Sweet 16.9L

Big news. I finally registered for an official handicap. I have long played with an unofficial handicap index, but since breaking 90 a couple of times this season, I decided I'm good enough at golf to start recording my scores in a public fashion. The process was surprisingly simple. I paid $25 at my local course and got an email with a login name and password for a Maryland State Golf Association account, which allowed me to sign in and post scores. I posted 15 rounds since the end of April, including various local and away courses. Using 6 of these 15 scores, the MSGA website generated a "trend handicap" of... drum roll please... 16.9L! The L stands for "local handicap" which could mean a lot of different things, but in my case it means my number is a trend handicap. Honestly, I thought my handicap would be in the 20s, since I mostly shoot in the 90s, but my local course is considered a tough course for the ladies, so this helps bring my number down.

My handicap is not official yet. If you look up my name in the MSGA player lookup, you would find "NH" next to my name, which means "no handicap." Official handicaps are calculated using the lowest 10 of a golfer's most recent 20 rounds, so I will need to post 5 more rounds. If I want a lower handicap index, I better make them good ones!

A Change of Mood

Been playing plenty of golf the past month. Hubby and I took a road trip to see his family in Cincinnati and bookended the week with 2 rounds of golf. On the way there, we played Granville, which is a Donald Ross course near a quaint college town. It was the first Donald Ross course I ever played, and as soon as I stepped onto the first tee, I felt steeped in historical ambiance. There's something undeniably appealing about playing a time-worn course designed by one of the great golf architects. The trees are mature and the humped fairways drain exceptionally well, despite a deluge of rainfall the day before.

On the way home, we played Lodestone, which is a newish course at the Wisp resort in the mountains of Western Maryland. This course was gorgeous in its own way, with well-manicured greens and pretty valley vistas.

I shot a 98 at both courses, which isn't great for me, but isn't terrible. Yesterday, hubby and I played Maryland National, which is a bit closer to home. It's another nice-looking course, with sweeping views of farmland and ritzy houses. But hubby forgot to follow Couples Rules and I found myself irretrievably agitated, so I ending up shooting a 102.

Today I wanted a quiet solo round. The Defectress had an early tee time at the local course, but it was too early for me, plus last week, she was chattier than usual, and my game suffered so I thought I should take a break from her.

Somehow I lucked out because there were lots of empty tee slots in the late-morning hours, so I booked myself a tee time after 10:30am, when it appeared no was one signed up for several slots before or after. Of course, this didn't preclude the possibility of getting paired with a walk-on. When I approached the starter, a wizened gentleman wearing a Torrey Pines cap, he said, "Playing by yourself, are you?" And I replied, "Well, hopefully." Starters always seem surprised by people wanting to play alone, especially women. They look at you like you're drinking alone at a bar. 

   "I do have a walk-on that might be coming up," the starter said. "Would you want to play with him?"

   "It depends," I said, explaining that I've had some not-so-pleasant experiences playing with cigar-smoking, flask-sipping types. 

   "Do you want to have a look at him first?"
   "Okay sure. If he looks okay, I'll give you a signal," I said, making a thumbs up sign. "And if I don't want to play with him, I'll do this," I said, waving my hand like I was swatting away a fly.

   The starter laughed.

Another old gentleman approached the tee box, someone who looked like he might need help sighting his golf ball in rough grass. The starter and I both thought it was the walk-on. I gave the starter the "no go" signal. But it turned out he was just there to watch his grandsons take a golf clinic, and he was looking for some friendly chitchat to kill time. Some starters are kind of like bartenders. You can just walk up and start talking to them about anything. The starter box should have a sign saying "the doctor is in."

So the starter started chatting with the grandpa, and I got waved along to the first tee, blessedly alone.

I was behind a foursome of portly older ladies, and there was a slow threesome of beginner guys behind me. I was able to take my time and line up putts and I even kept the ball in the fairway most of the time. There was nothing remarkable about the way I played except I felt calm, cool and collected. I enjoyed myself tremendously. I even birdied a hole. A ranger saw it and called out, "Nice birdie!"

When you're playing alone, rangers look out for you. They'll even help you find your ball if you lose it. Not that I needed help today, but it was nice to know a ranger was around if you needed one. I stopped and chatted with one of the rangers at the turn. He said he used to play golf, but doesn't much anymore due to a bad foot. He said he misses it. "Golf has some great rewards," he said wistfully.

I was 9 over at the turn, and continued to make straight bogeys for the next 8 holes. I had some birdie and par chances, but my putter, while passable, wasn't performing as well as it could.

On the last hole, a par 5, I hit a decent tee shot, and then hit two 3-wood shots to get myself within a wedge shot of the hole. I'd remembered to bring my laser rangefinder, so I knew what would get me to the pin. And then I executed the shot, exactly how I planned. The picture below shows how close I landed. Yes, golf does have some great rewards.  

The best part was, I made the putt for par and I ended up with an 89 for the round, making this the fourth time I have ever broken 90. Afterwards, I was simply filled with glee. There's nothing like a good round to change your mood. As most true golfers know, a good round can change everything.