The Golfchick

That chick blabbing about anything golf related.

Category: Guest Bloggers (page 1 of 2)

Can’t Go to The Masters? Make Your Own Pimento Cheese Sandwiches.

April 1, 2016 / / 6 Comments

Written by thegolfchick.com contributor, Mary, a.k.a. Breadchick, a portion of this post was first published in View on Mesquite Magazine. I’m posting it here in its entirety because, well, The Masters. I love The Masters – and Mary! I intend to make the pimento cheese recipe for my own CBS viewing pleasure. Thanks, Mary!

What Egg Salad and Pimento Cheese Taught Me about Golf and Life

When you grow up in a golf family in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan you learn three things very fast about the golf season: you have four maybe five months, May until September, to make pars and birdies; yellow balls show up the best in the snow you will play in the first part of May and the last part of September; and in April, when you heard Pat Summerall welcome you to the Masters, you could go drag your golf clubs out from behind the winter coats and skis where you put them at the beginning of October.

I remember exactly where I was in 1978 when Gary Player came back from seven down to defeat the golfing hero of my youth, Tom Watson, to win the Masters.  I was sprawled out on the cowboy themed couch in the den of my parent’s house, watching the black and white TV, munching on an egg salad sandwich. I was hoping against hopes that Watson, who scorched the back nine with torrid run of birdies and eagles, would somehow pull a rabbit out of his hat on the 18th after he put the ball in the only place he couldn’t put it.  He didn’t and the rest of that egg salad sandwich went untouched.

Grandmother’s Egg Salad, Memories, and Life Getting in the Way of Golf

Egg salad sandwiches were a staple in our house but particularly on the golf course. My maternal grandmother made the best egg salad. On Monday afternoon she egg slicerwould make a batch to take to the course for Tuesday’s Ladies Day at the club where she and my grandfather were members.  If I was visiting, I’d help by peeling the eggs and using the egg slicer to cut the eggs one way then the other to create perfectly diced pieces.  She would take the diced eggs and put them in a big white Tupperware container and then using a spatula combine them with a big dollop of mayonnaise, a squeeze of yellow mustard, a dash of salt and pepper.   She would slice a loaf of bread paper thin, place each slice between a piece of waxed paper and re-wrap the loaf so it would be easy to make sandwiches in the ladies lounge after the round.  

On the weekend, she would make egg salad and pickled bologna sandwiches for my dad and grandfather to share on the golf course during their round.  If one of my brothers or I was going with them, she would make a special sandwich for us by using one of her cookie cutters to make shapes and tuck them into a wax paper envelope. It was torture to wait until we could eat those sandwiches.

Some of my fondest memories of playing golf with my dad and grandfather as a child and pre-teen was making the turn at the clubhouse and sitting on the small brick wall eating my sandwich and listening to my grandfather explain why golf was like life. You get out of golf and life what you put into it. Golf is a game of manners and rules. In life, if you have bad manners or break rules you will not have an easy time of it.  You treat the staff in the caddie shack and the bag room the same as you treat your best friend. They are working hard for their money and deserve your respect.

Somewhere along the way between fifteen and thirty, I stopped playing golf. I became busy with school, my music and with what would eventually become my career, engineering and professional audio. I would occasionally play when I went home to northern Michigan or at a corporate outing but for the most part golf disappeared from my life.  It wasn’t until I married into an even more serious golfing family than my own that my love for the game of golf was rekindled.

Golf is Back! Enter In-Laws, and Pimento Cheese 

pimento cheese dip, crackers, score cardsMy father in law was a teaching pro at a country club in eastern Tennessee and my mother in law was a very accomplished golfer in her own right, holding the lady club champion well into her 60s.  My husband grew up in the bag room and caddie shack and his brother was my father in law’s assistant pro.  The very first time I met my future in laws was at the golf course less than 30 minutes after getting off the airplane from Boston, where my husband and I resided.   After what was a less than spectacular round on my part, my future father in law took me to the range and helped me start back towards the game I had loved as girl while my future husband and mother in law retired to the member grille. When we came in from hitting a bucket of balls, we sat and had cocktails and pimento cheese dip on crackers and got to know each other. As a “Yankee”, this was my first exposure to pimento cheese and it was love at first taste.

That visit was the first of many my husband and I made to his childhood home. Those trips always included a round of golf with my in-laws and a trip to the member grille to relive the best shots of the round over pimento cheese dip and gin and tonics. After my father in law and husband both passed away within a year of each other, my mother in law and I would still go out to club to share memories and funny stories over that creamy mixture spread on Ritz crackers, even if we didn’t play golf.  She passed away three years ago and every time I eat pimento cheese, I can’t help but think of those afternoons in the member grille at their club and laughing over the stupid shots in our rounds and sharing our love for the game of golf.

Pimento cheese is a staple in the South.  And, of course, the Masters wouldn’t be the Masters without pimento cheese and egg salad sandwiches made fresh daily and wrapped in wax paper.  There are several different recipes for both but I’m going to share twists on my grandmother’s egg salad and my mother in law’s pimento cheese recipes.  

The Recipes

Both of these recipes call for full fat mayonnaise but if you want to lighten it up a bit, using low fat mayonnaise won’t sacrifice taste. However, don’t go for the fat free variety. You will find the taste and consistency to be lacking.  For the pimento cheese spread, don’t use anything but regular cheese, no 2% milk or fat free, it just won’t taste right.

Pimento Cheese Dip/Spread
pimento cheese dippimento cheese mixture

1pimentos ½ cup of mayonnaise

1 jar (4 oz.) of pimentos (drained) look for them where the pickles are or in the Italian food section

½ tsp Worcestershire sauce

1 ¼ cup fine shredded mild cheddar cheese

1 ¼ cup fine shredded sharp cheddar cheese

Dash of cayenne pepper

Dash of cumin

Combine all the ingredients in a large covered bowl. Refrigerate for at least six hours but overnight is best.  This lets the taste of the pimentos spread through the mixture.   Serve on crackers or thick slices of white bread.  

pimento and egg salad sandwich and golf tees

 

Egg Saladegg salad on cracker

6 large eggs, hard boiled and chopped

1 ½ cup of mayonnaise

1 Tbsp. of yellow mustard

1 ½ Tbsp. of sweet pickle relish

Dash of pepper

Dash of tarragon

Dash of thyme

Combine all the ingredients in a large covered bowl. Refrigerate for at least two hours. Serve on thin sliced bread or crackers.

pimento cheese sandwich and golf items

 

Tee It While We’re Young

July 6, 2013 / / 24 Comments

One of the biggest issues currently in the game, anyone from the casual golfer to the touring pro will agree, is slow play. In the last couple years, the golfs various governing bodies have devised their own attempts at resolving the slow play issue. The PGA of America came up with “Tee It Forward”, the USGA with “While We’re Young”, and the PGATOUR with “Its Not Our Fault”. I recently had the ‘opportunity’ to play golf with a coworker (lets call him Jim) who, in a good month plays once, and if he kept accurate score would shoot 120 under the best of circumstances. This experience made me acutely aware of one thing…. The average golfer has no clue what they are doing.

