The Golfchick

That chick blabbing about anything golf related.

Page 39 of 48

Number of States Golfed: 13

That’s right; I now have my own “thirteen original colonies.” Okay, golf states. Kansas? Check.

Warning: Extremely long post. You can always read some now and come back later for the rest.

Last week, my work took me to Kansas City and, having checked the weather report before leaving, I took my golf clubs. While I was working, the temperatures during the day were in the high 70’s. I think it even reached 80. The day I was leaving was just a “travel day” for me, so I booked an afternoon flight and planned on golfing in the morning before I left. The course I chose is called “Dub’s Dread Golf Club” and is, reportedly, a local favorite. Part of my reasoning was also its relatively close proximity to the airport. I booked the 3:54 p.m. flight but hoped to play early enough to catch the 12:52 on stand-by.

How “dread”ful is this?

I called them the afternoon before to make sure they didn’t have any tournaments planned and to make sure I’d be able to get out. After finding out they didn’t, the conversation went something like this:

“Do you make tee-times for singles or should I just come down and get on the list?”

 

“What time are you planning on getting here?”

 

“7:00.”

 

“Well, there won’t be much for you to do since we don’t open until 8:15.”

 

(Hang on, the sun comes up at 7… what’s all this about business hours? Toto… I don’t think we’re in California anymore.)

 

“Oh… ha ha… so how does it look?”

 

“Oh, fine, just come down and I’ll get you out.”

 

(Wondering if that gives me time to make my flight) “What can I expect the pace of play to be?”

 

“However you set it. You’ll be the first one out — I don’t have a reservation until 8:45.”

Toto, I’m definitely not in California anymore.


Best Laid Plans

Now, even in my priority frequent flier check-in and security lines, I have to check a bag because of my golf clubs so I know I have to be there at least 45 minutes before my flight because of TSA regulations. My Google map route tells me it’ll take 31 minutes to get to the airport and I figured about 20 minutes to gas up my rental car, return it and get to the terminal. So to make a 12:52 flight I have to leave the golf course by 12:01 at the latest. This means I have to finish golfing by about 11:45 in order to re-pack my clubs in the travel bag, get organized and get out of there. And this is all as tight as I can possibly make it, which is why I wanted to get out at 7:00. No problem, right? Playing as a single with no one in front of me, even as bad as I’ve been playing lately, I’m figuring 3 hours TOPS. This scenario gives me 3 and a half. Perfect.

Getting there

I left my hotel a few minutes later than I planned, with an estimated arrival of 8:00. Google maps had the directions right, but they didn’t tell me the street wasn’t well marked and in fact didn’t even look like a street. I called after getting lost and the pro told me to look for a particular church on a corner and turn left after that (but be careful not to miss it, because it’s not well marked — no kidding). Well, I didn’t arrive until 8:30 and now I’m really pushing my time limit. I decided to ride in order to save time, and then he told me it was cart path only. It probably would have been quicker to just walk the whole course. Then I knew I would have to try not to play cart path golf when I’m going to be rushing anyway. It didn’t bode well for my early flight or my round.

Weather conditions

I packed my golf attire according to what weather.com told me it would be like on golf day. While it wasn’t supposed to be high 70’s like the previous days, it was supposed to be mid-to-low-60s. I play in weather like that here all the time. No big deal. I wore a long sleeve shirt under a regular golf shirt and long pants. Luckily, I had a light windbreaker in my bag as well, because it was high 40’s with a freezing wind! It was especially bad on the first and tenth tees where there’s no shield at all. No time to hit balls (I didn’t notice if they even had a range, but I’m assuming they did), I ran circles around my cart just to try to get a little warmer. I was shivering and shaking (what a California wuss).

First Impressions

So that’s what they call “dormant” grass. I think Greg has mentioned it once or twice because some of the courses out here use it in certain areas, but other than that, I knew nothing about it. From what I can tell, it’s really just grass that is temporarily dead. Dead, nonetheless. Totally different feel than regular grass. If it’s dead, say it’s dead!

Instead of greens, they should call them “browns.”

