Good Cop, Fat Cop

[Note: This is a blog post I first drafted on May 17, 2015, a few weeks after the Baltimore riots in protest of the death of Freddie Gray. I didn't post it then, perhaps out of fear I'd end up playing golf with the same cops again at some point. But it seems fitting to post now, in light of current events.]

Paired with strangers as usual. The starter told me they were city cops. I joked maybe we should go play Clifton Park. I wanted to put them at ease because I was genuinely curious what cops were really like these days. I'd dealt with cops in various ways in the past, in various cities and countries, and had a mixed bag of experiences.

The fat cop looked like Jonah Hill. The other one looked like he just graduated college. They said they were 31 and 28 years old. The younger one, the "good cop," said he just got engaged.

I couldn't help but ask if they'd been on duty during the riots. They said, "Everybody had to do their turn." They made fun of the TV personality Geraldo calling everyone anarchists. They said some media at the riots weren't even journalists, and accused one of throwing a trashcan full of bottles at the cops to try and start something so they could photograph it.

I asked them what they thought about body cams. The fat cop said, "I hope we have to wear them so everyone can see what kind of animals they really are." He went on to talk about the Clifton Park public golf course being racist against whites. "They think it's their country club." He said they patrol there in the afternoons to keep an eye on the kids who get out of school and cut across the course on their way home.

"Are you Korean?" the fat cop asked me abruptly.

The good cop elbowed him and said, "Man, that's racist!" Then fat cop mumbled something about his stepmom being from Taiwan.
I deflected by saying, "I suppose I can't say I can tell white people apart by ethnicity either." Looking at the fat cop, I said, "If I had to guess, I'd say you were German or maybe Irish." 

Fat cop looked stunned. "That's exactly what I am. German and Irish." Then fat cop went on to talk more about "them," like if you gave them a $30-an-hour job, would any of them be able to keep it, and how Section 8 housing didn't give them any incentive to earn a living. He said cops are afraid to do anything when making an arrest these days because they might get cited for misconduct.

Nothing they said surprised me. I was, however, amazed at their candidness about racial matters, though it wasn't the first time whites have revealed their secret racism to me. Some whites feel that Asians will share or at least sympathize with their racist views of blacks, and even Jews. (And I'm sure there are whites who share, with blacks, their secret racism against Asians.) 

The officers said they hoped things would get better for cops under a Republican governor. The good cop said he was already looking to leave the force and get into another line of work. He was soon to be married and wanted to start a family. I kind of felt sorry for the guy. He seemed like the kind of guy who became a cop to do good and found a workplace culture that made it difficult.

The fat cop, on the other hand, seemed spoiled by the system already. And he was always trying to give me golf advice, like about not leaving my putts short. He told me how his dad would tease him by saying, "Go in," in a sarcastic way whenever his putts were woefully short. He didn't realize that this story said more about him than it served as instructional to me. Rather than sink putts with regularity, he learned to blow putts way past the hole so he didn't have to hear his dad's taunting voice in his head.

It always amazes me how golfers who don't play particularly well always seem to know how to fix the games of others. He had no grasp of how golf is a game geared to favor the average man's swing, and that the odds are actually stacked against women. It would be futile to explain how the game he takes for granted actually has a long history of discriminating against certain classes of people.

The whole time the fat cop was talking, the good cop was sheepishly quiet, silently cringing. I could tell good cop was embarrassed but didn't want to say anything against his partner. 

Fat cop kept asking if I wanted in on closest to pin, but I said I didn't bet. On the 17th, par-3, my tee shot landed 3 feet from the hole. That's when I asked good cop to take a pic of me trying to make my birdie. "It's for my blog," I said. They both got quiet, perhaps suddenly realizing that I might write about them. They didn't ask for my blog name, and I pretended I would just be writing about my game. But if they learned a lesson that day, maybe it's one they should have known by now. You never know who you're playing with, you never know who's listening or watching.

At the end of the round, I shook their hands and thanked them for their service, adding, "You probably don't hear 'thank you' enough."

