I sometimes wonder if I suffer from Attention Deficit Disorder. When I begin something, I usually do so with a bit of zeal, gusto if you will, whether it's reading a new book, switching up my exercise routine, or sending out an RFP. Generally if I'm about to start something, I'm excited about whatever it is, have probably done some research and preparation and can't wait to get cracking. Vim and vigor is great and everything, but it doesn't always last. This is perhaps my biggest issue with my golf swing...
A couple of weeks ago my sweetie and I were at my little home 9 holer (yes, it really is fab to live somewhere where golf is a year round sport). As I'm sure I've stated I'm not a huge fan of the first tee because everyone within a square mile can see you tee off. Adding insult to injury, that day was the first time we had played in quite awhile so I was feeling more insecure than usual. Due to marker and pin placement, I pulled Mr. Hybrid out of the bag (yay, Callaway!). I did my thing and hit a good shot (ironically too far left since I was trying to over compensate for my slice tendency), Sweetie smashed his and off we went.
We were waiting on the second tee when two guys appeared and asked if they could join us. Ok, I love it when we get to play without another pair so I was a little annoyed, but primarily just ticked that these guys walked off the eighth green because they wanted to play another round but didn't start at one so they wouldn't have to pay. Bitter, party of 2 (Gertie was po'd as well). We were waiting for the group ahead to finish on the green and one of the guys says "you have a beautiful swing, where did you learn to play golf?" I looked proudly at my sweetie waiting for him to respond when... Omg... He was talking to me?!?! Yeah, me. Ok well chances are he knew I was less than pleased about the intrusion and was trying to butter me up (totally worked), but still. As the flush retreated from my face I set about the task of trying to play a decent round. I did all right, not my best, but not my worst… but the one thing I came away with that day was this: stop freaking out every time you start your backswing: it's fine! Instead work on finishing your damned swing!
I guess I'm half way there... I just have to see it through. It’s like not finishing a round so you can cheat your way into playing again… the hole you missed may have been your ace.
Sometimes we just have to lay up.
February 08, 2011
November 10, 2010
We are all just prisoners here...
There are situations in which I am pleasantly reminded that my job does not suck. Every year, the company I represent hosts a couple of company meetings: the sales meeting and the all company meeting. A few weeks ago we had our sales meeting, which is by far my favorite (side note: this happened to fall over the weekend of the Frys.com tournament, which was held about 30 minutes from my house… and… MY Rocco took the win! Seriously, I had to be out of town that weekend? Frick). As I was saying, the sales meeting was in Phoenix, at the Arizona Biltmore (a lovely property, book your meetings there, through me of course). I arrived a day early and hooked up with a couple of chums for 18 at the Biltmore. Phoenix was unseasonably warm for October and our afternoon round which started at 2pm, was sweltering… and I mean, freaking sweltering. I and my oh-so-fair skin were the color of a nicely reduced Bolognese, but I pulled up my big girl panties and dealt with it. Anyway, there I was, on this gorgeous course, with 2 of my fave peeps (one of whom is the travel hub since my sweetie couldn’t come, but more on that later), and I was determined to enjoy. Clearly Petey (that pink bast*&d) had other ideas. Really, Cobra? Really, that has draw basis? Oh, I seriously beg to differ… No, I didn’t play my best round ever. But I didn’t play my worst either. I was as embarrassing as anyone else and in reality, as long as you don’t slow play the peeps behind you, whatever.
Sadly, my sweetie was unable to join me on this trip, although sigs are invited to this one. The good news, however, is that my travel hub was on deck to not only carry my lip gloss and glass of whatever, but he also filled in as proxy caddie. I have to say, I was impressed with the TH, and although we got off to a slow start, he was totally with the program by our round the next morning! OMG… So, I had been on the east coast and had been home for 12 hours prior to departure for Phoenix. I landed, hooked up with the TH and off we went for an extremely sweaty 18. The coup de gras, of course, was the 7:35 tee time for the next morning. Now then, here’s where the BGG thing comes in to play. Yes, I was freaking exhausted… yes, I was still on east coast time… and yes, this was a leisure activity. But this is golf people so we pull on our fun socks and get to it. And I sure am glad I did!
