The Opposite of Performance Anxiety

Bea and I played 36 holes yesterday. Again. It was a hot, humid Monday, and because it poured down buckets of rain the day before, the ground was drenched and the wet grass clung to our balls without letting them roll. In the couple weeks I was on vacation, I could see that Bea had gotten her drive back, rocketing 200-plus yards most of the time. Meanwhile, I seem to have lost my drive, with my tee shots landing only in the 160-165 range. The starter matched us up with a rather impressive 85-year-old guy who played from the white tees and definitely held his own. On a couple of his approach shots, it seemed like he had a remote control device on the ball, making it curve toward the flagstick like a toy electric airplane coming in for a landing. It reminded us that we still have at least 40 more years of golf ahead of us. If an OMG could maneuver the ball with that kind of finesse and ability, even with one foot in the grave, then we could do it. 

Of course, I am not quite there yet. I shot a 96 on the first 18 and was looking forward to seeing if Bea's theory about aways playing better the second time around would hold true. It turns out, at least on that day, it didn't. As soon as we started out on the replay, I realized that I was hungry and hot and worried that I should go home and do some work instead of staying out to play.

But there was one nice moment on the second round when we’d caught up to the foursome in front of us and they decided to let us play through. They were three guys playing with one gal, and from the looks of it, they were slowed down by having to stop for teachable moments with her. After they teed off on a downhill par 3, they huddled off to the side of the green like ladies in waiting.

Once upon a time, the thought of people watching would have made me nervous. It still does, on occasion. But I had just played this same hole earlier in the day and parred it, so I knew exactly which club to hit and with what kind of swing. After one practice swing, I successfully pulled off the shot and my ball landed within birdie distance of the hole. Bea also made the green, hitting a few feet farther than me, but still only a putt or two from the hole.

When we got down to the green, the three guys in the foursome all smiled and beamed. I grinned back and said something like, “Putting the pressure on us, huh?” And even though we didn't birdie, we sure made par. And they all said, "Nice pars!" and I think I remember them clapping too.

With the ease with which we appeared to par that hole, they must have thought we'd go on to do the same for the rest of the 18 holes. Little did they know I would go on to card two snowmen and a lollipop and end up shooting a pitiful, treading-water 98. But for one brief moment, Bea and I looked like pros to a happenstance audience. If only they knew.

18 + 18 = 91

It was a very golfy day. I hadn’t played golf for 2 straight weeks because it has been hot as Hades around here. Seri was away in Korea and Bea was out with back pain, so I hadn’t seen either of them for almost a month. Yesterday, the three of us met for coffee and catch-up chitchat, and today we got down to business. We teed off at 8:46am, with Debbie Harry completing our foursome. It was just like old times, except earlier in the morning. The sun was out and the humidity was high, so our energy was not the greatest. It was like the first day of school after a long, hot summer.

I wore the new visor hat that Seri had brought me from Korea. We were like two little golfers on the prairie.

The scene of this happy reunion was Pine Ridge, where I’d played a few times since shooting 90 at Fox Hollow. I have never managed to break 100 at Pine Ridge, since it’s a longer course with a higher slope rating. Today was no different, and I shot 106. After 18 holes, Bea said she was feeling warmed up, and asked if I wanted to play another 18. I was just getting warmed up, too, so I said yes, even though it meant I had to make some calls and cancel some things, including telling my hubby that I couldn’t make it to the grocery store today because my putter was en fuego.

But who cared about making dinner when my adrenaline was already pumping and my eyes had grown big, and I had that feeling you get after coming off a roller coaster ride and you want to go again, right away, before you lose your nerve. I was tired and achy, but it was nothing a big juicy hot dog and an ice-cold diet cola wouldn’t fix.

So, after Seri and Debbie Harry returned to their cars and drove away, Bea and me teed off again. And in the end, I was glad I did, because I shot a 91. On the front nine, I managed to keep it all under control and shot an encouraging 48. It looked good for breaking 100, but on the back nine, I never did worse than a double-bogey and actually birdied a par 5 and a par 3. I think it may have been my first birdie on a par 5, but I know for a fact that’s the first time I ever birdied twice in a round.

“You see?” said Bea, “it’s easy when you play all day.”
Yes, it seems easy when you play all day. The hard part is getting a whole day to play.

18 + 18 = 36

I played 36 holes yesterday. It was Bea’s idea. I’ve never played a back-to-back round. Bea said she used to do it often, during a seven-year stretch when she was “crazy” about golf and played almost every day. That was before she had to stay home with a kid. Now that her daughter’s graduated college and flown the nest, it’s back to golf like crazy. Like me, she’s recovering from a back injury, but last week she said she’s ready for 36.

We had a 10:04am tee time. It’s mostly older, retired people at the golf course in the morning, so we were paired with two men who looked like they had fought in WWI. The kind who wear saggy white undershirts and knee socks with sandals and just don’t give a darn anymore. After Bea and I teed off and they saw our drives roll down the fairway, one of them chortled, “Looks like we got ourselves a couple of ringers!”

The weather was supposed to be sunny with highs in the mid-70s. Instead it was overcast and in the high 60s and stayed that way all day. Plus, the greens were being aerated. For a $3 discount, we were treated to perforated greens sprinkled with sand. One benefit of the dot matrix was that occasionally it provided a putting line:

As for how I played, well, I rode the first round and shot a 98. I walked the second round and shot a 101. But I had more fun during the second 18 holes, when it was just me and Bea playing and we didn’t have to worry about the politeness and protocol of playing with strangers. If only I hadn’t shot that snowman on a par 3 and that bacon and egg on a par 5, I would have scored better too. It also would have helped if the greens weren’t riddled with holes.

The good news is Mike’s pitching and chipping lesson has already started to pay off, as evidenced by some of my 40-50 yard pitches that landed close to the pin:

After 36 holes and 8 hours at the golf course, I was pretty exhausted. The day went by so fast. Almost too fast. Golf is like that. When you're focused on chasing around a little ball, it's easy to lose track of time. And when you're not focused on your own ball, you're looking out for where your playing partners have hit, making sure you're not in their way, tending the flagstick, keeping a fast pace, and performing all the other niceties that make a round of golf civilized fun.

I do remember pausing at one point, when I was waiting for Bea to take a shot, and looking around to just breathe the fresh air and enjoy the scenery, at the center of which was a beckoning green.

 

At the end of the day, I was blissfully happy, but tired to the bone. I’m not sure I’d do it again, but I’d never say never!