All things considered, I didn’t start off too badly, and took a bogey on the first hole, a par 5. It got worse on the next hole, where I took a 7 and my first 3-putt of the day. The next hole was even worse than that. I’m a bad judge of distance and my drive got lost in the mud on the other side of the lateral water (mud creek) hazard that bisects the fairway. I dropped and hit my third from a bad lie and my ball hit the muddy side of the hill and didn’t roll much after that. I hit again and it ended up down near the teebox at the next hole. I chipped up from there thinking it would be in a pretty good position on the green but the bunker I didn’t know was there had other plans. My next shot put it on the green, where I proceeded to 3-putt for a nine. A NINE… on a 320 yard hole!!! I’m laughing at myself and taking in all the unusual-for-me scenery and course conditions, but thinking I’ve got to settle down… I can still salvage this round. Somehow, I managed to get my ONLY par of the day on the very next hole with my ONLY green in regulation of the day on a silly 143 yard par-3. It was all carry over water, but still… only 143. The rest of the round was all bogeys and doubles and even one more triple. Sure I was cold and hurrying and marveling at the dried out duck poop and yellow grass while trying to figure out where the holes went, cursing the cart path only rule all the way, but this is just how I’ve been playing lately, excuses or not.

This is another par-3, the 150-yard 11th hole. It’s more uphill than it looks in this picture. After putting one in the water, I landed the next about 15 feet above the hole and two-putted on a really steep green. No GIR and no par for my stats, but it felt good anyway. Tough hole.

Statistics

I hit 9 out of 14 fairways but only one GIR. I came within feet (and even inches) of 10 of them, but this isn’t horseshoes or hand-grenades. I had:
Four one-putts. None of those were great accomplishments; they were made possible by close chips from just off the green. When I wasn’t that close to the pin, I had:
Eight 2-putts
Five 3-putts and
One 4-putt!

If I just looked at my total number (39) putts, it might not look so bad. But clearly, my current problems are the approach shots and putting.

I ended up with a 104 and had to adjust that 9 to a 7 for equitable stroke control to post an adjusted 102. I don’t know who the original “Dub” was from Dub’s Dread, but I dubbed myself “Dub” after this round. However, this was just one of a series of 100+ rounds I’ve put up lately in my current slump. When I was playing my best, I had been practicing a lot at my neighborhood 9-hole par three course and was really confident with most of my irons. Somehow, I don’t get the same results from hitting at the range, and I hate mats! Putting has always been a struggle for me, and I’ve already started a practice regimen for that. (I even got in my practice session in Kansas City, the evening before my round at a place called All Golf.) At least now I know what I need to do. It’s starting to stay lighter later so it’ll be a little easier to get that practice in, at least when I’m in town.

Hindsight

No, I didn’t make that earlier flight. By the time I finished, re-packed my clubs and drove away, it was noon. I had to wait at the airport for two and a half hours until I could board the plane for my scheduled flight. Why did I even try? I should have just relaxed and walked the round. It would have been warmer, too.

There were 3 or 4 of these signs on the road from the golf course out to the “highway.” I guess the people who don’t golf around there need the warning. The golfers surely know this already. I also counted 5 raccoons and 6 skunks along the road. Poor buggers can’t read, I guess.

Next post.

Inspiring another generation of golfers?

I already wrote about one of my coolest golf experiences, when a little girl watched me at the range. Since she was there with golfers, I can only think she would have tried her hand at the game anyway, but maybe I helped a little with the inspiration.

However, that is not the generation I’m writing about today. In the latest turn of events, I found out that my mom and aunt are now all fired up and want to get into golf! How cool is that? They’re best friends and live about a block away from each other. My mom played some in the past, but that was “a lifetime ago.” Things were different then, too. They had caddies and didn’t have to worry about a thing. Just hit the ball (the caddie will find it) and take a walk, chatting all the way. Oh, the life.

They are taking lessons together and eventually want to start playing, starting with 9-holes and working their way up to 18, I guess. I really don’t think it would have crossed her mind to do it except for all the fun I’ve been having since I started golfing. She likes to walk for exercise anyway, and we all know this will make some of those walks more interesting.

She wants to play with me some day, and I can’t wait! I think it’ll be fantastic. I also hope my dad will get back out there more (he plays occasionally) and they can have a nice way to spend a few hours together. Greg and I really enjoy it.

Go, Mom! I look forward to playing with you.

For more on how cool my mom is, check out this post. My aunt is pretty terrific, too. (Hi Meme!)

Next post.

A weak and neurotic moment

I could probably also title this “Confessions of a wack-job” but I guess personal blogs are often confessionals (and bloggers are often wack-jobs?).