Let me explain why I, as of this round, am completely against all “initiatives” taken by golf’s governing bodies.

1 – I can count on one hand how often Jim, in all of his 116* shots that day, actually saw where his ball finished. He could have teed off from the 150 markers, and the only way that would have sped up the round was the fact we have 4 fewer shots per hole to look for. I cannot imagine how long that round would have taken had it been him and 3 similarly skilled golfers in the same group. I was raised on a golf course, and the ability to watch and find golf balls was instilled in me at a very young age. Had I not been there, he’d have either lost close to 30 balls that day, or he’d STILL be playing that round, 4 days later.

2 – The inability for Jim to understand efficiency around the course, especially the greens, astounded me. Without getting too wordy, let me give the most ridiculous example of an event when I considered a sand wedge to my forehead may be a better option than golf with Jim. 5th hole, Jim had chipped onto the green, about 60 feet from the hole (after subsequent 5 minute ball searches in the right rough). Jim brought his wedge and putter, like any golfer should do. After putting his 60 footer about 20 feet short, Jim walked up to his ball (it was still his turn), marked it, and promptly walked back to his wedge, which was sitting 40 feet away on the green between himself and the cart, retrieved it, and took it back with him to his mark that was comfortably resting 20 feet from the hole. WTF?!?! THE WEDGE WOULD HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU ON YOUR RETURN TO THE CART!!!

3 – At least once per hole after a poor shot, Jim would magically pull a ball from his pocket, drop it from where the previous ball was played, and make another horrific attempt at a golf shots (after yet another excessively long and unnecessary pre-shot routine).

4 – For someone who was very liberal with not counting tops, whiffs, chunks, etc… the time spent over 2 foot putts was absolutely ridiculous.

5 – This next point has virtually nothing to do with slow play, but it confuses me to no end, and no matter how many ways I asked the question, I could never get an answer. Jim was driving the cart, and when he pulled up to the green, every time, he’d pull the cart off the path completely before he stopped. Why?!? Parking a cart on concrete doesn’t kill grass. Parking a cart on grass does. Forget the agronomy of the parking issue, I don’t expect most people to understand that…when I park my car I don’t look for the nearest grassy area, I leave it on the concrete, which was obviously designed for the parking of my car. The same goes with the cart!!

Conclusion:

At no point did Jim consider himself to be a slow golfer, and when asked “hypothetically” about ways he could speed his round up, he could make no recommendations. Nor had Jim ever heard of the “Tee It Forward” or “While We’re Young” campaigns. This round of golf, and my discussions with him, made me realize one very important thing….

The average golfer has no interaction with golf other than their 5 hour, once per month rounds. The USGA and PGA can have all the initiatives they want, but promoting them solely on golf broadcasts or in golf publications only reaches the people who already know they are slow and who want to improve. The average golfer doesn’t watch golf telecasts, doesn’t watch The Golf Channel, doesn’t subscribe to golf periodicals, they smuggle a 6pack of beer onto their local muni once a month and smack a ball around in a game that loosely resembles golf.

Do I have an answer to this dilemma? Maybe. Does it involve anything less than physical torture and removal from golf courses? Potentially. I haven’t thought through it enough to post my solutions…however, I would love to hear your ideas and solutions as it relates to the slow play problem. Is there a solution? What do you think?

Nike Covert Distance Challenge(d) at Golf Galaxy

April 4, 2013 / / 8 Comments

Earlier this month, I was invited to take part in a Nike Covert Distance Challenge at Golf Galaxy, which was being held every weekend (Friday – Sunday) in March. I’m a golf junkie, as anyone who knows me understands, so obviously I was pretty excited to take part in this exercise. I’m always in the market for new golf equipment, and after Nike’s recent media barrage, I was very interested to see how the new Covert driver stacked up against my current gamer.

Below are some excerpts from the invitation I received:

“Golf Galaxy has teamed up with Nike to bring golfers across the country the Nike Covert Distance Challenge. Every weekend (Friday through Sunday) in March, Nike gurus will be in-store to deliver club fittings. Golfers of all levels are invited to bring in their existing driver to test against the new Nike VR_S Covert Tour. Just by participating in a fitting, the golfer will be given a free sleeve of Nike 20XI golf balls.

If you haven’t already tried the VR_S Covert, now is the best chance to try a driver that offers FlexLoft adjustability and unique high-speed cavity back technology—all backed by the one-on-one support of a Nike fitting guru.”

I’ll say it again. I’m a golf junkie, and the invitation is worded exactly how I would expect a driver fitting/comparison to go. I’m all for new equipment, but not until I know how it stacks up against what I’ve already grown to love and use on a daily basis. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to see how Nike’s new Covert performed. And then I went to my local Golf Galaxy to participate…..

I walked into the store, a store I frequent at least twice a week during the golf season, to an expected swarm of people who are also excited about the impending spring. The weather has finally turned, the sun was shining, golf courses are starting to open, and people are in their local Golf Galaxy to check out the latest apparel and equipment. The store’s putting green was full of a local college golf team’s players, competing for what we will assume are bragging rights. The clothing department is a collection of all walks of life, trying to decide which latest fashion will make them play better, or at least look like their beloved Rickie Fowler. Resisting the urge to stop the elderly gentleman from buying a flat billed orange hat, I walked past and approached my nearest Sales Associate.

Me- “Hi, are you doing the Nike Covert Distance Challenge today?”

Sales Associate- “Which one?”

Me- “The Covert driver fitting and comparison.”

SA- “Which club you wanna hit?”

Me- “Uh, the driver?”

SA- “I mean which head. Tour or regular?”

Me- “Tour head, that’s what’s on my current driver.”

With this nugget of new information, the Sales Associate scurries off, with no indication if I was to follow or wait for him. I followed him, because it just felt right. I caught up to him digging through a pile of Nike equipment conveniently located by the same launch monitor on which I was fit for my last driver.

“Perfect” I say to myself, “This should be fun. Let’s get on this launch monitor and get things started.” Instead, the Sales Associate asks what loft I want to hit. I think to myself “That’s strange, shouldn’t we determine what loft is best during the fitting?” But, rather than get in the way of what I assumed was his process, I said, “I play a 10.5 now, let’s go with that.” The Sales Associate hands me a club, points to a simulator and says “That simulator’s open” and wanders away, never to be seen again. At no point during our encounter did I get the feeling that this simulator time was going to be for me to warm up, get a feel for the club, nothing. So, I hit a few shots into the simulator with this new club, waited around for the Sales Associate’s unlikely return, and then left the store. Not only did I leave without the sleeve of golf balls I was promised, I left with no more knowledge of the Covert driver than I had when I went into the store compounded by the sour taste of poor customer service in my mouth. Thankfully, I was headed to lunch shortly after.

