The Tour Class

It's the weekend of The Players tournament, which usually marks the official start of my golf season. Although I've gotten almost a dozen rounds in, it's only now that I've started to focus and begun scoring in the low 90s again. I've been playing about 3 times a week and the past month has been kind of a blur. I'm realizing more and more that, in golf, mental focus is as important as muscle memory. After all, your body can only do as much as your mind tells your body to do.

Most of the time out there on the local course, it's just average amateurs trying to get a workout. But last week, I had the chance to play a few holes with two guys that were quite possibly tour class.

It was a late afternoon on a weekday, after I'd finished 18 holes with a couple of Korean golfer gals, and we got a slot to tee off again and try to get another 9 holes in. On the tee before our slot was a pair of guys hitting from the blues. Most guys hit from the whites, and the blue tees are right next to the starter shack, so when anyone tees off from the blues, you can't help but notice. After they hit two perfect, monster drives, I noticed that even the starter was impressed, rolling his eyes and throwing out his hands towards them as if to say, "Those show-offs!"

The two guys were young and clearly tour long, but they also carried themselves with the kind of gracious demeanor that you see in professional golfers, the kind who have won some and lost some but have the confidence in knowing that, on any given day, they are still much better than most. They walked nonchalantly, with their bags slung like quivers of arrows against their backs and not a care in the world.

They'd obviously made the green in two, and by the time my threesome teed off, they'd already cleaned up their putts. We kept pace with them for 6 holes, and then my two playing partners said they needed to stop and head home to pick up their kids from school and get dinner on the table. I was playing relatively well and wanted to finish an even 9 so I continued solo.

I made par on the 7th hole and found myself waiting at the next hole, a par-3 semi-peninsular green that reminds me of the 17th hole at TPC Sawgrass, where The Players is held. The tour-class twosome was waiting on the tee. Things always slow down at a par 3. I rode up, but not too close, and pretended to check my phone so they wouldn't think I was watching. After I'd heard the sound of two balls being hit, I drove my cart closer.

"Hey, do you want to hit on with us?" one of the guys called out.
"Uh, okay, sure," I said. "If you don't mind." I felt like I'd been invited to dance onstage at a rock concert.

As I rode down the winding path down to the forward tees, I saw two balls on the green, one of which was long left from the pin and the other which was about 6 feet from the hole. "One of you made a great shot!" I shouted.

Then it was my turn to make a great shot. Pin was front so all I needed was a wedge. The trick was to keep it straight and not let any left spin pull the ball toward the water. I addressed the ball and took a deep breath. Then, swing! The ball flew high and landed soft -- about 4 feet from the hole. I was elated.

The two guys both said, "Great shot!" and then it was on to the business of putting. The long-left guy had no chance. With a sloping downhill green, it was all he could do to make double bogey. The 6-footer guy, well, I could tell he wanted a birdie. But he missed it for par. I didn't make birdie either, but I parred it. I think the 6-footer guy was relieved that I didn't beat him on that hole.

As we headed to the next hole, the 6-footer guy told me he was from Canada, in town visiting his girlfriend, but that he "spends a lot of time in Florida."

"Oh really?" I said. "Trying to make the tour?"
And he said, "Yeah, pretty much."
I didn't have time to probe further. The next hole was the par 5 Number 9, the last of my day, and I wanted to make it a good one.

The two guys hit way over the trees, cutting off the massive dogleg left fairway which I can only hope to land clean with a bit of a draw from the way, way forward tees. I hit a decent drive, but I was still away so I rode ahead to hit my second and third shots. On the third, my club face was slightly open at impact, sending my ball right of the green, between a bunker and the cart path. I trusted that the two guys would hit arrow-straight into the green, so I had no qualms about riding to my ball even though they were behind me.

I waited till they took their approach shots to get on in two. Then it was my turn to try and get on in four. I had wedge in hand again, exhaled and made the shot. To my surprise, it stuck right by the pin, within about 3 feet.

"Good shot!" the guys shouted. As the long-left guy walked up the pull the pin, he said, "I thought it went in the hole!" They seemed genuinely impressed. The cynical side of me thought they could have been patronizing me since I am a woman. But the hopeful side wants to believe that they really were impressed. A good golf shot is a good golf shot, no matter who makes it or where.

They were away, so they putted out. And then it was time for me to make a 3-footer for par. Since I was leaving after this hole, and they were playing on, I told them to go ahead so I wouldn't hold them up.