Here it is: Irony notwithstanding, I am terrified of getting better and losing. And what if I never can get as good as I want to or expect to get? I think my biggest fear has always been failure. It has stifled me many times in the past. I’ll start something and devour it with a passion until I can see the point where, upon completion, the project could fail, which will make me a failure because I put everything into it. Oh, and I do have something of an addictive personality what with the way I throw myself into things. I’ve also been known to half-ass my way through something so that when it’s not the best I can claim I didn’t really give it my all. That’s me in a nutshell: one great big ball of potential that never really lived up to it. (Perhaps my attack on what I called Bode Miller’s subconscious lack of effort was just projecting.)

As I get better, I’ll be facing tougher competition. I’ll be getting fewer strokes and will be expected to deliver like any other seasoned player. I’m afraid that as expectations rise, my performance will fall. Maybe this fear is what causes me to play better under pressure than in any ordinary round. But it’s also what makes me quit before I find out the worst. Novels, screenplays, business ideas, career moves, art projects… all left unfinished.

I also tend to get bored with projects either after time or once the challenge is gone, so maybe golf is just the ticket for me since it’ll always be challenging no matter how good I do or don’t get. Unless that particular challenge gets boring, too. Argh. So far I’m still determined to finally follow through on something. But boy, does that sound familiar.

I don’t go around dwelling on this feeling or fear 24/7, it just reared its ugly head on Friday and I need to shake it off. I played on Saturday and Sunday and both rounds STUNK.

Um… do I really want to post this?

Next post.

A Fun-Raising Tournament

Monday was Washington’s Birthday, a federal holiday here in the U.S., and I’m fortunate that my company has it as one of our designated holidays so I had the day off. I spent it at a local golf course, of course. It was actually a fundraising tournament for a children’s baseball league and was held at the beautiful Lost Canyons (a.k.a. Lost Golf Balls Canyons) Shadow Course. It’s one of the ritzier and spendier public courses around the Los Angeles area and the guy who was holding the tournament has all kinds of connections. One of those connections is a product development guy at Taylor Made, and being such a Taylor Made kind of girl, I naturally went a little gaga over the raffle prizes. Drivers and putters and wedges, oh my! Of course, I didn’t win any. I just bought the standard $50 package while all the rich people there bought crazy amounts of extra tickets and there were several multiple-item winners. Good for the cause, right?

It was a really fun event. The entry fee included the golf, breakfast, lunch, all kinds of snacks and goodie bags galore. Some of the parents of the kids in the baseball league spent the day driving around in golf carts stocked full of free beer and other beverages in case anyone got thirsty. The raffle tickets and entry into the side games out on the course were a separate cost and the real method for the fundraising. And there were plenty of women playing in the tournament which was a refreshing change for me. There were even a couple kids playing, one of whom was the 10-year old boy of my friend Brian, who turned me onto the tournament in the first place and they were both in my foursome along with our buddy, Bert.

How did we do?

It was a four person scramble, no handicaps applied, and we actually did pretty well in spite of that. As a group we shot 5 under. A Solid 67 with 5 birdies and the rest pars. Not a single bogey, and it’s not an easy course. The foursome behind us (also friends of ours, and all grown men, by the way) shot 4 over. We definitely held our own, but in a scramble, 5 under is not usually good enough to win anything, and it especially wasn’t in this tournament. There were three foursomes that included local pros and other various scratch golfers. The winners shot 59, and second and third carded off with 60s. So, we didn’t win as a group, and I didn’t win any raffle prizes, but I did win a couple awards.

The fun sideshows

There were all kinds of games out on the course:
“Hit this green, win a sleeve of balls.” — I did.
“Hit this green, win a ticket for a separate raffle for the 50-50 honey pot.” — I got my ticket but didn’t win the pot.
“Guess your driving distance and win a Monza putter.” – I was 7 yards off and the winner was only off by one yard.
There were also three closest to the pin and two long drive holes. We were all excited when the kid in our group had closest to the pin on one hole (his ball got there in a roundabout way, but nonetheless…) but it didn’t hold up and he was mighty disappointed when it was announced. I have never ever ever ever won a closest to the pin. And that didn’t change here. I won the only lady’s long drive I’ve encountered which was at my first tournament ever, also a scramble. But there were only three ladies there and I don’t think the other two even hit the fairway.