This morning I hooked with the TH and our chum from the day before, but also another colleague and a CVB (Convention & Visitor’s Bureau) dude, and had another group of chums join us. Yes it was early and we all sucked down some caffeine, but it was a breathtaking morning. The air was still and warm, and all was quiet. Quiet that is, until we arrive at the Westin Kierland. We got to the course and I was undone at how gorgeous it was… however, that was nothing compared to the pre round warm up. Our host got us situated and directed us to the practice area so we could hit a few and work out the kinks. As we approached this area I was struck by how pretty everything was… and then… I noticed that amidst the peaceful morning there was... wait... is that music? Why yes, yes it was music… and not the kind of music you’d expect on the golf course (if there ever was such a thing)… but good old fashioned classic rock!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!? And it was cranking! I was in Heaven!! Hitting balls with the Eagles chilling me out! I have no words... it fricking rocked! However, that was kinda the end of it. Yes, I played… yes, I’ve played worse I suppose, but dammit I wanted Petey to show up!
You know what? I totally don’t care. That was a kick ass day, with kick ass peeps, and that is all I really need to remember!
In reality, it’s all about the pink champagne on ice…
Sadly, my sweetie was unable to join me on this trip, although sigs are invited to this one. The good news, however, is that my travel hub was on deck to not only carry my lip gloss and glass of whatever, but he also filled in as proxy caddie. I have to say, I was impressed with the TH, and although we got off to a slow start, he was totally with the program by our round the next morning! OMG… So, I had been on the east coast and had been home for 12 hours prior to departure for Phoenix. I landed, hooked up with the TH and off we went for an extremely sweaty 18. The coup de gras, of course, was the 7:35 tee time for the next morning. Now then, here’s where the BGG thing comes in to play. Yes, I was freaking exhausted… yes, I was still on east coast time… and yes, this was a leisure activity. But this is golf people so we pull on our fun socks and get to it. And I sure am glad I did!
This morning I hooked with the TH and our chum from the day before, but also another colleague and a CVB (Convention & Visitor’s Bureau) dude, and had another group of chums join us. Yes it was early and we all sucked down some caffeine, but it was a breathtaking morning. The air was still and warm, and all was quiet. Quiet that is, until we arrive at the Westin Kierland. We got to the course and I was undone at how gorgeous it was… however, that was nothing compared to the pre round warm up. Our host got us situated and directed us to the practice area so we could hit a few and work out the kinks. As we approached this area I was struck by how pretty everything was… and then… I noticed that amidst the peaceful morning there was... wait... is that music? Why yes, yes it was music… and not the kind of music you’d expect on the golf course (if there ever was such a thing)… but good old fashioned classic rock!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!? And it was cranking! I was in Heaven!! Hitting balls with the Eagles chilling me out! I have no words... it fricking rocked! However, that was kinda the end of it. Yes, I played… yes, I’ve played worse I suppose, but dammit I wanted Petey to show up!
You know what? I totally don’t care. That was a kick ass day, with kick ass peeps, and that is all I really need to remember!
In reality, it’s all about the pink champagne on ice…
October 19, 2010
Match made in Heaven... or the other place?
A good partner can bring out the best in us. When a man and a woman are well suited, for example, they will balance out the strengths and weaknesses of each other, and this symbiosis will provide positive results. However, if the two are at each others throats all day long, failure is guaranteed. The question is: how do we determine who to settle down with for the most successful and harmonious life?
In love, we usually choose our partners based upon initial attraction, followed by commonalities, and add compatibility. Of course, there are the “checklists” we all have (whether we admit it or not). At some point we decide that a candidate is “the one” and settle in, in some form or fashion.
Choosing the right life partner will make the difference between happiness and sorrow, just as choosing the right clubs can make the difference between celebrating in the 19th hole, and drowning ones sorrows (that may overstate the situation a bit but, you get it).
Lately, my driver has been the bane of my existence. I totally own that I don’t hit it well, however I had also not been fitted for a driver and I don’t think that was helping. Sooooo…. I finally bit the bullet, got down on one knee (no, not really) and asked Petey2, to be mine. He accepted, I plunked down the necessary dough, and brought home my newest bundle of joy. Now then… getting fitted for clubs is pretty cool, if you make sure to do this at a PGA certified location. The ball is teed up in front of this camera thing and you smack the ball into the net. The computer determines everything about the shot based upon several factors, including where the ball and club head connected, and how fast the club head was travelling at that moment… it is tres cool.