"If I miss my putt, I don't want any witnesses," I told them. We shook hands, and I waved them off saying, "Maybe I'll see you on the tour someday."

After that, it was just me and the hole. I wish I could say I made the putt for par. But I bogeyed. Still, I felt inspired. I know I will never be a member of the tour class. But at least for a hole or two, I can act like it.

Golfing Like a Rock Star

This week is sort of turning out to be celebrity week on the golf course. First I get randomly paired with the chef and bartender of a celebrity restaurant, then today I got paired with the dad of the drummer in a band whose album just made number one on the Billboard rock music chart today. Of course, I have never heard of this band since I am well over the age of 40, but I am sure my college-age nephew knows who they are. Also in my random foursome was a 70-something retired couple who had just picked up golf in their 60s. It was a relaxed round with upbeat strangers, though I only shot a 98. My handicap index is trending toward 20.1 and I am not exactly happy about it. This season, the allergies have kicked in with a vengeance, so I partly blame the constant distraction of an itchy throat and nasal congestion.

In other news, I have started applying to join a ladies league in earnest. I know I've mentioned joining a women's league before, but now I think I am going to jump in and do it. I sent feelers out to four different leagues, and so far the most appealing group seems to be a Tuesday 9-hole league at a nearby course. I really prefer an 18-hole league, but the one I want to join started their season in April so it may be too late. The Tuesday 9-hole league has a spring coffee kick-off meeting at the end of the month and starts their season in May. I'm going to attend the meeting and check out the membership first to see if I'll fit it. I spoke to the league VP on the phone, and she seemed friendly. She has an Irish accent and said she often walks the course, so if she's representative of the group, they could be my kind of gals. We shall see!

Bugging Out

So it was a pretty fun golfy day. Had a 1:58pm tee time but was at the range by 12:45pm. Accidentally bought a medium bucket of range balls instead of a small but took my time and hit almost all of them. I was golfing solo, and when I got to the starter box, there was not another female to be seen. Fortunately, I was paired with two laid-back hipster twentysomethings, who worked as the executive chef and bartender at a certain celebrity farm-to-table diner concept in the city. The chef was a good golfer but the bartender, who had grown up golfing, hadn't picked up a club for 5 years. I told him, "It's just like riding a bicycle," which as everyone knows, it really isn't.

A couple holes in, Bea rode up and joined us. She knew I had an afternoon tee time, and had just finished playing a morning 18 at another course. She played like crap because she hadn't eaten for two days, or so she said. I think Bea tends to exaggerate sometimes.

Anyway, I played like crap too. I was playing long, but pulled drives and 3-putts gave me trouble. Overall, though, it was a fun day of fair-to-mediocre golf. The worst part was once I got home. I went to take a shower and took out my contacts like a usually do, which leaves me practically blind. After the water got running, I stepped in and was just settling into the steam, when I looked down and saw a large fuzzy black spot on the shower floor. I kicked at it and it barely moved, so I leaped out of the shower, grabbed my eyeglasses and looked back down into the shower to see the biggest stinkbug I have ever seen in my life. It must have been at least an inch long. It looked like a miniature baby turtle that had been flipped onto its back and couldn't right itself. I frantically went for the toilet paper but my wet hands made the roll spin in futility like a slot machine wheel that turns up all lemons. Finally I got enough paper off the roll to make a wad, which I used to bundle up that stinkbug like a swaddled baby, which I then unceremoniously tossed into the toilet bowl and flushed. I'm sorry if I offend any insect-lovers or if there's some news channel in a parallel insect world that is breaking news about the latest flushing-an-insect-down-the-toilet scandal, but that is what happened in my bathroom tonight.

Moral of the story: After a long day of golf in nice weather, leave on the contact lenses in the shower!

An All-You-Can-Golf Buffet

So my favorite public course has a special deal going this season. It’s $199 a month for unlimited play on weekday afternoons, with cart, plus discounts if you buy more than a month’s worth at a time. It was an offer I couldn’t resist, so I bought two month’s worth. I’ve played yesterday and today, and if it weren’t for cold and rain in the forecast the rest of this week, I would be playing more. I already have tee times lined up for four out of five days next week. Fortunately, work is slow this year, so I've got plenty of time for golf.