I won’t let myself believe this was the actual process that Nike or Golf Galaxy had in mind when they sent this invitation. If this was in fact the process, I don’t have the words to describe my disappointment. Maybe this Sales Associate was supposed to perform the fitting, and just wasn’t having a good day. I doubt this as well, as the invitation said Nike Guru’s would be on site to perform the fitting. In my opinion, one of two things happened, neither of which are acceptable but would provide some explanation.

1- This Sales Associate had no idea what I was talking about, but rather than ask someone, he thought it would be easier to send the oblivious customer, who he assumed had no intention of actually buying a golf club, to the nearest simulator to wail away on some balls.

2- The actual Nike Guru was not at the store as advertised, but rather than tell me that, thought it would be easier to send the oblivious customer, who he assumed had no intention of actually buying a golf club, to the nearest simulator to wail away on some balls.

As an aside, the day prior to this, I was randomly paired for 9 holes with a manager of that very store, and I had mentioned my intentions to do this fitting, and he seemed to know what I was talking about. All of these factors leave me at a loss for a valid explanation of my experience. I went into this Covert Challenge fully prepared to write a review of the process, and ultimately of my opinion of the Nike Covert driver itself. So, what is my opinion of the process and ultimately of the driver itself? I’ll offer some words of advice I was recently given.

“That simulator’s open.”

Next post.

Binge, Purge, Repeat, and Enjoy

March 19, 2013 / / 6 Comments

The official start of spring is only a few days away. Unless, you subscribe to the theories of those witch doctors known as meteorologists. Somehow, in their crazy brains, the start of “meteorological spring” actually occurred on March 1. Those clowns have been pissing me off repeatedly for a few months now, and this is just another example. Anyway, Spring has almost sprung, as the old saying goes. I write these ramblings sitting in my home office looking out my window into my backyard, and as of this writing, only a small pile of snow remains where the sun doesn’t quite yet shine. And there’s some in my yard too.

I call this the season of Hope. In the upper Midwest, where I reside, I subscribe to the theory of 4 seasons, like the rest of the world. However, my seasons are Hope, Summer, Sadness, and Hell. I’ve spent this latest season, Hell (winter), under the spell of my annual coping mechanism, oblivion. Sure I know what’s going on outside, and I deal with that, however when it comes to golf, I shut off my brain. Whether it be thinking about it, writing about it, watching it, or anything else involving it, it’s best I just avoid them all together. As all 4 of my faithful readers know, I’ve been fortunate enough to take a few trips to the desert this year to play a some rounds, and earlier this week I spent 36 holes in 80 degree sunshine in the tropical locale of Kansas City, Missouri. Upon my arrival back home, a dejected, isolationist funk overcame me, once again. That funk led to an epiphany, a way to describe to those not addicted to the wretched game of golf just how I was feeling. And, my lack of motivation to go to the gym this morning is leading me to write about it. So, you, the reader, are benefiting from both my depression and my laziness, how thoughtful of me.

Is there anything more painful to an addict than the occasional hit of a drug, knowing during the entire trip that after coming down from that high the next hit could be weeks, even months away? Is that a reason to celebrate the buzz, or lament its futility? As I review the past few months, the question I continually ask myself, was taking those trips good or bad? Now, even I will acknowledge the memories and friends made on those trips far outweigh the angst of the occasional hit of my chosen drug. But, as far as the psychological impact of these random golf benders, is the binge and purge method really a good one? All doctors, self proclaimed experts, or anyone that stayed in a Holiday Inn Express last night will tell you, moderation is the key to happiness. But let’s face it, I don’t do anything half-assed. Except of course exercise, work, cleaning my house, yard work, laundry, cleaning my garage, balancing my checkbook, double checking my taxes…. Well ok, you get the point, I don’t do golf half assed. I also stayed in a Holiday Inn Express last week, so does that make me an expert too?

After much reflection, and a few cups of coffee, I’ve come to a decision. Maybe the binge and purge method isn’t the best method, but it’s the only method I know. I’d much rather have the excitement of an upcoming golf trip to get me through the dark dreary winter days than nothing at all. Like any good addict, I will continue to do anything in my power to feed my addiction. The first step to overcoming an addiction is to admit we are powerless over the drug, and that our lives have become unmanageable.

I admit I’m powerless, but so far I seem to be managing just fine.

Next post.

Is this real life?

February 19, 2013 / / 6 Comments

Post written by Levi.

I remember once explaining the difference between Facebook and Twitter to a less tech-savvy coworker. “Facebook is a way to keep in touch with your friends. Post a status or photo about what’s going on in your life. Twitter is for people to tell other people they’re standing in line at Subway. I don’t care that someone’s standing in line ordering a sandwich.” I created a Twitter account on July 4 2009.

I created that account for 1 reason really. That reason, obviously, was to feed my addiction to golf. I’d heard that professional golfers were all “tweeting” and I, eternally frustrated by what I considered to be too slow of a golf news cycle on the major websites, figured following their “tweets” would keep me more informed. I set up my account, and followed anyone related to professional golf I could find. Players, writers, caddies, you name it, if it was related to the game of golf I followed. I had no intention of tweeting. In all honesty, I didn’t quite know how to use it. And, I loved it. I could see what Stewart Cink was putting on his smoker, I could see pictures of pros playing cards during rain delays, I could read what caddies did after the round, it was an all access pass into the game and lives of professional golfers. Over time, I’d add a real life friend in the mix, or a friend of a friend, or a guy I knew from golf, but it remained primarily a tool for me to see inside the world of professional golf. I’d tweet occasionally, that tweet going out to all 14 of my followers. My tweets were only about golf, Twitter was to be my online golf persona, nothing else. Over time, I gained some followers I didn’t know, presumably based on my random golf tweets.

And then, at some point, everything changed. Acquaintances turned into friends. Friends of those friends became friends of mine. But, that’s pretty much where it stopped. There was always one degree of separation between those new friends and myself. The more followers I had, the more I tweeted. I stuck to golf, primarily, because I had my Facebook account for my “real” friends. At the risk of rambling, I’m going to yadda yadda over the next year of my Twitter existence. Fast forward to about 3 months ago. I had slowly but surely stopped following golfers, writers, and generally anyone I didn’t “know”. My followers were real people, most of whom I’d never heard of and certainly never met. I followed people with whom the only connection we had was the love of golf. I’d actually started to strike up genuine friendships with strangers from all over the world.

