It’s not that I haven’t been thinking about blogging, but life is just too darn short these days - and the summer even shorter. I haven’t abandoned Golf Fore the Good altogether but I’ll sure have a lot of catching up to do come the chill winds of fall. Meanwhile, let’s all squeeze in as many possible rounds of golf as we can. Until the fall, I leave you with a few random golf thoughts:
Here I am facing the fall member-guest in just a few days when it seems like the season has barely begun. This is an event I look forward to each year as I play with a very special friend and mentor. I hope to live up to her expectations!
My brother and nemesis on the golf course reports his handicap has crashed. I say he is playing way too much golf… and I need to work less and play more. He has lined his pockets with my money and I want it back!
My new pet peeve: members who bitch about course conditions, hole after hole. It is what it is. The greens have to be punched at some point. Get over it. They’ll come back better than ever.
I think I might be catching on to that “press” thing… and liking it… it sure has worked for me this year. How about that $20 putt on 18, guys?
Practice might not make perfect but it sure does help build confidence.
Just because you break 80 (or 90 or 100) a couple of times, it doesn’t mean you’ve really mastered the game. As my friend said the other day, this game has a way of jumping up and biting you in the behind at any given moment. Don’t I know it.
I found a couple great new playing partners this summer but sure did miss my old friend anyway. Jack, it’s just not the same without you! Miss you, toots!
Those of you who have followed this blog for a while might be aware that I have a bit of a “golf thing” with my brother - a continuous blood match, played out several times each year. I’ve been almost too busy to sharpen up my competitive edge, but not too busy to shoot a few emails back in forth in preparation for our upcoming match. The exchange read something like this:
Dearest brother: I am so looking forward to taking back all the money you stole from me last spring during Master’s week. At least this time I am not picking up my clubs stone cold after a four month winter layoff while you lolly-gagged about in the southern sunshine practicing your game. By the way, we’ll be playing my home course. Bring cash.
Dear sister: I hope you find some time to practice. Retirement is agreeing with my game and I’m playing to a single digit. But since you’ll insist on playing from those forward tees, let’s play even. Read more…
It has been raining so often this spring in south eastern New England that most of us have simply given up on seeing the sun. It’s been great weather for ducks but not for golf. So when the Weather Channel said “chance of a few showers” and the radar looked clear of any huge lurking green globs, we thought we’d take a chance and hit the links.
Rained out of our usual Friday golf match for the past few weeks, my two friends and I were desperate for some stress relief. Kids, grand-kids, job issues, health issues - the tension had pooled up inside us like the puddles in the streets. We were saturated to our very bones with everyday anxieties. After the horrendous weather of the last few weeks, a few sprinkles couldn’t deter us from our intended tee time.
The clubhouse was jammed with bodies after a men’s tournament held that morning. Already primed with a few pops, the peanut gallery was in rare form as the three of us checked in at the desk. The heckling was loud and unforgiving. “Go on; get out there! Afraid of a little rain?” We were not just the only women in sight, we were the only golfers - period - that were foolish enough to head out into the rain, trusting that the skies would clear in the short term.
It’s one thing to play golf in the rain for a scheduled tournament and quite another to head out in a downpour just for fun. There was no turning back now; our pride was at stake. Read more…
The Memorial Day holiday means more to me than every other holiday wrapped up together. It is more scared than Easter; more blessed than Christmas; more important than any President’s Day and - forgive me, Mom, but I know you’ll understand – more emotional than Mother’s Day.
I do not mean to subvert the importance of this day by tying it together with a silly blog post about golf. I need to make it clear that I feel it is because of this day that I have the opportunity to play golf. As much as we’d like it to be, golf is not one of our basic freedoms as set forth within the constitution of the US of A (but don’t you think it might be?). Golf is a privilege, and without the continual sacrifices made by the men and women of our armed forces, our lives - yours and mine - would certainly be much different. Read more…
I am pretty good at math. Unfortunately, that isn’t a positive for me on the golf course. Even without a score card in hand, I usually know where my score stands. Doing too much math is the kiss of death on the golf course. One should look only as far as the next shot, and no further.
Whether it is just me against the golf course, or me and my playing partner vs. our opponents, I have a hard time not letting the numbers get in my head. Stroke play events terrify me. I have a fear of many things, but posting a 13 on any given hole (yup, I’ve actually been there) is something that lingers in the back of my mind like a horror movie watched late at night and alone. Read more…
