Tips From The Rough… A Golf Blog

Yes, but mini-golf doesn’t count! Not if you want to call yourself a golfer. And why do people do that anyway… define themselves by what they do. You’re a carpenter, you’re a real estate developer, you’re a bogie golfer, you’re a politician. Couldn’t we instead just say something like, I build houses at twice the cost of my original estimate. I’m a landlord who keeps the subservient huddled masses from realizing their full potential. I am a hopeless dreamer. I am above the law. That would be so much clearer.

This way, when you have to give a speech in front of your daughter’s 3rd grade class, they’ll know just how to blame you for the way you’ve managed to wreak havoc upon the landscape of humankind when you introduce yourself. Especially when it comes to your delusional attempts at par golf. The amount of suffering you’ve inflicted upon mother earth with all those massive divots has set back horticulture as a science by at least a decade or so and contributed to global warming.

But maybe you have a point there though, about just calling yourself a golfer. That seems so innocent in comparison. After all, you could be known as someone who possesses two or three of the other above-noted personality traits. And that could truly be devastating.

The thing is, you don’t want to define yourself to tightly by what you do. For example, you could say, you’re a golfer who incorporates repetitive, spasmodic, musculo-skeletal quirkisms that periodically resemble what has become known to some in the sporting world as a golf swing. Or at least a close facsimile anyway. Propelling a ball airborne and forward is optional. After all, the swing’s the thing. Right? No, the best thing to do is just keep it simple.

Just say you’re a golfer. Period. People respect that. Especially 8 year old people. Especially if they haven’t seen you play. I mean, if you can talk the talk, then that should be good enough to fool any 3rd grader. You’d think so. But you would be wrong.

Legend has it that you’ve been known for quite some time now as Bogie. Part of the famous duo, aka, Bogie and The Ball. I mean “Here’s looking at you, kid”. Right? And it’s a sad sight indeed. The poor ball never had a chance of surviving 18 holes with you so I guess you’ll have to “Round up the usual suspects.” There has got to be a ball that cooperates with your dreams though. So I guess you could maybe say, “That’s the stuff that dreams are made of.” You could say that. Then again, maybe you should have thought about going into films.

Copyright © 2010, William Addison
www.scratchstats.com

After you play golf for awhile, you get to thinking, “How can I give back to the game that has given me so much?” After all, you have been given this great gift. And that gift is the ability to play a game unlike any other, a game that defies reason or explanation as to why you would even dare to venture out on the course, let alone enter a pro shop. A game that challenges your intellect, your bravado, your athleticism, your wallet.

And so the answer is… keep betting with your regular foursome for the next 20 years. You should have, by the end of the second decade or thereabouts, given back all of your Christmas bonuses, periodic review raises, cash advances on your Visa card and your coin collection.

Believe me, your golfing buds like your never-ending enthusiasm for pain and humiliation. They’re just glad you’ve chosen to lavish all those betting proceeds upon their greedy little hands. But, at least they’re polite about it for the most part when they ask you to fork it over at the end of a grueling day out there on the links. You know, it’s great to have buds like that. So patient, so compassionate, so loyal.

They constantly offer words of encouragement when your game goes south. Of course, if your game goes any further south you’ll be hitting snowballs in Antarctica and you’ll have some environmentalist breathing down your neck for wreaking havoc to that delicate glacier tundra. Imagine all of the carbon units he’d have to burn with his private jet, just to teach you a lesson. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that on your conscience. So really, you’d better get back out there on the practice range.

Hey wait! I’ve got it! I know how you can give back to the game! You can purchase a couple of thousand tokens and keep the range ball guy gainfully employed at least until 2012, or until your luck runs out when all of those Mayan calendar prophecies come full circle. By then you’ll be out of tokens or the continental United States will be ravaged from global warming… er… climate change, or you’ll have become so spiritually enlightened from all of those practice shots that you’ll be able to walk away from the game. Well, actually you’ll probably limp, but no matter, you’ll be so evolved as a human being that double-bogies will finally be acceptable.

Who needs this game anyway? And who came up with all of this stuff about giving back! You’d just like to win a skin or two before your teeth fall out, or at the very least, until you run out of tokens.