At some point in December, I was invited to join some Twitter friends (normally I’d put “friends” in quotation marks, but these individuals have truly become friends) on a trip to Scottsdale for a golf vacation. The plan was for golf, friends, and a trip to the one and only Waste Management Phoenix Open.

I’m not going to get into the details of the trip, I don’t feel like words can do it even close to justice. One item I will share, however, is a shining example of how friendships can be created by social media. The group had rented a condo about 2 blocks from the main entrance of TPC Scottsdale. When I got to town, I had the address, and when I arrived at the condo, the door was cracked open. Did I knock? Hell no. I opened the door, barged in and the virtual friendship we’d all grown comfortable with immediately transferred to real life.

Levi, the captain, at WMO

I spent 3 nights and 4 days, had thousands of laughs and created innumerable memories with the group that week. Herb (@mctwentytwo) and Courtney (@lilwolp) came from Pennsylvania, myself (@Levigolfs) from Iowa, Cody (@golfingblademan) and Tiffany (@tiffanyrn11) from Southern Arizona and Matt (@oneputtblunder) from Phoenix all welcomed each other with open arms and open hearts that week.

There is no reason on this earth that the 6 of us should have been put together for those few days in Scottsdale. But let me say this, I’m glad the earth spun its magic and made that week happen. I’d have considered every one of those individuals friends prior to that meeting at what has been dubbed #scottsdale2013, but I consider them to be lifelong friends today. I can also easily name another 10 or 15 “tweeps” that would be encouraged and welcomed to #scottsdale2014. The last I checked, there’s no such thing as too many friends.

What’s the moral of this story? I guess I haven’t really thought that far yet. The moral of this story… the most random of occurrences can have the most unexpected results. So many of us, myself being the biggest offender, focus so much of our lives on the game of golf. While I’ve known this forever, this trip reinforced my belief that golf isn’t just a game. Golf is the facilitator to the good life. Sure, I have good days and bad days. I hit more bad shots than I hit good shots. I yell at my steering wheel after another missed cut, and I might drink a little too much when I get home. But, at the end of the day, the people I’ve met because of this wretched game have become lifelong friends. So, before we all die and come back as zombies looking to feed on the fresh flesh of non-golfers, lets enjoy today and look forward to tomorrow.

The photo/video montage can be seen here. Many photos of the all the shenanigans as well as the guys’ golf swings can be found within.

Editor’s note: I’m pretty sure Levi met me before any of these people on the twitters. And that I “introduced”  him to some key players, without which, this story may never have taken place. Yet, I got no mention. I’m a little put off. I should be big about this and not say anything, but I’m not. I’m bitter that I couldn’t join them on the trip due to prior obligations. Maybe he’s the bitter one. Because he can’t have really forgotten that, right? :p  Anyway, the twitters have brought a lot to my life as well. And I can’t wait to meet my twitter friends in “real life” for the first time. And, in case you’re wondering, I’m @thegolfchick on the twitters. Hope to see you there!

 Next post.

Dear Santa

December 25, 2012 / / 4 Comments

As most of you know, and some of you probably even care, I’m currently buried under more than a foot of snow, and oppressed with temperatures hovering around 0 degrees f. For my readers across the pond, I have no idea what that means in your crazy Metric system. Yes I know I sound like a closed minded American, and, well… I just don’t understand Metric. This combination of annual events generally leads me to completely forget about my passion for all things golf, as a coping mechanism. This year is no different, however, I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to take some trips, with more planned, to the desert to chase the sun, feel the warmth, and watch that little white golf ball fly in the completely wrong direction as intended. Some people call me crazy to fly 3000 miles round-trip for a weekend of sun and golf, and it pains me to say this, those people are right. But, I’m not crazy by their definition, I’m crazy by the addicted golfer definition. Do what it takes to do what we love.

As I sit here at my computer this Christmas morning, drinking my Bailey’s and coffee, looking out my window over the barren landscape of white and grey, I’m almost feeling prepared to write something inspirational that cures the world of all its ill’s. But, then I remember I’m not capable of that, and even if I were, you wouldn’t be reading a golf blog for that inspiration. Its the holiday season, and this season is supposedly supposed to make us all sit back and reflect on what the prior year has taken and given, how we feel about those events, and what they mean to us. More has happened in the last month than most of us have cared to deal with.

The Mayan calendar supposedly signaled the end of the world for Dec 21, and unless our pre-armageddon lives are eerily similar to our post-apocalypse existence, there’s a whole bunch of Mayan’s laughing and pointing at us from the afterlife. There wasn’t a giant earth-shattering explosion, no asteroid carrying Bruce Willis and the remnants of his world saving space craft plummeted through the atmosphere, and no zombies came out of the ground looking to feed on our soft supple skin. Now, I’ve never been a big believer of zombies, although I did recently see an interview with Joan Rivers and I’m starting to rethink my stance. In the days leading up to Dec 21, I often though to myself (i’ve had a lot of free time on my hands) if the world does end, I hope its some slow but obvious chain of events that allows us to enjoy the end, not just some instant end where no one gets to play the “I told you so” game. If there was a zombie uprising, would you let one into your Saturday morning scratch skins game, knowing that zombie doesn’t have near the flexibility or mental fortitude to make a good golf swing, and risk potential death to take his money? What if he coughed in your backswing? Say something and risk annihilation? Will the undead give you that 6inch putt? What if he takes an illegal drop? Let it go, or make him play a new ball, and risk having your face chewed off? What if Joan Rivers is a sandbagger and you get taken? See what I did there? I got you all imagining how a zombie would look, and then threw Joan Rivers at you. You can’t un-imagine that. If Joan Rivers happens to be reading this, I’m sorry Joan, no harm intended, but you really went overboard with your procedures. Even Dick Clark taught us that no matter how young we continue to look, our bodies will eventually give out. In case the reader didn’t realize, A.D.D. is fun sometimes.

Anyway, a few days before the forecasted apocalypse, a disturbed kid went into an ELEMENTARY school and gunned down 20 kids, 6 teachers, and his mother. If we didn’t believe in the end of the world, that morning we all collectively had a small piece of us that hoped the Mayan’s were right. If that kind of shit was happening, why do we even want to be here? Whats the tie-in to golf here? Nothing. I just wanted to talk about that. The issues surrounding that event are far to complex for my mind to comprehend or even have an opinion about. The world needs to change, and we golfers are supposedly the most honest and caring group of them all. And if we aren’t, we should make that our mission to be known as such. We can change the world with one act of random kindness at a time. Hey, there’s that golf tie in I was looking for! And, in the words of Forrest Gump, that’s all I have to say about that.

As I said, its Christmas morning, and I have some Christmas wishes.

Wish 1 – I want the game of golf to grow, for club rosters to be full, for people to see the value and benefit of the game of golf in their lives.