I started scoring, and it's been nothing spectacular (97, 102, 99). But I haven't been trying too hard yet. I'm really enjoying just swinging the club as fast as I can without hurting myself. I think my monster drives are coming back. The other day I pounded a tee shot down the middle of the fairway about 206 yards. My 3-wood has been scooting 170-plus yards in a reliable way. I've been making par 4's in two and par 5's in 3 like you're supposed to. This morning, at the range, I was able to hit my driver so it rolled out to 200 yards. This is the first time I've ever done that in my whole life. 

Of course, my putting is a mess and my sand game needs work, but I'm just getting started. Time to break open a new box of pink balls and let the good times roll!

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.

A Sputtering Start

The first day of spring was five days ago but temps are still sub-40 around here. Winter has definitely overstayed its welcome, but that didn't stop me from trying to play the first round of the year. Seri had made a tee time for this morning, and we were joined by Bea and the husband of one of Seri's church friends. The forecast called for freezing rain, but I checked the radar and the green splotches looked like they'd pass quickly around noon. So off we went, all of us dressed in so many layers of clothing we looked like homeless people.

My first tee shot went dead left into the trees, and it took me more than a few shots to get out and on the green. Bea hit not one but two trees on the first hole, with the ball ricocheting back toward her both times. Seri was the only one who appeared to have ever picked up a club before, and she calmly went about keeping her ball in the fairway like you're supposed to.

The second hole went about the same for me, and since it's after March 15, I dutifully wrote down +3 on my scorecard. It's a good thing I'm not superstitious or those triple bogeys on the first two holes would've spooked me for the rest of the year. Then it started to rain. My card got soaked pretty quickly, along with my gloves. I had an umbrella with me and as soon as I opened it, it turned inside out, just like you see in the cartoons when the comic hero is having a really bad day.

But I was happy to be out, even in the cold drizzly rain. My driver never got going, but I did make some decent iron and chip shots. I also made a couple of good putts, much to my surprise. Because of the cold, my brain sort of froze and I relied on mostly muscle memory to play. After my card got wet, I stopped keeping score, but I recall making at least one par.

I've made some changes to my swing this year, including taking a wider stance and going back to a strong grip, instead of the neutral grip I paid $175 to learn from that club pro in California. Also, I am really trying to keep my arms straight and away from my body to create a wider, more powerful arc when I swing. And I'm trying to engage my abs more. I've been taking pilates for a year now, it's about time I use my core.

This morning, we made it through 9 holes and then Seri suggested we stop. The temps were hovering around 39 degrees, and though it had stopped raining, the dampness in our clothes lingered. So we stopped and got rain checks from the pro shop. The forecast promises sunny weather in the high 50s next week, so I'm sure we'll get out there again soon.

Snow, Snow on the Range...

This is a picture of the 9th hole at my favorite local golf course. It was taken on March 7, about two weeks ago. As you can see, the course was snow-covered, but I was meeting Seri for pre-season coffee at the clubhouse. Surprisingly, we were not the only ones there. Even with the frigid cold winter we had, there were some diehards who played through the season. I recognized a white-haired senior player with a handlebar moustache, and he sat with me and Seri, telling us about frozen putting greens that played hard as glass, and other details from his winter golf rounds. Mr. Moustache knew the Defectress and asked if we'd seen her. I told him we hadn't seen her since November. I didn't tell him the truth, which was that I really didn't want to see her. Late in the season, I finally got tired of her smug arrogance and the noisy wheels of her electric cart just started to annoy me. So, I won't be calling the Defectress to play any time soon. But that was decided last year. This is now, and time to think positive.

Walking back to the parking lot from the clubhouse, I discovered something new about the local golf course: it is open for cross-country skiing in the winter. I had cross-county skied once in my life, years ago. It was a great workout. Maybe next year, I will try it again. Here's a picture of a cross-country skier gliding past the snack shop at the turn:

Another thing I discovered is that the range is open even when there's snow on the ground.

I'd always thought they closed the range on snow-covered days. I mean, isn't it hard to find white practice balls buried in white snow? But apparently, golfers are allowed to swing away and staffers are sent out to collect the balls on foot. So, of course, I bought myself a small bucket and flailed away.

Today, all the snow has melted and the course is open for play. I've hit the range twice in the past two weeks, but haven't gotten my nerve up to make a tee time. One more range session and I think I'll be ready.

But ready or not, I will play.