Category: Golf

Well, nothing like a little business sports outing in the afternoon. I had a few problems with my backswing, and my follow-through and stance was not all they should be, but in the first foursome I was in, I ended up with a 100 on the score card, and in the second foursome I actually made a 72!

Unfortunately, I was bowling.

The Augusta National Golf Club, site of the Masters tournament, has no female members. Quite intentionally.

Which would make it particularly rich if, some day, a woman broke through to the PGA (not the LPGA) tour, and ended up playing there.

Would they let her in? Would they bar the gates? Stand in front of the first tee, like a protester at Tianamen Square, defiant against the tank treads of modernity?

Well, we’re just a little closer to seeing something like that happen, as a woman, Suzy Whaley, has qualified for a PGA tournament, the first time that’s ever happened.

Wahley isn’t sure if she’ll play in the Greater Hartford Open next year. She’s not sure, frankly, she’s up to the course, and does not want to leave a bad impression about women players on national TV.

Still, the day is coming …

Saturday I spent the day playing in the (Episcopal) Bishops Cup golf tourney, at a rather non-descript municipal course in the northern realms of Denver. I signed up and paid for this several weeks ago, otherwise I would probably have just moped at home. “Hey, any chance to get out and play golf,” I thought.

Well, I am glad I went. There were maybe 75 or so players, running in a Scramble format. In this format, each foursome plays as a team. Everyone tees off, decides who had the best tee shot, everyone shoots from that location, decides who had the best shot, everyone shoots from that location, etc. It’s an interesting format, and a good one for fair-to-poor players (ahem), since it means that nobody’s stuck with a really sucky shot (of which I had my fair share), and since usually, out of the foursome, at least one person will usually have a decent shot. Indeed, it allows anyone to shine, and everyone in our foursome had strengths and weaknesses and good luck opportunities that meant we all felt like we were helping the team. Which was kind of neat for a change of pace from the preceding week.

And, miracle of miracles, my foursome came in second in the “non-competitive” flight, which earned me a little trophy (to go right there with Margie’s bowling trophies) and a $20 gift cert to the pro shop (which I spent on a shirt).

Long day, and a lot of sun, but fun nonetheless. And we shot a better round (77) than Tiger did that day …

A private golf tourney was broken up by police when a tipster warned them that players were also being sold sex at various points as they went from green to tee.

Actually, sort of changes the whole sense of having to wait for the foursome ahead to finish the hole …

A lot of people pooh-pooh golf. Growing up with it — and having picked it back up as an adult — I’ve always had an appreciation for the skill and patience involved in the game. And here’s a story about how it represents “so many of the virtues we admire in our commercial republic — risk taking, hard work and integrity, among other things.”

Go out and play golf … FOR VICTORY!

Went out golfing today, the first outing since last fall. Lawzy, lawzy.

First things first. Out 50, In 59, Net 109. Ouch. Yes, my day deteriorated pretty badly as it proceeded. Doyce beat me. Dave G. beat me. Don, our singleton to fill out the foursome beat me. Feh.

Driving – Fair. When I hit straight, it was decent. A few flubs, which seemed to increase as the day went on.
Fairways – Good. I had some excellent fairway drives. A few real clunkers, to be sure, but also some really nice one that made up for some really crappy drives.
Chipping – Good. I had some very nice chips.
Putting – Crap. It was “Putt Your Way to Victory in Three or Four Easy Steps.” The practice greens were very, very slick, and it made me gun-shy all day. I rarely shot past the hole. I almost always shot short of it. Often way short.

So, for example, the 18th Hole. Drive went way left of where I was aiming. Safe, and in the fairway, but adding yardage to the hole. Then the 3 Wood from the fairway onto the green — barely, but on the green.

Then a four-putt up-hill. And that’s because the last flub I simply picked up.

On the bright side, I only lost one ball (not through lack of trying — on 11 I went out of bounds three times — to the left, into the crick, to the right, toward a lake, then over the back of the green into the bullrushes. Found the ball each time), and actually found two others. So I netted one ball, which is nearly unheard of.

The game also ran long. I left at 11:45a to get there in time to shoot a small bucket of balls. Then there was a half hour delay in the tee time. Then we just seemed to go a little slower than normal. Got finished around 5:30, raced home, having left Margie with Squiggie too long.

My folks will be coming out at the end of May (Memorial Day), and I’ll try to get a game going with my Dad. Probably should try to go out at least once before then …

(Via Yahoo/AP and Boing Boing)

Play a practice round.

I am sooooooo sore

Very. Very. Sore.

Those who pooh-pooh the physical aspects of golf should play 18 on foot.

Ouch.

But I got a 49 on the back nine.

49

49. Forty-nine.

Seven squared.

49.

Forty-frickin-nine.

Less than half of 100.

49. Back Nine. 49.

Hoody-frickin-hoo.

When chipping, I have a tendency to go from feast to famine. Either I give it a little, bitty scoop, sending it dribbling a few yards — or I whack it with the edge of the face, sending it flying several hundred yards over and beyond the green.

Well, watching golf last week, I watched someone on the pro tour doing the former. Twice. In a row. Insert picture of Dave doing the little Guilty Pleasure Over Someone’s Misfortune Dance.

When Doyce and I went out a few weeks ago, he decided that his ball getting caught in a tree was a sign that the Golf Gods did not want him to finish out the hole.

Well, Tiger did the same thing yesterday. Triple-bogied the hole. Seven off the lead at the Canadian Open. Feel better, guy.

Golf day. The parish was holding a, well, parish golf get-together. Good “fellowship” fun. And it gave me a legitimate way to leave Margie with the Squig for the afternoon, saying, “I’m off to do church-related activities, woman.”

Bless her, she didn’t hurt me too badly.

We played at Overland Golf Course, which is a Denver municipal course. Pretty straightforward. Lots of long, straight, wide fairways. Wish I’d been in a few more of them (or at least those of the hole I was playing). Ended up with a 113, which is (so to speak) par for the course.

What was noteworthy was that I actually netted 1 golf ball for the 18 holes. Now, that’s not quite as astonishing as it sounds, since we got three golf balls as part of our admission fee to the soiree. But that means I lost only 2 balls, on 18 holes. There are days and courses where I don’t even get through a single hole without losing that many. Hoody-golfin-hoo.

Golf is one of those sports that really needs to be played to be appreciated. To observers, it is slow, silly, and features folks wearing odd clothing. Sort of like baseball. Actually getting out there, whacking at the ball, and noting its disinclination to go in the desired direction, for the desired distance, instills in one a realization of exactly how talented those folks who do this sort of thing for a living.

As to how my game was — the answer is, uneven. My score actually was worse on the back nine than the front. I had the requisite Great Shots that actually get you to come back (including a gorgeous 175 yard fairway shot right up on the green, woo-hoo), not to mention two pars, and three bogies. I was suffering from a very odd hook this outing. Plus some problems with actually not aiming in the right direction (which is easier to do than it sounds). My putting was actually pretty good — not nearly the normal level of “Three-Putting Your Way To Victory!” that I usually suffer from.

On the other hand, I hit into the fairway from the tee twice. That’s two times out of 18 possible. That’s pretty sucky.

Mercifully, I was not the worst of our foursome, and the group was uneven enough in its play that I won a few holes. Still, there’s a reason I don’t play for money (let alone for a living).