Wish 2 – I want every single one of you to test yourself in some sort of an individual tournament. Net, Scratch, Matchplay, Strokeplay, whatever. The feeling of knowing there’s no one to bail you out, to know the shot you’re about to hit matters, thats an experience every golfer should know. You’ll appreciate that game more, and no matter what you shoot, how you finish, you’ll be a better player for it.

Wish 3 – I want to turn my negative emotions to positive emotions, and build on them. I can’t change the past, can only control the next shot. And if it doesn’t go where I wanted it to go, chase that ball down and try again.

Wish 4 – Give back. Buy a kid a lesson. Buy a kid a sleeve of golf balls. Give a kid your “lucky” ball if you encounter them on the course. Instead of playing thru that group of 2 kids, join them. And be an adult while you’re at it. If kids see you acting like a jackass on the course, they’ll do the same. Then, watch them play, the enthusiasm they have, encourage their shots, all of them. It will wear off on you, I promise. Basically what I’m saying is be a good example.

Wish 5- Play like a kid. Its a game, its fun, we wouldn’t have started playing it if it wasn’t.

Wish 6- PLAY FASTER!

Wish 7- Buy something from your club. Sure, that shirt, club, dozen balls, glove, or whatever may be a few dollars more expensive than it is at the discount big-box retailer, but your Pro is trying to make a living providing you with a service. Take advantage of that. And while you’re at it, take a lesson.

Wish 8- Get to know someone you’re randomly paired with on the course. Some of my best friends are people I met on the 1st tee of local muni’s.

Wish 9- I want to golf with some of the amazing people I’ve met on Twitter. That sounds crazy, but, one can’t ever have too many friends. (side note – this has already been arranged for a late January round with friends from all over the US, and its going to be a blast).

Wish 10- GO LOW.

Well kids, I’m out of coffee and its now Christmas afternoon. No matter your reason for celebrating, and no matter how you are celebrating, I hope you’re having a good time at it. I’d love to see some of your Christmas wishes. Post them in the comments, or send them to me at Levi@thegolfchick.com. I’m always looking for new things to write about, maybe you’ll give me some inspiration. And, if your wish is for me to stop writing these pointless blog posts, Santa is watching you, knows where you golf, and the next time you hit a shot OB, remember what you wished for!!!

Next post.

HomeStriker Training Golf Ball Review

November 16, 2012 / / 2 Comments

I received my HomeStriker Training Golf Ball in the mail, and was immediately confused by the contents of the package. I was under the impression that I would receive a state of the art, space age interpretation of a golf ball that mimicked the feel and flight characteristics of a real golf ball. Then, I open the package and find a brand new Nike golf ball, with what appears to be a handkerchief superglued to it. Two things immediately occurred to me when seeing this… #1 – why in the world would someone attempt to super glue a handkerchief to a golf ball, and #2 – the miniscule amount of physics that I do understand says that this handkerchief will slow the golf ball at an incredible rate after being struck with a golf club.

The day I received this package, it was about 35 degrees, cloudy, and windy. But, I was determined to smack this concoction around, and immediately grabbed a 6 iron and went to my back yard. I tossed the HomeStriker on the ground, and scared to death about my neighbors windows, took a half swing at the device. A pure strike, with about half effort, resulted in a well struck golf ball with realistic feel that traveled roughly 15 yards. I chased the ball down (not a lot of work) and gave it another half whack…. another 15 yards, but those 15 yards were the result of a normally 90 yard swing. Still scared, but with a renewed curiosity, I decided to take a full swing at this contraption. Still not fully trusting it, I went to my front yard, where I paced off 30 yards from the street to myself, having been told that 30 yards is the flight limit of this practice aid. Thankfully I waited until an unsuspecting car passed, as a full lash at the HomeStriker resulted in a 40 yard launch of the handkerchief adorned golf ball. After retrieving the ball from the street, greeting my across the street neighbor, and thanking my well written home owners insurance policy that I didn’t hit any passing cars, I realized that the test shot was considerably downwind. The 40 yard shot was the absolute limit of my power, and the feedback from striking a real golf ball was refreshing.

After taking a few more swings, I began to evaluate this practice device. My initial reaction, and the reaction that I was going to stick with, wasn’t a great one for the HomeStriker. I have unlimited access to a practice facility, and the ability to hit practice balls at most hours of the day. Sure, it was great that the practice ball had the feel characteristics of a real golf ball, but it has nothing close to the performance characteristics. I can’t practice a draw, fade, hook, cut, low, high, etc etc shot with it. It seemed like a novelty at the time, with no real benefit to someone like me, who’s lucky enough to have unlimited access to practice facilities. So, after a few strikes, I gave up on the device and tossed it in my golf bag and forgot about it.

Some background on me, I love the game of golf, I love everything about it, except for the individuals that like to play golf in the mornings. I love the game, I love my friends, but I also love to sleep. However, in the interest of being able to play with my friends, I sacrifice some sleep on the weekends and play golf with my buddies on early morning weekends. If the tee time is 8:00am, there’s a good chance that the other 3 guys in my group will have teed off already as I show up on the first tee at 8:02, tired, hungover, and in no condition to be making a full driver swing on the 470 yard par 4 first hole of my club.

As much as I hate waking up early, I hate the “breakfast ball” even more. If you’re so concerned about hitting a good one off the first tee that you want a mulligan of the 1st tee, show up early enough to warm up on the range. I’m neither concerned enough about hitting a good ball off the first tee, nor do I really want to show up in time to warm up. I assume bogey on the 1st hole that early in the morning, and figure that extra few minutes of sleep will probably help me make birdie on the 2nd hole to get back to even par as much as it will allow me to make a par 4 on the 1st hole. I love sleep.

The weekend after testing the HomeStriker and tossing it into the black hole that is my non-tournament bag, I happened to show up to the course a few minutes prior to tee time. As my faithful bartender was making me a Baileys and coffee (it was october after all) I had a few minutes to kill, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to head to the range to hit 2 warm up balls, and practice putting at that hour of the morning seemed ridiculous. I dug into my bag to find a tee, and came out with a handful of HomeStriker. The proverbial lightbulb went off in my head (granted it was early and cold, so the lightbulb wasn’t as bright as it should be, but in any event it was a lightbulb). I’m too lazy to head to the range to hit 2 warmup shots, but I hate watching my fellow competitors hit 2 off the first tee. Well, I’ve got a “golf ball” that no matter how hard I hit it, will only go 40 yards, which I can tee up and launch off our practice green, retrieve and hit back towards the original spot. Anyone that’s ever attempted this knows, that no matter how much you take “warm up” swings, if you’re not hitting a real golf ball it just isn’t the same. So, I tossed down the HomeStriker, and gave it a few whacks. This device immediately solved my issues. I don’t have to take the time to hit 2 or 3 range balls prior to my early morning round, and I don’t have to wake up 5 minutes earlier to facilitate that warm up. I can do some basic “1st tee stretches,” tee it up, and hit a few warmup shots prior to my 1st tee shot.

