Putting Out of a Bunker

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday I was golfing in sunny, windy 65-degree weather. Today I'm stuck inside watching snow accumulate on the lawn. Luckily, the brain has something called a memory that can replay pleasant scenes in just this kind of circumstance.

Yesterday started with a restless feeling, as I checked the online tee times of my local course and found that nothing was available till after 12:30pm. So I spent the morning stretching and washing my clubs and winnowing them down to a set of 10, which would make my bag lighter since I was going to be walking. I ate a breakfast sandwich and headed out to the range to practice before my round.

Golf season is gearing up, and it was nice to see some familiar faces around and engage in some light chitchat about golfy things like recent injuries and performance clothing. I got paired with 3 nice gentlemen who were squeezing in a round before they headed off on a golf trip to Myrtle Beach. Naturally, the talk turned to the weather. While it was a sunny day, the wind had some wicked gusts that were throwing me off my game. But after one of the guys mentioned he wasn't looking forward to the 20-degree drop in temps in the forecast in Myrtle Beach, I decided I had no right to complain. Imagine scrimping and saving all year for a week-long vacation, only to find the normally balmy weather suddenly turn cold and rainy. But as any golfer knows, them's the breaks. And to quote Bobby Jones, "Golf is the closest game to the game we call life. You get bad breaks from good shots; you get good breaks from bad shots -- but you have to play the ball where it lies."

The stakes were lower for me. I was just trying to get in my golf fix before freezing temps set in. The handicap season hasn't started yet, so after the first couple double-bogeys, I stopped keeping score. The fairways were still hard and tight and full of patches of dried-out bermuda grass, so it was hard for me to hit any decent irons shots. But I did hit some respectable driver shots and managed to par a couple holes. (To my 90-year-old self who will reread this blog after my days of golf have ended: Remember that long par 3 with water on the left and bunkers on the right? You set up a couple yards back from the forward tees and pured your 5-wood to within 10 feet, pin-high. Great shot, you!)

And I tried something new on a dogleg-right par 4, which was to purposely try and hit a slice. It didn't work, and I ended up playing from the adjacent fairway, hitting through trees only to have my ball rejected like a coin from a broken vending machine. Finally, I punched through and finished the hole with some unpretty putting. But that's what the off-season is for, trying things you wouldn't normally do if you were keeping score.

I also learned something new from one of the guys who landed in bunkers so often I couldn't help but notice. Normally, I don't stare at people swinging, because it's just not polite, but after one bunker shot, I couldn't help but see that he emerged with a putter in his hand.

"You can use a putter to get out of a bunker?" I said.
"Oh sure," he said, "but only if it's a shallow one with no lip."

I was amazed. This was something I'd never seen a highly paid golf professional do on TV, but something I wouldn't be too proud to try if the opportunity arose. Not that I'm going to be aiming for any bunkers. But it's good to know it's an option when you find yourself getting a tough break like landing in a bunker. It's nice to have a new way to play the ball as it lies.