I decided to find my new Petey because I just couldn’t take my horrendous slicing and thought that a club with draw bias would help. However, the day before I was fitted I made a swing correction which apparently helped the situation, because the camera-computer-thingy was reporting that my shots were relatively straight. Hmmm… interesting. Regardless, I decided upon the Cobra S2 offset and promised to have and to hold from that day forward.
I hit the range a good bit immediately following the acquisition, understanding that we needed to get to know each other a little better and I did well. We went on our maiden voyage together to Phoenix and I was total big girl golfer! I borrowed my sweetie’s travel bag and when I checked into the hotel the Bel guy asked if I would “…like for him to store my clubs.” It was total big girl and I was all stupidly excited, but I mean… a girl’s gotta have something to be excited about and if it’s silly and small, well whatever. Who cares? All I knew was that I was one step closer to really being “golf chick” and Petey, my new partner in crime, was gonna help me get there. All I had to do then was tee it up and wait for the magic to happen… right?
Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match…
In love, we usually choose our partners based upon initial attraction, followed by commonalities, and add compatibility. Of course, there are the “checklists” we all have (whether we admit it or not). At some point we decide that a candidate is “the one” and settle in, in some form or fashion.
Choosing the right life partner will make the difference between happiness and sorrow, just as choosing the right clubs can make the difference between celebrating in the 19th hole, and drowning ones sorrows (that may overstate the situation a bit but, you get it).
Lately, my driver has been the bane of my existence. I totally own that I don’t hit it well, however I had also not been fitted for a driver and I don’t think that was helping. Sooooo…. I finally bit the bullet, got down on one knee (no, not really) and asked Petey2, to be mine. He accepted, I plunked down the necessary dough, and brought home my newest bundle of joy. Now then… getting fitted for clubs is pretty cool, if you make sure to do this at a PGA certified location. The ball is teed up in front of this camera thing and you smack the ball into the net. The computer determines everything about the shot based upon several factors, including where the ball and club head connected, and how fast the club head was travelling at that moment… it is tres cool.
I decided to find my new Petey because I just couldn’t take my horrendous slicing and thought that a club with draw bias would help. However, the day before I was fitted I made a swing correction which apparently helped the situation, because the camera-computer-thingy was reporting that my shots were relatively straight. Hmmm… interesting. Regardless, I decided upon the Cobra S2 offset and promised to have and to hold from that day forward.
I hit the range a good bit immediately following the acquisition, understanding that we needed to get to know each other a little better and I did well. We went on our maiden voyage together to Phoenix and I was total big girl golfer! I borrowed my sweetie’s travel bag and when I checked into the hotel the Bel guy asked if I would “…like for him to store my clubs.” It was total big girl and I was all stupidly excited, but I mean… a girl’s gotta have something to be excited about and if it’s silly and small, well whatever. Who cares? All I knew was that I was one step closer to really being “golf chick” and Petey, my new partner in crime, was gonna help me get there. All I had to do then was tee it up and wait for the magic to happen… right?
Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match…
September 21, 2010
Joie de Golf
I guess it's a pretty basic principle that good begets good, but sometimes it gets really difficult to stay positive about your golf game. I sort of liken it to dieting... when we're doing really well we can't wait to jump out of bed and run to the scale, watching with baited breath for some magic number to appear (kinda like playing the slots, ya know?). However, that same person who wakes up half an hour early just to prance about the bathroom celebrating his/her weight may do anything to avoid the scale the day after Thanksgiving, if you know what I mean. That is the critical moment... by avoiding the scale, the person refuses to face the negative, however the only way to overcome it is to face it, accept it, and correct it.
I've been in a bit of a golf funk lately, which has really been bumming me out. When I first started playing, I saw slow but steady progress, and then one day... I came down with a case of the "righties". Although this ailment does seem to come and go, I've had quite the relapse, and am worried it might cause permanent damage. Sigh... never has something plagued the masses the way the righties does. It is of absolutely no consolation to me that this is a fairly common issue: I don't care... I totally hate it... it makes me swear WAY too much in public... and the worst part... it's killing my golf buzz. I really only suffer this malady with my driver and 3-wood, so "I got that goin' for me, which is nice". Eh ehmm... really? So I have to slice every freaking T-shot? Why yes, yes I do. Needless to say, my usual enthusiastic attitude about an upcoming round has become lackluster.