If this was prior to an actual tournament, I’d head to the range to warm up, hit different shot shapes, heights, clubs, distances, you name it. But this is my weekend fun play, I’m not going to take the time to do my proper warm up. The HomeStriker allows me a few swings, hitting a real golf ball, prior to my round. The golf ball is retrievable, reusable, and I don’t have to worry about breaking neighboring windows or bombarding fellow golfers with an errant warmup shot.

So, what is my opinion of the HomeStriker Training Golf Ball? In all honesty, I don’t see it as a “training golf ball”. A training aid, to me, allows someone to see shot shapes, heights and distances and allows the golfer to learn what each particular swing does to the golf ball. The HomeStriker, no matter how much I tried, won’t hook, draw, cut, or slice. I believe a true training aid needs to let the player see and experience those shots and the swing variations that create them. But, do I think the HomeStriker has value in the golfing world? Absolutely. It has proven to be an invaluable warmup tool in my previously contracted and neglected weekend off-season warmup routine. To this point, nothing can replace the experience of striking a real golf ball prior to a round, whether it be a full warmup session on the range, or a few quick hits on a HomeStriker Training Golf Ball. With the proper expectations going into a HomeStriker Training Golf Ball purchase, I believe it has a place in the game.

Next post.

Chasing The Dream?!?

November 8, 2012 / / 6 Comments

***Editor’s Note/Disclaimer: WARNING! This post contains the “S” word. Read at your own risk. TheGolfChick.com assumes no responsibility for any negative effects that reading this material may have on your game or your life. ***

 I’ve been watching the new Golf Channel show called Chasing the Dream, and it’s invoked some unexpected emotions and opinions from me. So much so, that I’m going to blog about it. In case you’re not familiar with the show, I’ll give you, my faithful readers, a brief synopsis. Golf Channel has found two professional golfers, each with a dream to make it in the professional game, and is following them during the 2012 season to see if they can reach their dream.

The two golfers come from vastly different backgrounds, which adds an interesting element to the show. One individual, Chris Anderson, is a former touring professional who even made it to the big show for a few years in the mid 2000’s. He has 3 professional wins, 2 on the Golden State tour, and 1 on the Hogan/Nike/Buy.com/Nationwide/Web.com tour in 2004. According to the show, Chris gave up the game to run his family’s forklift business in 2009, with the new responsibility of raising a young family. After a few years away, the “what if” bug has infected him, and he wants to give it another go. The other golfer, Robbie Biershenk, is a struggling driving range pro with an older brother (Tommy) who’s already made the PGATOUR. Robbie, who calls himself “Shank,” owns a roadside driving range, struggles with failing equipment and mounting bills, and gives the occasional lesson to make ends meet, all while living in the shadow of his brother. (Full disclosure – The word “shank” is a contagious disease to me. His nickname makes me hesitate to even watch the show. For anyone who’s ever had a case of the hosels, broken every club in their bag over their knee while standing on a driving range for hours, bashing ball after ball at a 90 degree right angle, barely able to see through the tears streaming out of their eyes and the blood dripping from their hands, that word needs to be removed from the English language. In fact, even saying that word at the course I grew up on would get you kicked out, and potentially beaten up by the geriatric retired men who felt even more strongly about that word than I do. I will be referring to him as Robbie, and will attempt to not let his truly awful nickname influence my opinion of him or the show.) Robbie feels that to to truly succeed in life, he has to succeed on the PGATOUR.

I’ve been watching this show for 3 or 4 weeks now, since its debut. In all honesty, my initial reaction was anger towards these guys. I had planned, and began writing, a scathing narrative chastising these guys for being ignorant and irresponsible, blindly chasing a dream that so many of us have, but are either too logical or frightened to pursue. And then, I watched another episode, and another…and I started to sympathize with their struggle. Those guys are chasing a dream that so many of us have, but are either too logical or frightened to pursue. Now I have 2 contradictory opinions about their pursuit, and after weeks of internal debate, cannot decide which side of my own argument to take.

Argument #1 – Wide Eyed Optimism

Both Chris and Robbie have a dream. Lots of golfers have the exact same dream, and some of those golfers have considerably more talent. Playing professional golf at an elite level takes more than being able to shoot good scores. Shooting those good scores, on increasingly difficult courses under smothering pressure requires hours of instruction and dedication to the art of striking a golf ball. Lots of players can hit good shots, but very few have the time and energy to devote to perfecting that art. Assuming a player has the time to dedicate, even fewer of those players have a body that can stand up to the number of golf swings a full day of practice requires. Robbie and Chris have incredibly long odds, and I commend them for not giving up. Both of them have careers, Chris even has a family to support, but they are both willing to make the mental, physical, and emotional sacrifices required to not let their dreams die. Their wide-eyed enthusiasm is refreshing in an increasingly adult world filled with commitments and responsibilities. They refuse to give up, and are an inspiration to every one of us who will always ask “what if” when it comes to potential golf careers. They know the odds are stacked against them, and while they don’t have the ability to dedicate 100% of their lives to playing golf, they are making due with what they have. They are practicing smart, focusing on what needs attention at the time, rather than their entire game every day. I genuinely hope they succeed and reach their goals.

Argument #2 – Are They Crazy?!?

What are these guys thinking? For every golfer who’s made a career playing the game, a thousand have failed. At some point, it’s time to grow up and accept that just because they want something, it doesn’t mean it will happen. Both of these guys are around 40 years old, 20 years older than the most recent crop of hopeful touring pros. 20 years older than the guys with no bad memories, and no crushing defeats, and no responsibilities waiting for them outside of the ropes. Chris and Robbie had their shots, now its time to accept the fact that golf wasn’t meant to be, and they should move on. These guys are splitting time between careers and golf, neither getting their full attention. Too much of that, and both will suffer. Guess what, we all have dreams, we will all go to our grave with a giant “what if” hanging over our head, but at some point we have to grow up and cut our losses. Give up already.

I don’t have any idea which side of my own argument to take. The cynical part of me thinks these guys need to get a clue, accept the fact they just don’t have it, and move on with life. The child in me thinks its great, these guys have thrown caution to the wind, risking all they have spent their lives building on the chance they catch lighting in a bottle at the exact right time. Each episode is like watching a train wreck with a new girlfriend. On the inside, wanting to see carnage and destruction, with no hope for survival and one heck of a story to tell the local news crew. All the while, telling the new girlfriend what you’re watching is awful and you hope everyone gets out safe. This is normally where I’d have some sort of conclusion statement, summarizing my thoughts. This time, however, I have no idea what I think. No idea at all.

