The Coolest Vest for Golf

It's mid-August and I've only been playing golf once a week because it's just so darn hot. Next week, temps are predicted to be in the 90s again. My golf buddy Seri has a new accessory to beat the heat, a cooling vest. Cooling vests also called evaporative cooling vests or ice vests in case you want to shop for one. They're used by athletes, construction workers and anyone who spends a lot of time in the hot sun. Ice vests actually have packs of gel cubes sewn in them and you need to freeze them overnight. Seri's cooling vest only needs to be soaked in cold water and it stays hydrated for hours.

And it's kind of a cute look, no?

Here's a close-up:

Now all Seri needs is a matching ice hat and she'll be all set for the rest of summer.

Whip It Good

I played 27 holes yesterday. I only meant to play 18, but you know how it goes. The first 18 was colder and cloudier and windier than the forecast predicted. I forgot my thick knitted winter hat and had to make due with a fleece headband and a regular baseball hat. I wore two layers of shirts and a down vest, and when the wind kicked up, I threw on the wrinkled polyester windbreaker I keep stuffed in my golf bag. Seri improvised her outfit with a wool overskirt worn over black leggings, plus purple knit legwarmers:

Here's a close-up on the legwarmers:

I thought it was a cute outfit, but I never wore legwarmers when they were in fashion in the '80s, so I can't imagine wearing them now that they're back in fashion. I am definitely not a fashionista. Seri and Bea always manage to add flair to their golf outfits, while I prefer more utilitarian styles.

It was a struggle for us all to keep warm yesterday, but by the end of the round, the sun was beginning to make an appearance. So Bea suggested playing some more at another course. Seri went home but I joined Bea. I played till 6pm, when my hubby gets home from work, and finished 9 holes. Bea went on to finish 18. She's truly a golf nut.

I slept well last night. My swing felt different, somehow better. Maybe it's the excitement of spring, but I felt like I had some whip in my swing. It reminded me of the old days, back when I was just starting to learn golf and I could "swing with abandon." It was also refreshing to be outside all day. Golf is a kind of therapy for me, and since I haven't had it for months, I had been going a little crazy.

I still haven't started scoring yet. But I will soon. For now, it's enough just to let it all go and whip it good.

Opening Day

It’s been a long cold winter. It’s April, and morning temps are still in the 30s. I haven’t played much golf at all this year, except for a quick trip to So Cal and the unseasonably warm day here and there. But yesterday, the weather was grand. Sprinkles in the morning, followed by bright sun and highs in the low 60s.

Things have changed among me and my regular golf gals. Bea got back into real estate and is too busy showing houses to play golf these days. Seri’s schedule is full, too, since she now goes to English classes four days a week. I have been crazy busy myself, with a sudden influx of freelance work, which has kept me busy in the off season, but also resulted in more hours at a desk. Last week, the tightness in my trapezius muscles caused a morning back spasm that had me running to the doctor. The acute pain went away after a few days, and at first I was afraid to golf right away, but I tried hitting some balls at the range, and my back actually felt better.

Yesterday, I was still a little nervous about golfing. But I already have an appointment with a physical therapist next week, so I figured if I hurt myself, it would be fixed soon enough. Seri has Fridays off, so she and I met at Pine Ridge for a 10:30am round. The course was oddly deserted, with only a foursome of OMGs (old man golfers) in front of us, and a twosome behind. I figured the threat of rain had scared everyone away.

It felt like Seri and I had the course to ourselves, and we had a blast. Seri was her usual bubbly self, an endless stream of self-commentary about her stance, her swing, her ball flight. I was my usual self, too, a cheerleading Pollyanna, exclaiming “Good ball!” and “Look at it roll!” whenever Seri hit a good shot. Our balls were rolling an unusually long way, due to the hardness of the ground, which hadn’t thawed yet. Underlying my display of glee, of course, was a mindfulness of my back. 

To reduce tension in my shoulders, I focused on getting reacquainted with the familiar little things about the game: the goose poop everywhere, the itch in my throat from the grass, and my superstition that, when marking my ball with my bumblebee ball marker, the butt of the bee must always face the direction of the hole. 

Also, Seri brought a new snack, a packet of the most light, crisp, and delicious cracker I’d had in a while. They were sesame-flavored with a sprinkling of crystallized sugar on top, and possibly a touch of coconut flavor. The package wrapper had a picture of a woman in a green skirt riding on a scooter. Seri told me the Korean writing translated to “great beautiful smile.” I kept the wrapper so I could take it on my next trip to the Korean grocery and buy the same crackers.

I did notice that Seri had suddenly gotten almost as long as me. Her usual ball flight on a drive was a high arc and a dead drop with barely any roll. Yesterday, her ball flight was low, with a roll about a third as long as the ball carried in the air. She kept complaining that she was moving her head during the swing. I told her whatever she was doing, she should keep at it.

On the back nine, the pace slowed. We had caught up to the group ahead. While waiting to tee off on a hole, we saw a goose just laying there among a bunch of other geese. At first we feared it was dead. Seri told me she had once struck and killed a chicken at a golf course in New Zealand. The kiwi golf course owners told her she could take the chicken home and have it for dinner, but she couldn’t bear it. She felt bad enough she’d brought its life to an end with a golf shot. Here at the home course, the goose got up and walked away, and we were relieved. I don’t know how to cook a goose anyway.

At the 18^th hole, I was doubly relieved that I could still hit a 200-yard tee shot. There is nothing like the sound and feel of a crack-a-lackin’ big bop. Neither Seri nor I kept score, but I knew I had parred two holes and bogeyed most. Later, I learned why the course had been so empty. It was the Orioles’ first game of the season, so everyone in town was either heading down to Camden Yards or staying home to watch it on TV. The Orioles won, with an 8^th-inning grand slam. So, it turned out to be an auspicious start to the season, for everyone.

Spring Flowers

Got these cool new crystal-encrusted ball markers the other day. My golf glove has a snap-on ball marker, but I found out I can replace it with these cute, colorful snap-on flowers made by a company called Bonjoc. They have lots of color combinations, with glitter and without. I bought them for $4.95 each from a retailer called Ready Golf, which sells every kind of ball marker imaginable. They even have ball marker bracelets. Seri gave me the butterfly-shaped ball marker shown below. It's magnetic and affixes to a hat clip and she got it in Korea. Now I want a Hello Kitty one too.

Just a little bling for the putting green that's totally cheerful for spring, whether I make my putts or not!