[... It's 5 years later and it seems like the more things change, the more they stay the same. I wonder what happened to the 2 city cops I golfed with that day. Did the good cop ever get out? Did the fat cop change his attitude? Between the two, if I ever needed a cop, I would prefer to deal with the good one. But if I had to make a bet, I'd say he was too smart to stick around.]

Decoding Golf Compliments

One thing I love about golf is that everyone is so polite. Because you are often paired with strangers and a round lasts about 4 hours or more, most people are on their best behavior. Because I am an Asian American woman, I have had to endure the occasional unpleasantry of a racist (like the guy who said with surprise upon meeting me, "Oh, you speak English!") or sexist undertone, but not enough to make me stop walking on as a solo on the local golf course. I prepare myself by hoping for the best and reassuring myself that I can always leave a round if things get dicey.

So far, I have not had to do that other than faking a work emergency when I was paired with 2 excruciatingly slow, older women golfers and a guy who reeked so awfully of body odor it could probably be smelled across the Atlantic. But I was very polite about it, never once giving a hint at what I was really thinking.

And so it is with golf course commentary. You'll hear a lot of common phrases that golfers say to each other. Here's what they really mean.

"Good shot" or "Good ball." Your ball went up in the air and landed somewhere in the fairway or on the green. There is an implicit meaning here, as in "Good shot (for you)" and not relative in comparison to say, Tiger Woods. It's polite to utter "Good shot" to your playing companions at least once during the round, just to show that you're considerate enough to be watching their shots, and not texting someone about how you got stuck with some really bad golfers who keep topping the ball.
"Nice shot" or "Niiiice." Your ball went up in the air with a little draw and landed in the fairway or somewhere on the green but not that close to the hole. Note that "Niiiice" is more complimentary than a succinct "Nice shot" which can sometimes come across as envious-sounding depending on how it's said.
"Great shot." Your ball went way up in the air with a nice trajectory, perhaps with a little draw or fade, and landed softly on the green within just feet of the hole. This is usually said when the odds were against you, for example if you were behind a tree or in a bunker (you could also say "Good out" or "Nice out" in this case).
"That's a golf shot." You struck the ball purely and it landed on the green within inches of the hole. This is sometimes accompanied by the "golf clap" which is when you clap slowly and deliberately at the golfer who just made the shot. But the golf clap can sometimes be misconstrued as sarcastic, as it is in the real world. And you probably won’t have time to clap anyway because you should be getting ready for your next shot.
"That'll work." Your ball didn't really go up in the air or maybe it did but not in a pretty way. However, by some stroke of luck, it landed in the fairway or at least not in a hazard. Better to be lucky than good. This phrase is about as close as you’ll hear to an insult when you’re golfing.
"Good putt." Your putt landed close or went in the hole. (Please note that this should only be said after the ball comes to rest. If you say "Good putt" before the ball stops and it doesn't end up in the hole, you have unwittingly uttered the "curse of the early call." Just because the ball looks like it will go in the hole, sometimes it doesn't, and if you said "Good putt" beforehand, you may have actually caused it not to go in with your pre-emptive jinx.)
"Nice try" or "Good effort." Your putt was close but not close enough to say "Good putt." (Please note that "Nice try" should never be said with any hint of sarcasm, as is often the case in the real world.)
"Good thing the hole was there." Your putt made the ball go straight but really fast so if the hole wasn't there, it would end up over the green. Kind of a back-handed compliment that you just got lucky with that putt.
(No comment or complete silence.) Either your shot or your putt was a worm-burner, a shank, a slice, a hook, hit some trees, or was otherwise so bad that everyone remains quietly chastened and humbled that golf is sometimes a very difficult and frustrating game. That's why we golfers have to stay on the bright side and focus on the positives with our commentary, at least among strangers. With hubby, sometimes it's a different story.

All That Glitters

The problem with popular destinations is that they are crowded. This is even more true of golf courses near popular destinations. Las Vegas, where hubby and I went recently, is probably one of the country's most popular destinations. Frankly, I've never been drawn to Vegas because I don't gamble, but lately I've been hearing about how great the food is in Vegas, and I definitely eat, so we took the plunge and booked a trip. Aside from food, Vegas also has some good golf. And when the weather is cold elsewhere, the Vegas climate can be warm to quite hot. It was unusually warm when we went in late April, but at least it was dry. Unfortunately, it was really crowded both times we golfed.