Now then... how does one overcome such a horrendous state of affairs? Well, let me tell ya: you get your sweet heiny out to that range and practice buster (or busterette?)! So that's what I've been doing. Oh and I have also budgeted for a new driver... I seriously can't take it anymore. I need to have the "it's not ME, it's YOU" conversation with Petey. However, I cannot do that until he has been replaced, so I decided to see what offerings were available and took a couple of prospects out for a spin (it's not technically cheating, because I didn't actually play a round, just hit some balls.. sheesh!). I decided on 2 possible Petey's which seemed to offer what I need (not the least of which is major draw bias, sigh) and proceeded to the range. The club I assumed would be "the one" was the Cobra S2 Offset. I liked the club, and I'm not sure if I just didn't have my groove going yet (pffft! as if I had a groove, Ha!), but it just didn't seem to do anything for me. I could use the money to buy a cute new outfit and keep on slicing with Petey for all the improvement I saw. Until... I picked up the Taylor Made R9. I only had a few balls left, but something about that club just felt so strong, comfortable and sturdy in my hand I loved it. The best news was, I smashed the ball! (I would never refer to range balls as Gertie, because of course they are not pink... doi). Yay! OK, it may or may not have had the slightest of slices, but it was a vast improvement, and I had sort of given up hope. I plan to take both on date #2 tomorrow afternoon, but of course cannot "seal the deal" until our third date.
Honestly, the new club may or may not have any real impact on my game, although I am looking forward to some better distance off the tee. However, what I do know will impact my game, is practice, practice, practice, just like anything else. Golf is not an easy sport; if it were would we all be dreaming about that "one shot"? Nope... we wouldn't care at all.
Viva la golf et laissez les bons temps rouler! (in other words, bring it!)
I've been in a bit of a golf funk lately, which has really been bumming me out. When I first started playing, I saw slow but steady progress, and then one day... I came down with a case of the "righties". Although this ailment does seem to come and go, I've had quite the relapse, and am worried it might cause permanent damage. Sigh... never has something plagued the masses the way the righties does. It is of absolutely no consolation to me that this is a fairly common issue: I don't care... I totally hate it... it makes me swear WAY too much in public... and the worst part... it's killing my golf buzz. I really only suffer this malady with my driver and 3-wood, so "I got that goin' for me, which is nice". Eh ehmm... really? So I have to slice every freaking T-shot? Why yes, yes I do. Needless to say, my usual enthusiastic attitude about an upcoming round has become lackluster.
Now then... how does one overcome such a horrendous state of affairs? Well, let me tell ya: you get your sweet heiny out to that range and practice buster (or busterette?)! So that's what I've been doing. Oh and I have also budgeted for a new driver... I seriously can't take it anymore. I need to have the "it's not ME, it's YOU" conversation with Petey. However, I cannot do that until he has been replaced, so I decided to see what offerings were available and took a couple of prospects out for a spin (it's not technically cheating, because I didn't actually play a round, just hit some balls.. sheesh!). I decided on 2 possible Petey's which seemed to offer what I need (not the least of which is major draw bias, sigh) and proceeded to the range. The club I assumed would be "the one" was the Cobra S2 Offset. I liked the club, and I'm not sure if I just didn't have my groove going yet (pffft! as if I had a groove, Ha!), but it just didn't seem to do anything for me. I could use the money to buy a cute new outfit and keep on slicing with Petey for all the improvement I saw. Until... I picked up the Taylor Made R9. I only had a few balls left, but something about that club just felt so strong, comfortable and sturdy in my hand I loved it. The best news was, I smashed the ball! (I would never refer to range balls as Gertie, because of course they are not pink... doi). Yay! OK, it may or may not have had the slightest of slices, but it was a vast improvement, and I had sort of given up hope. I plan to take both on date #2 tomorrow afternoon, but of course cannot "seal the deal" until our third date.
Honestly, the new club may or may not have any real impact on my game, although I am looking forward to some better distance off the tee. However, what I do know will impact my game, is practice, practice, practice, just like anything else. Golf is not an easy sport; if it were would we all be dreaming about that "one shot"? Nope... we wouldn't care at all.
Viva la golf et laissez les bons temps rouler! (in other words, bring it!)
September 03, 2010
Be a Viking!
