I’ve been meaning to post about my new shoes and I finally remembered!
I picked these babies up about a month ago and wore them for the first time on December 4, my practice round for the Tournament of Club Champions.
I just love the bold, straight stripes and the little
metal thingies at the end of them for the laces.
They’re called Adidas Comfort Stripe and they make me feel like I’m walking on squishy clouds. I’m not kidding. They’re so comfortable. I don’t know if it’s the “fitfoam” technology or what, but these shoes rock. I might even give them a little credit for my win at that tournament. I want to go put them on and wear them around the house. Oh and they were only a hundred bucks.
Too lazy to take my own photograph, I grabbed this one from e-bay.
Month |
Year |
Index |
Change |
So, I had two months (March and July) in which my index actually increased (by tenths of a stroke), and the rest of the months I showed improvement. I didn’t play as often from January through March because of the rains and course closures and damage. Frequency of play will obviously effect anyone’s progress. Other than that, I can’t account for the changes. I haven’t had any instruction to speak of that I can point to on the chart. I became a non-smoker in April, but would that make any difference? I could point out that I started competing in May, but who’s to say that had any effect? I’ve always been pretty competitive and tend to increase my focus when something is on the line, but that’s not tangible data. I mean, I started blogging in June and having an outlet to share my passion might have had an effect, too, but we can’t really point to that either. Or can we?
Anyway, I think I need to launch some kind of action plan and the ideas keep brewing in my head. So stay tuned!
I already have my two front teeth.
Sure, there are a lot of clubs and accessories I don’t have that I might like. There’s probably even some non-golf stuff I might want or even need. But the only thing I can think of that I really really REALLY want is a custom club head cover. A black Great Dane (perhaps with gray on her muzzle and around her eyes), to be more specific.
Okay, it’s time to explain “the goose.”
My dog, Kess, is my baby girl. Very rarely does anyone actually call her by her name, though. She mostly is known simply as “the Goose.” When talking about her, it’s The Goose, when talking to her, it’s just Goose. It started with silly goose, which I know isn’t uncommon, then evolved to Mongoose (from calling her – c’mon, goose) and finally ended up being just goose.
Many pet “mommies and daddies” will understand how much she means to me. She’s not just a dog to me. She’s my favorite thing. In many ways, she really is treated like a child. The holidays are all about the Goose. She gets the most presents and loves opening them herself. Her birthday parties are big events. She has had a career in security and household management (she’s retired now) and there have been memos circulated about her various promotions and contributions. Our Christmas card always boasts an image of her. She goes in for medical and dental checkups more regularly than I do. I’ve got shirts and hats I’ve customized myself with embroidery of the goose’s profile. I purchased the domain name golfgoose.com to which I intend to eventually transfer this blog. (My cousin was going to host it but I think he got too busy.) Getting the idea? Well, you’ve seen how obsessed I am with golf. Did you think my obsessive behavior started and ended there?
Standing room only at the Goose’s 10th birthday party last February.
Faces have been pixelated to protect the guilty.
So, last Christmas was my first Christmas as a golfer. I had the same request then that I do now. I targeted my request more precisely to my mom, who has mad knitting and crocheting skills. And, dog love her, she actually came through. She was not happy, perhaps even embarassed about the result, and she was hesitant to hand over the finished product. I have to admit, it did look more like a scottish terrier bred with Snuffalupagus from Sesame street. It was so cute, though. It was made from that long fuzzy yarn and was all black with some wispy grays on her face, but her muzzle looked more like an elephant’s trunk. It had little black eyes buried in the long hair (great danes have short hair) and short ears that flopped funny. It was funny looking and didn’t resemble my dog, but I knew what it was. It was adorable, made with love, and it was unique. I wore it on my club with pride.
She actually created it over an exisiting head cover for the form, and that cover wasn’t big enough for my driver, the place of honor. As luck would have it, I happened to have been hitting my five-wood probably the best of all my clubs at the time, and so the cover was thereby dedicated to that club. It saw a lot of great courses and I loved having it on there. That is how my five-wood became known as my goose. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very durable and started falling apart after a few months of heavy use. I returned it by mail to the manufacturer (mom) with a formal letter requesting repairs and indicated that it was still under warranty. I received a response that the item was discontinued and the parts were no longer available, with apologies and hopes that I would place future orders. I can’t believe I didn’t get a photo of it before I sent it back!
Now I have the TaylorMade cover back on my five-wood, but it is still known as my goose on the course. “Oh, this is a perfect situation for the goose” or “It’s about 190 yards, use your goose.” There is a fawn colored great dane clubhead cover available, but no black ones. I’m sure I could find an actual goose if I tried. But I want MY goose! For now, I just have a pin of a real goose on that TaylorMade cover and my three-wood has a Ruger cover, so they’re easy to tell apart. But I yearn for my own personalized cover that will last.
The wrong color cover.
Maybe it’s short notice for Christmas, but the Goose is Jewish and it’s her year in the alternating sequence of celebrating so there’s plenty of time for Dognakuh. Plus, my birthday is coming up on January 4. (I know you’re reading this, mom. I know you’ve said you won’t re-attempt this effort, and don’t feel guilty that you’re spending Christmas with your other daughter and I won’t see you until next year. Hugs and kisses!)
This past Saturday I played in our club’s “Turkey Shoot.” It’s something they do every year at the local scrappy nine-hole course just for fun. Then we all went over to the Treehouse (we are the Treehouse Golf Club, after all) for the awards banquet where we had lunch and they gave out all the awards for the year and raffled off prizes. My raffle prize was a box of Maxfli M3 balls, but where I really made out was with the awards.