Oh what a feeling

The long drive holes were simply that. No separate awards for ladies and men, but they did choose holes where the ladies’ tees gave quite an advantage. And I’m used to playing from the middle tees, so that was kind of nice. I wasn’t even aware of what holes were the long driving holes and our foursome somehow missed one altogether. But as I was setting up to my ball on the 6th hole (we started on 11 in the shotgun so this was our 14th hole) and I was just about to take my club back, Bert says “you might want to put a good swing on this one, it’s a long drive hole.” He lamented a few times throughout the day about how I had outdriven him from the whites the previous day at Rustic Canyon and wanted to see me hit a good one here. Great. Now I’m thinking I actually have a chance here since the tees are so far in front of where the men are playing from and there might be a neat prize attached to this thing. And I’m also thinking “don’t over swing and miss the fairway completely like the men tend to do in this situation.” I had been driving okay for most of the day, but had a couple really bad ones and nothing great by any means. But I really put the focus on and whammo! I smacked that sucker like I know I can but rarely do. It felt amazing. We watched it sail through the air down the fairway and it proceeded to get some good roll and I think it was one of my best drives ever. We drove up to the marker where the previous long drive had been, pulled it from the ground and must have driven another 90 yards to where my ball was to mark it and write my name on that card. The tees were measured to 330 yards and from where my ball was, we had about a 50-60 yard pitch (at an angle) to go to the center of the green. About 270 yards! I don’t measure my drives much, but that has to be a record for me or at least pretty close. Granted, the men were playing from 110 yards further back, but I figure if they’re not going to have separate awards for the women, a woman should win if she can hit it that far. And I did. :) Incidentally, the man who won the other long drive hole hit his 380 yards (which would have tied my drive on this hole) and they call him “Mr. 400.” He’s a local celebrity, retired pro football player and they said he usually wins every long drive contest he enters. I’m thankful that he must have missed the fairway on #6.

I actually don’t have a place for this one yet. I temporarily put it in place of one of my hole-in-one certificates for the photo op. I’m out of wall space in that area. I might have to move the trophy wall to a new location.

The bonus trophy

I also won an award I didn’t know they were giving, and that was for best ladies all around golfer or something like that. I don’t know how they judged that since we didn’t have individual scores. Maybe from all the holes where they had people positioned for those greenie games, plus the long drive, plus our group score. Or maybe the other ladies were just terrible. Who knows. I just know I have some new hardware for my trophy wall and I like winning stuff.

A twin set. I guess they all use the same trophy supplier around here.
And I guess I need to get myself a silver outfit with gold trim.

We all had a great time out there and they raised a lot of money for the league. Of course, the kids in the league aren’t exactly Oliver Twist and his gamine harem. In fact, some of their parents could probably buy that golf course. However, I’m sure many kids in the league are not so privileged so they do need to raise money. So it wasn’t the neediest of causes, but it was worthy, so what’s a little more money when I was going to golf on Monday anyway. Plus, it was a great experience and a fine way to spend the holiday!

Next post.

Another new golf blog

Here’s another new blog* about trying to improve at golf: From Thirty to Scratch. I love the name and the goal. While many people are struggling with colder conditions right now, here is a golfer from Western Australia, currently concerned with a too-hot forecast. Poor baby, right?

Anyway, he (I assume it’s a he but I guess I don’t really know) only has a few posts, so we’ll have to wait and see if he keeps it up. I hope so, because I like reading about other people’s progress. It has sort of the same feel to it as my own blog and New2golf, in that we’re all trying to get better and we’re writing about the process and progress.

Stick with it, thirty!


*Wow, did I actually scoop HOGB and EatGolf on this one?

Next post.

Where is the Jam-Boy?

Where, oh where has our Jam-boy gone? Who’s on the bag?

One of my favorite golf bloggers, The Reluctant Jam-Boy, hasn’t made an entry since January 7! Incidentally, that was two days before I added his link to this site and talked about how much I liked his blog. Was it something I said?

I miss you, Jam-boy. Please come back. You must have a backlog of funny stories to tell.

Next post.

Is it time to wrap Bode Miller in a Shroud at Turin?

Alert: this post is not golf related.

Is Bode Miller to these Olympics what Anna Kournikova is to women’s tennis? Since he has actually won in the past, perhaps that’s a bit harsh, but he is making a swift transition from pin-up boy of skiing to poster boy for underachievement.

Oh Bode, even the balls on your sweater look attractive on you.