Next post.

Ignore Me at Golf’s Peril

October 24, 2012 / / 6 Comments

Editor’s Note: Once again, it’s my pleasure to introduce a new addition to the guest bloggers of The Golf Chick Golf Blog! As our next alternate perspective, I happily present to you Mary, a.k.a. Breadchick. She had a long running, highly regarded food blog, and now brings her fun perspective and sassy opinions to us in the golf arena! Gather what you may from Mary’s bio, her previous writings and her awesome presence on twitter (@breadchick), but she comes to us relatively anonymously to share her unrestricted opinions. Not that any of us pull punches here, but her anonymity might provide her with an ability to speak more freely from her world. This should be fun! Welcome, Mary, and thank you for contributing on TGC!

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So,  you boys say you want to save golf.  If so, you better start thinking like the girls.

Once again, I am leaving a pro shop;  having dropped close to $100.00 on balls, gloves, tees and a new shirt,  feeling like I’m a third class passenger on the Titanic locked below decks while all the swells in first class have been serenaded into their waiting lifeboats.  What has me clinging to the flotsam of the ocean of golf wondering if there is any safe harbor for me you ask?   The total lack of regard and respect for the largest untapped segment in golf, women.

For all the talk about growing the game with “Tee it Forward” and “Golf 2.0” initiatives and the lamenting  by the golf industry over the ”down economy contributing to the loss of players”, there has been little if any real on the ground and in the trenches initiatives to help show the good ole boy network behind the counters in the thousands of pro shops, starter shacks and golf retail super stores across the country that every day potential golfers, in the form of women, walk through their front door only to be turned away by a blank stare, a condescending action, or by ignoring their existence.

A prime example of this attitude happened two weeks ago when I was shopping for two new wedges so I could play a round with my back-up clubs.  I had been separated from my normal sticks because after a golfing vacation I decided to try the “ship it home” option with that well-known shipping company that sponsors the PGA playoffs.   I am also in the market for new wedges since I’m still playing with a pair of non-conforming grooved Mizuno MPTs.   So, this was a perfect opportunity to kill two proverbial birds.

On my way home from work on a Tuesday afternoon, I stopped by one of the national chains of golf retailers to try out a few different wedges and buy a new 56* and a new 60*.  Since it was late afternoon mid-week the store was basically deserted.  There were three men working around the front restocking and watching the Braves on the TV in the shoe section of the store.  In the back, there was one gentleman working with a customer in the club repair department and two male employees hitting balls in the bays.   Five of the six employees saw me and one even said, “Welcome to So-So” but didn’t offer “Let me know if I can help you with anything”.   After wandering through the club section for about five minutes looking for the wedges (and in full disclosure, fondling the RazrX irons that will soon be taking up residence in my bag), I found the wedge brands I was interested in and proceeded to pull a few from the slots to get a feel for how they felt in my hands, the weighting of the club, and gently feeling the bounce on the carpet.   Not one employee came up to me to offer assistance or suggestions even though two employees, including the one that greeted me, were working in the area arranging clubs.

Narrowing down my choices, I took the three I liked best and proceeded to head back to the area of the store set up for trying out clubs.  Where I proceeded to stand around and stand around and stand around some more despite the two guys hitting balls in adjacent bays who clearly saw me holding clubs in my hand, one guy heading back to the storeroom who made every effort to ignore that I was standing there holding clubs in my hand and the guy in the club repair who stared right through me.

It wasn’t until I went into the wedge area to retrieve some balls so I could hit a few that someone finally came up to me.  However, it wasn’t to offer help but rather to say “You can’t go in there without an employee helping you”.   To which, I replied,  “Well if an employee actually cared about the fact I had been standing here for almost ten minutes waiting to be helped, I wouldn’t have gone into the wedge area”, handed him the clubs and walked out.

I’d like to say that the incident described above was a one-off experience but it isn’t.

Too often I’ve stood around in club sections of stores all over the country with clubs in my hands to try out for long periods of time, only to be told “The women’s section is over here” or to have to actively seek out someone for assistance, even after being seen or acknowledged.  I’ve been subjected to seeking out the very back corner of pro shops for a meager selection of women’s gloves and softer compression balls.   I’ve been glared at when I have walked into pro shops inquiring about “getting out as a single” and I’ve been directed to women’s locker rooms that were the standard of gas station bathrooms.    I’ve played from tee boxes so crooked, over-grown with weeds and crabgrass and un-level that I’ve had to take funny stances to stay balanced through my swing or have played from tee boxes that have been placed so close to a hard dog leg that I’ve taken a pitching wedge off the tee to avoid hitting the ball OB.   All to play a game I love so passionately and want to help grow so much it hurts and that I’m so obsessed by that I’m sure my family and friends fantasize about wrapping a five iron around my neck sometimes.

So, I have a few suggestions for the golf industry on getting the largest untapped market, women, on your courses and spending our hard-earned money in your pro shops  and retail box stores.

  1. Don’t assume I’m in your store or pro shop to buy something for my husband/boyfriend/father/etc.   You wouldn’t assume my father was shopping for anyone but himself so don’t assume it of me.
  2. Don’t assume that I’m going to be shopping for women’s clubs if I’m in the club section of your shop.   Of all the women I play with on a regular basis, only three play women’s clubs.  The others are like me and play men or senior flex shafts and clubs.   You would never dream of directing a man of a certain age to the senior clubs without asking him “what do you play”.  Do me the same courtesy.
  3. Don’t assume I don’t know anything about golf equipment technology.  I’m a tech geek.  I subscribe to every golf magazine and haunt the golf equipment forums online.  I know my Trackman numbers.  I know about shaft flex, tips, and torque.  I play high-tech graphite in my driver and fairway metals and steel in my irons.  I’m a feel player but I also want the best technology to help my game.
  4. While we’re on the subject of talking about golf technology, don’t talk down to me if you do explain something or I ask a question.  I’m not a five year old child. I’m a woman with an advanced degree in engineering from MIT and I’m guessing when you are talking to me about composite material engineering or ball flight trajectory I could tell you a thing or two about both.
  5. Having a few more shirts, balls, gloves and hats for women in your shop isn’t going to kill you.  I like to buy a shirt and/or a hat from the courses I play but too often all that I have to choose from is a visor or two and sleeveless collared shirt in two sizes (xs and s).   I lose balls and have to buy a sleeve at the turn but that sun faded box of Wilson Hope from five years ago isn’t a soft compression ball selection and I’m not paying $5 for them.
  6. Speaking of women’s clothing, not all of us are flat chested, no hipped, Lady GaGa biceped women.  Stock a few styles and sizes for those of us with normal chests/hips and with sleeves .  I’m not asking you to have a HUGE selection of women’s clothing, etc.  I know you have to turn your stock but more than a glove or two and one xs short-short skort would be nice.  I’m also betting if you had a little better selection for women, you’d move more women’s stock.