I knew I’d be getting the club champion trophy, of course. I think they did a really great job with these trophies, too. They even made the extra effort to have the golfer be in a woman’s image on mine. Maybe we can get some more women to join this club!
I guess I hadn’t realized there would also be a trophy for B-flight champion. I also didn’t know I had won something for overall low net. Or that I had placed third in president’s cup points (you get points for 1st, 2nd and 3rd place finishes, as well as tournaments entered, closest to the pin, long drive, etc). So I got trophies for all those things as well. I wore a path from my seat to the presenter!
All in all, it was a fun afternoon!
Here’s my new trophy display area.
From left to right: (wall) 2nd runner up, President’s Cup; (standing) Low Net;
(wall) B-flight Champion; (standing) SCGA Champion of Club Champions*;
(wall) Club Champion; (standing) Hole-in-One, Apple Mountain.
I never received anything for my other ace at Tierra Rejada or it would be there, too.
*Side note: Some people have suggested that I get my name engraved on that SCGA plate. I don’t know, though. It seems like if I alter it, it’s not the prize I won. What do you think?
…Continued from SCGA TOCC: I love competing
The Results
My score (68) was in red on the board. I was so excited that I was a contender for a prize. There was another 68, two 69s and one 64. There were to be “card-offs” for second and third prize but not for first, so if no other low scores came in, I was assured at least some prize. My excitement grew as my table-mates explained all this to me and started prematurely congratulating me. Then, someone noticed that the 64 was gone! We all searched for it on the board and discovered that in its place was a big “DQ.” I didn’t need anyone to tell me that didn’t mean Dairy Queen. (I found out later that the guy had submitted his net score from which the officials deducted his handicap to get the 64.) Holy crap. There were only two blank spaces left to fill in with scores and I’m tied for first! Both blanks were filled with marks in the 70’s.
My mouth became very dry and I kept gulping swallows of nothing. I went to get another beer. Odd that I wasn’t nervous before the round nor when I thought I was placing in the top five but upon discovering I had won the whole thing (with a co-champion) I was a temporary wreck. Maybe, like my thought about why I wasn’t nervous at the start, it was because I didn’t shoot a record round and was just shocked that it was enough to win and somehow felt undeserving because of that. I regained my nerves before they called me up but I couldn’t stop smiling and occasionally giggling and I tried to resist clapping my hands in giddiness. They took pictures of us with the trophy for the magazine and the room cleared out fast except for the winners’ tables. We hung around for a few minutes and exchanged e-mails for photos and that was it. I drove back to my parents’ house alone, made a few excited phone calls and took a nap. I guess I did my celebrating the night before.
Champion of Champions – Isn’t it pretty?!?
The other prize for first place was this money clip. Not sure what I’m going to do with that. Maybe next year it’ll be a compact or a purse and the men will face this dilemma.
Looking Back
… like I did on Monday (and Sunday and Tuesday) and less of this…
… like I did on Wednesday. (Why do people live like this?) I was in snowy Chicago from Wednesday through Friday, digging my rental car out from under the previous nights’ dump on Friday morning. Saturday morning, I was back home and on the course wearing shorts for my club’s annual “Turkey Shoot.” More on that later.
Now, this club is about three hours drive from where I live, but only a half hour past my parents’ house. So, while we were down there for Thanksgiving, Greg and I went and played a practice round the day after Thanksgiving. The player information sheet I read said all play would be from the white tees, so of course I played from the whites in my practice round. We started kind of late and only made it through 15 holes before it got dark. I did lousy, but not as lousy as it felt. (I find that every time I play, I expect to do as well or better than the last and if I don’t I’m disappointed. I have to rein in those thoughts to keep the self-flagellation to a minimum.)
Fortunately, I had another reservation to play a practice round the day before the tournament. By that time, I had been told the women would be playing from the green (forward) tees and they just didn’t have it on the player info sheet because they weren’t expecting women in the tournament. So this time, I played the green tees in my practice round. And, for only the second time in my golf “career,” I broke 90. I shot a solid 89 on a course with a rating of 74.7, slope 132. Sweet. I thought if I could manage a repeat performance, or anywhere close, I’d have a good chance of finishing strong in the tournament. I took notes of trouble spots, prime targets, green slopes and tricky pin placements (they had marked the greens with a red spot where the pins would be the following day) but the real benefit of the practice round for me is not walking into a totally foreign environment. Familiarity is key to my comfort level. Greg played that round with me and celebrated afterward but he returned to work on Monday and did not join me at the tournament to be my “caddie.”
To be continued… (it’s so long already!)
Isn’t it precious?
Bogey Man over at Bogey Lounge named this little old blog the Site of the Day recently and created this adorable image to go with it. I love it!
Thanks again, Bogey!
If web logs are called “blogs” for short, web golf logs should be called “flogs.” It’s all making sense now. When I first started this site, I called it a glog for golf log. Flogging is much more appropriate. If you don’t already get my drift, here’s how Webster’s defines flogging:
flog P Pronunciation Key (flg, flôg)
tr.v. flogged, flog·ging, flogs
It seems like more and more “blogs” are popping up that fall under definition #2’s category, however loosely. However, there are still the old fashioned types who prefer the self-inflicted punishment experienced either on the course or by writing a public diary for others to share in the glory or misery. And let’s not forget the comment posters who flog the flogger. Oh, and the comments to the comment posters, esentially flogging the flogger of the original flog’s flogger. I’m exhausting myself. Please forgive me. I just tied my boyfriend for the first time in an 18 hole round at Moorpark CC and celebrated with a couple margaritas at Chuy’s.
Don’t drink and flog.
What is the old saying? If you love something, set it free, and if it comes back… yadda yadda yadda…
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