Golf Fore the Good

In the course of hosting Golf Fore the Good, I’ve made some interesting contacts. Note worthy web sites and products have been brought to my attention. GFTG has opened up correspondence with some great lovers of golf via email. The coolest thing is that people send me stuff. Really, they do.

It’s nice that there are people who seem to value my opinion, though I suspect their impetus is more likely self-motivated than an actual deep, abiding respect for my work. After all, networking creates some of the best free publicity out there on the web, a fact that is not lost on my cyber associates.

I haven’t specifically ruled out the possibility of crafting reviews on some of the products sent my way but haven’t yet jumped at the opportunity. I don’t expect to turn Golf Fore the Good into a top ten list of must-have golf items – although, let’s leave open that possibility just in case Callaway or TaylorMade decide to send me a new set of clubs, or Nike wants to outfit me in their very best performance wear.

Yes, people do send me stuff, but nothing quite so lucrative. With a swing rather less impressive than Lorena’s and not having the legs of Natalie Gulbis, I’m not expecting a substantial windfall of new golf equipment anytime soon.

However, a few weeks ago I was contacted by a maker of a product with a pretty catchy email, something to the effect of the following:

“Imagine you’re on a dream golf vacation at Pebble Beach and wake up with a sore shoulder or achy back, with a tee time just hours away, leaving you unable to swing a golf club. Don’t sacrifice your once in a life time opportunity! Find relief with our proven system that offers a new solution for reviving tired muscles.”

Being of the age where aches and pains seem to be a constant companion, I thought these guys might be on to something. After a few more email exchanges I was told they would ship me their product in the hopes I would try it and post a review. In all fairness, I will withhold the actual name of the product until I can give it a proper trial and a serious evaluation.

The package arrived at my office the day after Labor Day via UPS, marked “Extremely Urgent.” While I thought that was a bit over the top, it did make me feel rather important.

I tore open the box with great anticipation. A silver bullet; the fountain of youth; a magic solution; just what did this carton really contain?

The contents were interesting if not a little intimidating. I found a very professional folder explaining the basics of Electronic Muscle Stimulation and the science behind it. I also found some wires, gel packs, a battery, and a complex electrical device with numerous buttons and an LCD display, along with an extremely in-depth and rather worrisome pamphlet explaining all the do’s and don’ts of usage. I wasn’t sure if I’d been shipped a do-it-yourself kit for the world’s smallest nuclear power plant or a suicide bomber apparatus.

In actuality, it all looked a little too complicated at first glance. Besides, I had a tee time. I stuffed everything back in the box – with care, mind you, so as not to set off any untimely explosives – and set off for a round of golf.

With all good intentions, I pulled the box out occasionally over the next few weeks. My schedule has been jammed with golf tournaments, member-guest events and invitationals, not to mention the purely recreational rounds necessary to keep this golfer satiated. There is little time for anything except golf – and more golf – and an occasion stop at the office and pit stop at home to run and feed the dog.

Though I have read and reread the user’s guide at odd moments, I haven’t found a personal comfort level or the time to really investigate the apparatus. I must admit, with winter golf approaching, and the aches and pains that go along with it, the system is becoming more and more appealing.

Mind you, my family has dubbed me “the worrier.” If there is something to fret about, I can work it to a frazzle. If I haven’t anything to be concerned about, I’ll find something.

I am also big on research. I can spend days on the internet pouring over facts and figures before I make a decision on pretty much anything. I can analyze any situation to death. I rarely jump before I’ve investigated every possible angle and landing area. You can just imagine how long it takes me to decide on which club to hit on a downhill lie to an elevated green with a knock-down wind onto fast greens. The stuff in the box looked way more complicated than that.

That being said, I continue my slow but steady perusal of the contents of “the box.” I am growing more comfortable with the idea of trying it out, despite the catalogue of “contra-indications, precautions and warnings” that fill a substantial portion of the instruction manual. My tendency for over-scrutinization has me considering throwing together an advisory board for the procedure. I’m contemplating a panel of representatives from Physiotherapy Associates (the Official Provider of Fitness Training and Physical Rehabilitation for the PGA TOUR; what’s good enough for those guys is good enough for me), the FDA and the Surgeon General’s office; for good measure, I may include a master electrician and a licensed paramedic. One should always err on the side of caution.

I have hopes a session using the product will leave me feeling like I had a great massage after a rough day on the golf course. Or perhaps the program could be used to revive and stimulate my muscles before I tee off, resulting in improved performance and the round of my life. I won’t know until I bite the bullet and give it a whirl.

Most people who know me will assure you that a single, in-depth session with a sports psychologist would better serve my golf game than a life time of massages, but I’ll try anything once. Anyone care to send me some motivational CDs?