In regards to on course suggestions for bringing  women onto the course, here a few ideas:

  1. Don’t assume I’m playing from the forward tees.  Unless I’m playing with my mother,  I play from the tees between 5100 – 5600 yds.  Sometimes this is the forward tees, sometimes it is the senior tees and sometimes it is the members’ tees.   If you are the starter, ask me what tees I’m playing from or what my typical yardage is and suggest the appropriate tees.
  2. Don’t assume it’s the women on the course slowing down play.  I have yet to play in a group of all women that haven’t had the sense to “pick up” when they get to a certain number of shots (usually six) or just shrug when a ball is lost in the woods.  I’ve never played with a woman who has taken endless practice swings to then top a ball and send it skittering 20 yards forward or hit six putts on a green to hole out.  However,  I’ve stood behind countless groups of men taking every shot, even when they are on their tenth shot halfway down the fairway or taken fifteen practice swings to duff one off the toe of the club. I’ve watched four men spend 20 minutes looking for a duck hook into woods so deep Bigfoot probably lived there and watched endless groups of men putting out like the US Open was riding on the fifth putt from 1’.  (Exception to picking up and putting out: tournament play and handicap rounds).
  3. Take as much care with the maintenance of the forward two sets of tees as you would with the  back tees and the tips.  If you wouldn’t want to tee off from that box because of the condition and slope of the box, then I probably don’t either.
  4. A one stall bathroom with a naked light bulb and a floral box of tissues is not a woman’s locker room.  I’m not expecting dark wood paneling and a fully stocked bar ala Sea Island’s legendary men’s locker room but if your webpage says “locker room facilities” I’m at least expecting a place to sit down, change my shoes, and maybe even take a shower.
  5. Finally, be happy to see me walk into your shop/onto your course.  I’m there because I love golf as much as you do and want to spend my money in your facility.  If I have a good time on your course or if I am treated well in your shop/store I’m going to be back and I’m telling my golfing friends about you.  If you don’t treat me well, I promise, I’m going to let all my golfing friends, male and female, know about my experience.  And anyone else who will listen…
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Another editor’s note:  Even though you may be somewhat anonymous, I still know who you are and hereby present you with your first day chip!

We’re not anonymous, we are identified. We’ll talk about golf to anyone who will listen. We’re addicts and our golf tans are badges of honor. Happy to know you. Welcome, Mary!

One shot at a time. Keep coming back!

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The End Is Near : Maybe the Mayans Were Golfers

October 19, 2012 / / 6 Comments

The end is near.  Wait a minute…Before you think I went all Harold Camping on you, I won’t be asking for donations to build a media campaign to inform the masses of the imminent apocalypse (unless of course you want to send me money, then I accept personal checks and PayPal).  But, back to the topic at hand.  The end is certainly near.  The Mayans were right you ask?  No, not that end either.  Justin Bieber still hasn’t reproduced, so we’re good for a while.  But, can you imagine the fun we could have if we knew for a fact the Mayans were in fact right, and we had 2 months left to plan and execute a militant type takeover of Augusta National, so we can all die knowing our bucket list was officially kicked?  And, since we’re in charge, we could get a fleet of carts, strap some stereos and kegs to them, and just have a good old time and watch the Green Jackets squirm?  Now I’m starting to hope the Mayans were right.  Anyone have any inside information that could be helpful?  Maybe I’ve had too much coffee this morning.

Seasons Exist

For those of us in a part of the world that experiences seasons, the end is most definitely near.  Since about March, (thank you Al Gore for inventing global warming) I have been treated to exponentially more days suitable for golf than weren’t.  Record heat and record drought resulted in more golfing days that ever before.  I don’t subscribe to the theory that it’s too hot to golf, so, many days I had the course almost to myself, except for the occasional fellow golf nerd I’d run into.  Golf outings could be planned days, weeks, even months in advance, because the chance of round-ruining weather was negligible at best.  There was enough light to golf well into the night, and I even heard a rumor that the sun was up and courses were open at close to 6am, but I can’t confirm that.  My social calendar was full, unavailable to anyone who wanted my time away from the game of golf.  I didn’t have to make plans, think of things to do on the weekends, or worry when my next round might get played.  In fact, I played so much golf, at times I’d convince myself to take some time away from the game, until after a few minutes I’d get bored and head to the course.  My days were filled with broad smiles and uncontrollable joy while playing, then rehashing, then planning the next round.  I was even told I was enjoyable to be around.  It was as close to heaven as a golf nut like myself can experience.

 

Image borrowed from http://www.worldend.org/2012/doomsday/pg1.html

The End of Times

Then, something happened.  It happens every year, but every year it seems to come earlier, and be more dramatic than the year before.  First, it gets darker earlier.  Then, the wind picks up and blows out of the north.  Then I find myself digging through the closet looking for a jacket to wear on the last few holes of the round.  Then the trees get sick.  The leaves turn a sickly brown color, and slowly start to fall off.  My Saturday morning tee time has to be pushed back, to allow for frost to clear off the greens.  My usual Thursday night game is cancelled because its raining and cold.  I stop practicing, my game loses its edge, but I don’t care anymore, because today could be the last round, so I want to enjoy it rather than grind out a score.  Then, one morning I wake up, and seemingly overnight every leaf that was once so healthy, green and proudly attached to the trees are all dead, laying on the ground, waiting for a bitter north wind to blow them away.  Sure, there will be a nice day here and there, and hopefully one of those nice days is on a weekend, so I can bundle up for a reunion with the 1st tee box.  But, when I get there, the grass is brown, and the course is but a shell of its former glorious self.  But, I’m a golf addict, and I slog ahead, still chasing whatever it is I’m chasing.

And now here I sit, staring out my window dreaming of the year that was.  Did I accomplish what I had hoped?  Did I put as much effort into my game that I should have?  Did I take time to enjoy the people I met, and get to know more of the other wonderful personalities that this incredible game has brought into my life?  Did I leave the course better than I found it?  Did I do anything to grow the game?  Did I enjoy the game like I did when I was a child, blissfully swinging and chasing that little ball with reckless abandon?  Winter’s coming, and I’ll have plenty of time to answer those questions, and put a plan in place to make 2013 the best year yet.  But, until then, the rain has slowed to a drizzle, my thermometer says its 45 degrees, and the wind has slowed to a manageable 25 mph gale; so if you’ll excuse me, I have an addiction to feed.  Because who knows, today could be the end.

[Editor’s note: Thanks, Levi. This may be the most depressing post about golf I’ve ever read. Unlike the zombie apocalypse and the 2012 Mayan prediciton, this annual golf apocalypse you speak of is no reason to party. My advice? Flee the state as soon as you can.]

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