.

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.

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'

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...