He can underachieve all he wants in the rest of his career, but when he takes a spot on the U.S. Olympic team, he should treat it like the honor it is. How many other skiers would have killed for that spot? The “process” and approach to competitive skiing he claims to have is likely nothing more than a rationalization for not putting more effort into it (whether he knows that consciously or not). That’s all fine and good when he’s just a hot skier out on his own trying to win titles and make a living/mint. And his events may be individual events, but he’s on a team and if he’s not going to bother to try to win then he should let someone else have the chance. It’s not that he hasn’t won that bothers me, it’s his apparent attitude about the competition in general. We don’t need to bring the best of the country if they’re not going to give their best for the country.

Then again, maybe he’s not to blame at all. At least he admitted his “motives were impure.” Maybe it’s the even greedier corporate buggers that pump all the hype into the hottest ticket. And maybe it’s all of us suckers rooting for him, slurping up their hyper-hyped product.

He’s got one more chance in his last event on Saturday and I just don’t think I give a hoot. If I have to spend that time watching Bode Miller, it would probably be better spent one-handing it with my mouse perusing the many Bode fan-sites on the internet.

Next post.

So this is “A” Flight

Since my handicap index has continued to decline, I have actually progressed from “B” flight to “A” flight in my club. While the “B” flight members expressed some relief, the “A” flighters are gunning for me. After last month’s rainout, we had our first tournament of the season on Saturday. Last year, they had the A flight playing from the blue tees and B flight from the whites. This year, they’re having everyone play from the same tees and they’re going to switch ’em up so that each month we might play the blues, whites, even reds, depending on the course. Unfortunately, this month they chose the blue tees and this particular course didn’t have a rating from the blues for women so I had to be singled out again and play the whites. It’s only 275 yards total difference, but still. Anyway, I haven’t been playing as much as I’d like and I’ve been absolutely exhausted from my work schedule lately. Excuses, excuses… everyone’s probably a little rusty. We’re all looking forward to daylight savings time when we can squeeze in twilight rounds after work. Personally, I’m also looking forward to warmer weather in other areas so I can play out of town on travel days.

So how did I do?

I started off horribly, with a double on the first hole and a snowman on the second and really got down on myself. I let it get to me, so it didn’t get much better on the rest of the front nine, and I put up a string of sixes and only one par for a disappointing 52. Somehow, I managed to pull it together somewhat on the back nine with three pars, five bogeys and one triple on a par 3 (ugh) for a pretty solid 44.
My 15.7 index translated to a course handicap of 18, plus 4 strokes for the difference in course ratings (69.9 vs. 74.6). That netted me a 74, which I thought was terrible considering all those strokes, but it was enough to get into a card off for 3rd place, which I won because I par’d the #2 handicap hole.

The value of warming up?

Usually I like to hit at least 30 balls as a warm up before a tournament. I needed every last ounce of sleep that morning and couldn’t get my ass out of bed earlier than I did to leave the house at 7:15 so I only had the time to take a few putts on the practice green before we tee’d off. My first 30 strokes on the course were a struggle, but I wonder how much difference it would have made if I took them on the range instead. Next time, right?

So, in the first tournament of the season and my first tournament in A flight, I took home 20 whopping smackers for 3rd place. This was also a qualifying tournament for match play, but they told me the club champ gets in automatically. There are only 32 slots for match play (that’s the 5 tournament route to the club championship I won last year). At least I don’t need to worry about that. I’m not sure, but I don’t think I’ve ever not won something in all my tournament experiences. However, I have yet to win a closest to the pin (but I intend to) or long drive (and I don’t plan on it until we get enough women to have a women’s flight). Plus, now I need a second and a first place in “A” flight and of course I’d like to be A flight champ. So it was a decent start, but there’s much more on which to set my sights.

Onward and upward – or downward

I’m looking forward to playing more and having more time to practice so I can try to keep lowering my scores. My index only went down by 0.6 this month and I’ve got some low differentials that are pretty old and going to drop off so I need to start putting up some lower numbers. I got my half hour of putting in this week just under the wire (yesterday afternoon) but I need so much more work. Time to get busy!

Next post.

Conversation with a tweaking nihilist


This week, my work took me to Middleofnowhere, Ohio. In case that doesn’t ring a bell, it’s about an hour east of Neverheardofit, Indiana.

I must be getting old because there was a time this experience would have thrilled me in a romantic Kerouac-like hop-off-a-train kind of On the Road sort of way. Maybe I’m just too tired. Or maybe that mystique is gone for me because the lifestyle doesn’t include golf, my new obsession.