Our round at TPC Las Vegas took more than 5 hours, longer than a routine colonoscopy including waiting time for the anesthesia to wear off. Those who know me know that slow play is the kiss of death for my game. It's like sitting in an armchair and getting up to take a shot every 15 minutes. After awhile, your muscles get stiff. Torpor sets in. And all you can do is watch the slow OMGs in the group ahead as they shuffle feebly toward their ball. Think slugs slithering toward a dewdrop.

The ranger was unapologetic, but of course they must cater to their local clientele, their bread and butter. Why should they care whether a couple of out-of-towners are slowly sprouting new gray hairs over the course of 18 holes?

As always, I tried to look at the bright side. The sun was shining and I had time to take lots of pictures.

TPC Las Vegas is an undeniably pretty course.

Conditions were impeccable, with greens super-fast and true, which is to be expected at a PGA Tour venue.

Of course there are some tough holes. Here's one of the signature holes, a par 3 called "Canyon." I made a par, but only because it's just 110 yards from the forward tees. From the tips, it's almost a 200-yard carry.

The finishing hole is in view of the clubhouse terrace. I flew my approach to the rear of the green and had to take the walk of shame. Oh well, it wasn't the first time.

Bali Hai Golf Club was the second course we played. It is also a really pretty course. It was faster round, even though we had a group of 8 women playing in front of us on what seemed to be some kind of girls' trip. I noticed they drank a lot of beer. They had a forecaddie and I think he had them picking up their balls a lot to keep the pace of play. One benefit of having a group of women in front of me is I can see where their balls land and adjust accordingly. On a long par 3, for example, I saw two women hit into a huge bunker. It drew attention to the fact that the hole sloped steeply uphill, so even though the scorecard gave the yardage as 160, it played longer. On my turn, I clubbed up to driver and made it on the green.

For a desert course, Bali Hai has some surprisingly picturesque water features.

It's on the Vegas Strip, so you can see casino hotels from the fairways.

The famous Vegas sign is across the street. On one of the holes, you get a view of it over the fence.

Because it's Vegas, there's a little gambling built in. On one of the par 3 holes, you can place a bet for any amount of money. If you make the green on your tee shot, you win double the amount to spend in the pro shop. If you miss, you still get the amount you bet to spend in the pro shop. I wagered $10 and missed the green. I bought a $10 ball marker and clip in the pro shop. I would have bought this as a souvenir anyway, so it was a win-win for me.

At Bali Hai, the 16th hole (a par-3 island green) is in view of the clubhouse patio. Even though no one was on the patio watching, I made a mess of this hole. First, I hit my tee shot into the bunker. Then I hit all ball out of the bunker and rolled off the edge of the green into the water on the other side. Then I had to take a drop and chip up. Then I three-putted and carded a 7. At least no one was watching.

After the round, hubby and I sat on the patio facing this green so we could watch others coming up. Finally, I saw a golfer make the exact same error that I did. Vindication at last.

Between the two courses, I would play Bali Hai again. I liked the way the fairways tended to slope inward, bringing the ball toward the middle, even on wayward shots. With the way my game has been going lately, it's always nice when the odds are a little in my favor.

Spring Hopes, Eternal

Ah, the first rounds of spring bring the joys of sights not lately seen. In the pond by the 3rd hole, I spotted the giant koi fish usually obscured by overgrown thrushes and the turtles sunning themselves on the rocks. It was a sunny day, and in the blue sky, there were clouds that looked like angel wings.

Signs of the long, wet winter lingered: Soggy patches of muddy grass. A raccoon tail with a weathered skeleton attached (probably eaten by a fox).

Hubby and I played as a twosome, stuck between 2 foursomes. It was a slow round, but we always feel grateful when we can play just the two of us. It’s like a four-hour date night during the day. We incorporated some of the new rules, such as leaving the flag in when putting and dropping from knee height when taking a drop. Leaving the flagstick in came in handy during one rare instance when the stick's shadow created a perfect line from my ball to the hole. I made that putt.