My grandfather is 100% Danish, but born in San Francisco. He was big and strong, just the way your hero should be. Sometimes we would point out a nasty scratch he had from trimming his rosebushes and ask him if it hurt... his response was always the same "of course not, I'm a Viking!". It's kind of a joke within my family and if I have to "suck it up", I say "eh, I can do it, I'm a Viking!". Apparently, golf brings out the Viking (or honorary Viking) in many people.
My sweetie's dad has no Norwegian in him at all, yet I would say he is welcome as an honorary member. (Today is his birthday as a matter of fact, Happy Birthday Wuuuudy!!). He plays golf 6 days per week... which would be 7 if his course was open all 7 days. He has had some issues with his ankle and although it would be swollen and I know it was killing him, he still tees it up every day. He did eventually have surgery to correct the problem, but the no-golf recovery time was not easy. I totally get that... I mean, how can you just not play golf? A few weeks ago, my right hip started really hurting. I ignored it, assumed that it would just get better, and continued playing. However, my sweetie and I played one round when I had really warmed up and I played well that day, with minimal pain, but the round 2 days later day was a completely different story. I was absolutely miserable and totally did the Viking thing, but trying to get my body through was just not working and my swing was greatly affected.
I decided that this wasn't getting better and in fact was getting so bad I couldn't sit at my desk to work, so I finally got in to see the doc. Of course I shall live, but the pinched nerve in my hip required a cortisone shot, and back brace (kind like the UPS guys wear) and a steroid scrip. OK, this all well and good, no big deal, he said it should be 7-10 days-ish... so the burning question I had was: "so, do I wear the brace when I play golf?". The doc put his head in his hands, whilst shaking it and said "I am so not answering that question". Damn.. so, what do I do? OK, then tech dude comes in to fit me for my new fashion accessory and I pose the same question to him. He tells me that he was wearing one whilst playing golf one time and that it totally forced his body to get through completely and his righties were gone! Wooho!! Guess what I'm wearing even when my nerve thing is all better?!?!
Now then, the thing has actually hurt so much that I haven't played for the past week, however tomorrow is a new day. My sweetie and I are heading out of town to visit my bestie and play a round with her hubby (recent back surgery recovery by the way). We shall see how this works out, but my hope is that with the brace thing, Petey won't send Gertie slicing through the air... fingers crossed for dead ass straight!
Don't be a baby, Duncan!
My sweetie's dad has no Norwegian in him at all, yet I would say he is welcome as an honorary member. (Today is his birthday as a matter of fact, Happy Birthday Wuuuudy!!). He plays golf 6 days per week... which would be 7 if his course was open all 7 days. He has had some issues with his ankle and although it would be swollen and I know it was killing him, he still tees it up every day. He did eventually have surgery to correct the problem, but the no-golf recovery time was not easy. I totally get that... I mean, how can you just not play golf? A few weeks ago, my right hip started really hurting. I ignored it, assumed that it would just get better, and continued playing. However, my sweetie and I played one round when I had really warmed up and I played well that day, with minimal pain, but the round 2 days later day was a completely different story. I was absolutely miserable and totally did the Viking thing, but trying to get my body through was just not working and my swing was greatly affected.
I decided that this wasn't getting better and in fact was getting so bad I couldn't sit at my desk to work, so I finally got in to see the doc. Of course I shall live, but the pinched nerve in my hip required a cortisone shot, and back brace (kind like the UPS guys wear) and a steroid scrip. OK, this all well and good, no big deal, he said it should be 7-10 days-ish... so the burning question I had was: "so, do I wear the brace when I play golf?". The doc put his head in his hands, whilst shaking it and said "I am so not answering that question". Damn.. so, what do I do? OK, then tech dude comes in to fit me for my new fashion accessory and I pose the same question to him. He tells me that he was wearing one whilst playing golf one time and that it totally forced his body to get through completely and his righties were gone! Wooho!! Guess what I'm wearing even when my nerve thing is all better?!?!
Now then, the thing has actually hurt so much that I haven't played for the past week, however tomorrow is a new day. My sweetie and I are heading out of town to visit my bestie and play a round with her hubby (recent back surgery recovery by the way). We shall see how this works out, but my hope is that with the brace thing, Petey won't send Gertie slicing through the air... fingers crossed for dead ass straight!
Don't be a baby, Duncan!
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.
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