Copyright © 2010, William Addison
www.scratchstats.com

It just sits there, with impunity (i.e. exempt from punishment or freedom from the injurious consequences of an action) as defined in the rules of golf. That is to say, your not supposed to purposely heap abuse upon the ball (i.e. that round dimpled thing) as defined in the pro shop. Maybe you shouldn’t be spouting off things when you check-in like, “I’m gonna’ put some hurt on that thing!” or “I’m not gonna’ take no never mind from no flea-bitten ball!!” Apparently, you’ve digressed to emulating Yosemite Sam when you venture out onto the golf links.

This is so sad. After all, during your 9-5 job you’re a dynamo. Unstoppable in the way you move projects forward to completion without breaking a sweat or putting your fist through a wall. You don’t even possess a fist for that matter. You’re always calm, cool, collected and for the most part well-liked by all (well maybe not by that arrogant hot-shot 3-handicapper from purchasing). What a jerk. He can take his 4 iron and put it where the sun doesn’t shine!! Someday you’ll take him on and win every skin. It would be good to see that bozo pay!!!

Uh, maybe ya’all might want to consider a visit to anger management class or Dr. Phil or somethin’. I mean, how’s that workin’ for ya’?

But no, I have a feeling that you’re going to take your frustrations out on the poor, hapless little ball. What’d it ever do to you? I mean, it just sits there all week stuffed away in some hideous golf bag with all the other ball clones, devoid of any stimulation or sunlight. For the most part it’ll never escape the doom and gloom of not being chosen to go for that brief ride into outer space like all the other ball clones. This is why it came into the world. This is it’s mission. To be a hero to whichever golfer chooses to take it for that ultimate ride.

You can’t imagine the exhilaration at being whacked at 100+ miles per hour by something called a metal wood, all the while top-spinning at a dizzying rate of acceleration. Can you? Flying free from earth’s gravity and sailing into the wild blue yonder, it can be free from the shackles of earthly bondage. But only for a brief and fleeting moment.

Then suddenly, it’s drilled downward into the turf by something call a hybrid just so it can ride high into the wind again, all the while spinning backward! What equilibrium! Sand, cart paths, shattered windows and bristly ball washers will not deter this resilient sphere. And all you can think of is how much you’re gonna’ heap some hurt on the poor ball!

Give it a break! Have some compassion already! Next time you are staring down at the poor fellow, just talk nicely, think pleasant thoughts, and try not to feel so much guilt for the  damage you will inevitably do to it’s hi-tech outer core. By the way, all golf balls have been programmed at the factory to veer sharply into the nearest tree when it hears “Fore!!” Try yelling “Five!!” instead. That should short-circuit it’s programming and you should be clear of any trees. Either that, or you’ll be clear of your usual foursome.

Copyright © 2010, William Addison
www.scratchstats.com

If you hear things on the practice tee like, “You can’t handle the truth!”, you’re either watching too many Jack Nicholson movies, or maybe the hack behind you observing you’re pre-shot routine has been watching too many Jack Nicholson movies, or maybe your three year old son is just trying to get a valid point across. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked him how daddy did with that drive. Maybe your son should not be watching that many Jack Nicholson movies. But be that as it may, as I always say, your golf game will never be above the fray.

Poetry-in-motion. That’s how you’re game has been referred to by some who have dared to venture out on the course with you. Maybe they meant it was like rap music overladen with excessive iambic pentameter, or maybe like stilted Haiku. Of course, it sounded like a compliment at the time, this poetry-in-motion reference, but upon a more deep inner reflection you’ve now come to realize that you’re game resembles the musings of Edgar Allen Poe whilst in the throes of experiencing a bad hair day (i.e., an intense, violent pain or struggle). Perhaps you should allow your three year old son to demonstrate the proper kinetics of swing plane theory. At least he’s a natural at it.

I have to say that it’s really annoying to watch the pros swing like they’re sleep-walking while they slam a 300 yard drive into the wild blue. That is incredibly annoying to watch and it just doesn’t seem right. No one should be able to do that with such ease and then on top of that, not really care that much if it goes into the weeds because they know that they can bust a 160 yard 9 iron any time they want. Now that I think of it, I’m really getting ticked off!! The game is just too easy for them! Where’s the struggle? What happened to all of the drama?