I've been golfing for over 10 years now, so starting up my swing in the spring is not like reinventing the wheel anymore. But the problem with the swing thoughts turning into pure muscle memory is that it leaves too much space in my brain for other thoughts to creep in. Thoughts from the stresses of life off the course. Demons from the past rising when I thought they were long dead. I look to the sky but the angel clouds are powerless against these demons, the ones deep inside. So all I can do is swing, swing them away.

Golf Resolutions for 2019

We're a week into the new year and I haven't posted my annual golf resolutions. Sorry for procrastinating. First, how did I do with last year's resolutions?

Resolution #1: Continue to stay fit for golf.  So far, so good on this one. Even with the addition of ballroom dancing (aka "dancesport") to my fitness repertoire, I have maintained overall health. As I resolved last year, I've added regular foot care to my routine. I bought a battery-operated scrub brush with a pumice stone attachment to keep my feet callous-free.

Resolution #2: Break 80. Nope, not yet. In fact, I didn't even keep my handicap in 2018 (gasp!). As any East Coaster knows, it was an unusually rainy spring, summer and fall. Golf-wise, it was kind of a lost season. Due to muddy conditions and fairways that couldn't be mowed due to rain, I mainly shot rounds in the mid-90s. I couldn't bring myself to record scores, since they'd drop my glorious 14.5 handicap from 2017. Most of my 2018 season looked like this:

My errant pink ball, in jail. The flag is somewhere behind those trees.

I didn't start scoring in the upper 80s till November, when the weather dried out, but by then the handicap season was over. 

Resolution #3: Grow the game. I've been continuing to encourage the young golfers in my life to enjoy the game. My 10-year-old goddaughter has started playing tournaments and last summer I had the pleasure of playing another par-3 course with her. My oldest nephew continues to play golf with his friends. And my two youngest nephews, who are 5 and 7, now incorporate golf activities into their playtime. When they visit my house, they like to create putting practice surfaces using my yoga mats with hand weights propped underneath to simulate undulating greens. How cute is that!

Okay, so how about 2019?

Resolution #1: Continue to stay fit for golf.  I think this will be a permanent resolution. I see golfers out there walking with pull-carts or carrying bags well into their 70s and even 80s. If I want to be one of them someday, I need to take care of my health.

Resolution #2: Break 80. This is going to a resolution until I just finally do it. My all-time lowest score was 83, so it's just a matter of time on this one.

Resolution #3: Maintain a handicap. So much of golf depends on the weather. And though I can blame the rain for not making progress in 2018, I realize I could learn to play better in adverse conditions. Of course, it's easier when conditions are good. This winter, I've had a few stolen days when the weather was warm and dry enough to go out. Yesterday, we had a day with temps in the 50s, and I shot an 87. So things are looking up for 2019. Stay tuned!

The Other Dance Floor

Winter seemed to last forever. Hubby and I were so tired waiting for spring to actually spring, we decided to take up an off-season hobby that didn’t depend on the weather: ballroom dancing. After a few lessons learning basic steps in swing, chacha and fox trot, we were hooked. Once the weather actually did warm up, we decided to continue with dancing lessons throughout the golf season. I've found that dancing is a great complement to golf. My feet have become stronger from dancing, which has actually helped out my golf game. And both activities are not dissimilar. Here are:

6 Things Ballroom Dancing and Golf Have in Common

- They are both sports. Did you know ballroom dancing is a sport? It’s called dancesport. Forget Arthur Murray. No more "dancing like no one's watching." These days, thanks to shows like “Dancing with the Stars,” you have to dance like three judges are watching. And colleges have competitive ballroom dance teams, just like golf and other sports.

- They’re a lot harder than it looks. Professional golfers swing fast and smooth. Professional dancers step quickly and lightly. They make it look so easy. But it’s not. Both require technique, and you can feel like a beginner for years before you get the hang of it.

- Both require special shoes. Golf shoes have cleats and are built for comfort. But it was a revelation to me that ballroom dance shoes, which have steel shanks and sueded soles, are actually flexible and comfortable, even in a 2.5-inch heel. I mean, a sport that requires me to buy cute shoes? Yes, please!