My recent travel schedule has had me scrambling with little time at home to do anything but golf. Because of that, I neglected to replenish some consumable items that had been depleted from my toiletry bag. Normally, that wouldn’t be such a big deal. Wherever I travel, if the hotel can’t provide a complimentary replacement, they usually carry something acceptable in their gift shop. Worst case scenario, I can make an end-run to the local drug store in my rental car. If they had a store here in Middleofnowhere, it certainly wouldn’t be open at this hour.

After a day of travel and incurring a three hour time change, I arrived at my destination airport after midnight local time with close to 100 miles still to drive. Flying in, I somehow must have missed the big sign covering the state that said “closed.” It was dark and cold and the route I drove was densely packed with nothing. The closer I got to my destination, the less I saw, which really had me wondering whether I was being set up because it sure didn’t seem like there was enough population to support enough businesses to be buying what we’re selling. Finally, a town appeared out of nowhere.

Here’s a photo I took about 5 miles before I reached my destination. If you click on the picture and look really, really close, you can see nothing.

When I arrived, the hotel had “lost” my reservation and was booked to capacity which again had me wondering if the clerk was in on punking me. He gave me someone else’s reservation and we both crossed our fingers that it was late enough the person wouldn’t arrive. I got to my room and it looked like I just missed the party. Beer bottles full and empty were scattered around the room as well as some snacks and soft drinks. The rest of the room was tidy, but who knows when the three bears would be arriving back to claim their chairs. I called down to the desk, and they sent security up to escort me to my new room. They also sent apologies and a coupon for a complimentary breakfast. Screw breakfast. By the time I got settled in, unwound and asleep, it was 3:00 A.M., and I had to be up in about four hours, which would be 4:00 A.M my time. I’ll be hitting the coffee and going in to deliver a product launch in front of a room full of people running on fumes. I don’t have time for your stinking breakfast. But when I unpacked and was getting ready for bed, I realized there was something I needed. Dental floss.

I called back down to my newest friend, the clerk at the front desk. After all, they did have a placard in the bathroom that said if I forgot any standard toiletry item they would be happy to provide a replacement.

“Guest services.”

“Hi, it’s me again, from room… what room am I in now?”

“Oh yes, hello Miss Williams. What can I do for you?”

“I seem to be out of floss. Would you happen to have any at the desk or would I have to call housekeeping in the morning?”

“Noss?”

“Pardon?”

“What was it you needed?”

“Floss. Dental floss.”

“Oh, I thought you said ‘noss’ and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what that could be.”

“Do you have some?”

“I don’t believe in floss.”

(How does someone not believe in floss? It’s almost 2:00 A.M. and I just want to go to bed. It’s dawning on me that this guy works the graveyard shift and I am in what is commonly considered the meth capital of the U.S.)

“O…okay. Do you have any?”

“Well, I don’t, but the hotel might.”

Silence…

“Could you check?”

“Oh, well I thought you were reconsidering and you might not actually want it if you thought for a moment about what it really is and the society that has made you think you needed it in the first place.”

“Right then. So I’ll just skip it for now and check with housekeeping in the morning.”

“Yeah, cause you know flossing doesn’t make you a good person and in fact all the things that so called good people value are pretty weak. I mean, how do we even know anything that we supposedly know when things are only there because we created them but our own selves might just be created in thought in the first place.”

“Do you sell Tylenol in the gift shop?”

Heavy, dramatic sigh… “Yesss.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right down.”

And thus began my floccinaucinihilipilification of small town Ohio living.

:)

Next post.

Vote early & vote often

A sincere thank you to the two people who voted for me in the first round of Golf Blogger Survivor. Whoever you are, I appreciate your support and thanks to you I’m still on the “island” and in the game.

The polls are open for voting in the second round. There were several good entries this week. My personal favorite was Mark Nessmith’s submission, but he has been kicked off so that would be a wasted vote.

In case you missed it, last week’s secret word was “speculum” and I used it in a caption of a Tiger Woods photograph in my post about putting practice. I don’t know about you, but now whenever I see him squat down and cup his hands over the bill of his cap like that, I’ll be thinking “speculum squat.” Sensitive to the squirm-factor for my female readers, I left it at the caption instead of going into a detailed description. I’m counting on people’s imaginations to take it from there. Personally, my imagination takes me to a place that reminds me of that visual Bill Cosby gave us of Johnny Bench catching a baby being delivered with a catcher’s mitt.

To check out all the entries, take a look at the Blogger Leaderboard on the TravelGolf site, and to vote, simply post a comment to that blog with your preference. Enjoy!

Next post.

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2024 The Golfchick

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