- Both require good posture and a strong core. Who knew the chacha, which is all about the hip motion, would translate to a faster swing speed when you fire the hips in a golf shot?

- They both have a dance floor. Literally, in the case of ballroom dancing. And figuratively, in the case of golf, where “You’re on the dance floor” is what people say when your approach shot lands anywhere on the green.

- They are both sports that can last a lifetime. And if the day comes when hubby and I are so old we can no longer swing a golf club, I think we’ll at least be able to manage a waltz box step.

Now that spring has officially sprung, hubby and I have been golfing every weekend. But this past week, we’ve had rain every day. And this weekend looks like another soaker. Usually I’d be down about the weather, but now this just gives me an excuse to make hubby take me out to cut a rug. And if the rain keeps up, I just might have to switch the topic of this blog to ballroom dancing!

Ersatz Golf

So hubby and I finally got to play Pebble Beach last week. Wish I could say it was at the real course in California, but it was just a simulator round at a course in a neighboring county. With temps in the teens and no golf trips in sight, we decided to try a couple of golf substitutes to see if they even come close to the real thing.

The simulator round involved bringing our real golf bags to a real golf course. Out on an enclosed patio with space heaters, they'd set up a computer and hitting bay with a screen. It cost $45 an hour, which was enough time to play 9 holes. Using the computer, you pick a famous course you'd like to play -- we picked Pebble Beach. Before each shot, you drag a pointer in the direction you're aiming, and the screen view adjusts so it looks like you're facing that way.

The big projector screen reflects whatever is shown on the computer. Then, it's up to you to take a swing at a real ball with your real club. There's a lighted box area on the turf where you can tee up your ball or hit it off the mat and a camera device will register your swing. After you take your shot, the computer will show you some stats like your clubhead speed, yardage, etc. Both hubby and my shots were tracking about 20-50 yards shorter than normal, but this could have been due to the fact that it was about 30 degrees on the covered patio, even with space heaters around.

If you hit a bad shot, like I did when I was still getting used to the whole set up, you can end up off in the deep rough. But fortunately there aren't any bugs.

The computer will even show you the break on the green. On one shot, I had to hit out of a bunker. It's much easier when the sand isn't real. Once on the green, it's virtually impossible to make a decent putt. We were advised to set the game so that putts within 10 feet were gimmies. Otherwise, it might take a half hour to get through one hole.

Hubby and I got through 10 holes in the allotted hour, and we didn't do half bad. Hubby made a birdie and I made a few pars. Overall, it was fun, but I don't think I'd make a regular habit out of it. The projected screen didn't have high enough resolution to transport me to Pebble Beach in any way. While it was enjoyable to watch the computer-generated flyovers between holes on the screen, the rest of the scenery was uninspiring. There's nothing like looking out at the real ocean and feeling the warmth of real sun when you're playing in real life. 

The other golf substitute we tried was Top Golf. The outpost we went to was in a modern building with an industrial vibe.

You have to pay $5 to become a member, then you get charged by the hour for up to 6 people in one hitting bay. At the location we went to, it was $35 per hour.

A guest attendant brings you and your party to a covered hitting bay, where they have men's and ladies' clubs to use. You can also bring your own clubs. There's a computer screen where you can try a variety of target games and keep score. There's also a big coffee table surrounded by comfy sectional furniture, and you can order from a bar menu of things to eat and drink. Top Golf seems to be more of a social activity, like bowling, where even novices can enjoy themselves without pressure.

Of course, I was there to get my swing on. I wasn't impressed with the stock clubs, but even if I had brought my own, the balls they make you use are limited-flight balls, which really takes the air out of the whole venture. The farthest target was around 180 yards, and the net behind it was about 200, so the focus was more on taking aim at a flag and hitting straight. The hitting bay is completely open in the front, so even with heat on the other sides, you can feel the chill on a cold winter day.

The Top Golf tab was about $105 for 2 hours with food and drink, so it was pricier than the simulator round. Would I do either again? Well, I'm glad I tried these substitutes and I did have fun. But I'd rather wait for a spring thaw since neither was as good as the real thing.