That’s where you come in. You bring drama wherever you go. You can scare the livin’ bejesus out of your playing partners just by showing up on the range for a warm-up before your round. It’s a good thing the range has those wooden dividers between the stalls out there. Don’t they refer to you as “Ricochet-Rob” or “The Shank” rather than “The Shark”? Get over it! What’s in a name anyway? So what if they call you, “Worm-Burner Willie”. You’ll show ‘em when you get out on the course!!

Besides, when you check-in to pay for your round you are pretty darn convincing when you say, “Go ahead punk. Make my day”. Just make sure that the starter has a good sense of Clint Eastwood’s movie  history. You wouldn’t want to offend anyone.

Copyright © 2010, William Addison
www.scratchstats.com

Imagine how great you could play if you had unlimited funds to play and practice with. You could literally hit a thousand range balls a day, play 36 holes, practice endlessly out of the practice bunkers and perfect your putting stroke for hours on end. Imagine all that time and money… hmm I wonder. Would you really be that dedicated to achieving a high level of success? Would you find yourself constantly reaching for more… a better swing, better course management skills, better equipment, lesson after lesson, and on and on?

I mean, with all that money and time I wonder if you might be tempted to find some other pastime, hobby or sport to occupy your time that’s more leisurely in nature? Golf is one of the most difficult games to master and even with unlimited funds and time you might not want to struggle that much. In fact, I would wager a bet that you wouldn’t play five days a week and also practice before and after every round, rain or shine, no exceptions. On the weekends you would probably have to practice here and there just to keep sharp. Could you see yourself doing this kind of routine day in and day out, week after week? I’m guessin’ the answer is no.

I don’t mean to sound discouraging, actually just the opposite. Your attitude about golf should transcend your current reality. And what does that mean? Sounds like we’re in for some introspective thoughts here but don’t let that scare you! What I see as a way to balance your expectations, with where you are now with your game skills and where you want to be, is to have a current and  reality-checked snapshot, not only of your swing but of your game-based statistical analysis as well. That’s where stat-tracking with a method like the Scratchstats Scoring System™ can help.

With over 150 analytical categories to evaluate for each round as well as your historical averages and percents, you can easily gain the perspective that you need. The beauty of this system is that you only enter 27 categories as you play your round, and then enter those 27 categories into the database software. The program does the rest of the calculations for you and displays the results into “color-zoned” categories that are a breeze to understand. No confusing pie-charts and multi-lined trend graphs. Those work better for the stock market (or maybe not based on the current state of our economy). Just plain numbers, which is exactly what you need to put your efforts into perspective.

What I am alluding to above in the first paragraph is that in reality, except for a few brave souls, you probably will not dedicate every waking moment to perfecting your golf game. Actually, just the opposite! You most likely just want to enjoy a day off of work or your retirement or whatever. Don’t let all of the 330 yard screemin’ drive, hyped-up commercials that we’re bombarded with every day by club and ball manufacturers warp your perspective. You’ve got to keep it real, and if you do you’ll come off the golf course with the feeling that you know exactly what your game is about. Sure, dream big, but just realize that you’re not Tiger Woods. At least not yet. Right now, you might just be lost in the woods.

Copyright © 2010, William Addison
www.scratchstats.com

Fear, anxiety, depression. These are the conditions that plague you when you enter through the castle at the local mini-golf course. After all, they only give you the 1 ball and you could loose that on the first hole! Stand back, take a deep breath and click your heels 3 times and repeat these words; “I will not loose my ball in the windmill, I will not loose my ball in the windmill, I need to get another ball from the starter.” Wait!! Apparently you are experiencing a crisis of confidence. Maybe like, try the red ball instead of the yellow one? And that’s  assuming you can work up the courage to ask for it when you skulk back to the guy behind the starter window. It’s not like he’s the great and powerful Oz or anything.

Although, once you breeze through the treacherous 18 there at the Castle on the Green with your 1 ball, I would say you’re definitely ready for the actual real deal. You know, an actual golf course? At least once you graduate to the links (as we golf aficionados in the know call it), you can carry as many golf balls as you like. No limit! This means you don’t have to trudge all the way back to the pro shop when you loose your first ball. Actually the sky’s the limit! Imagine that. Really, imagine your ball in flight rather than just rolling around on the ground! Remember, you’re not supposed to use a putter off the tee. More on that later.

Right now, you’re free to thrash your way to an eventual triple-digit score, and it doesn’t matter how many balls you loose! Man, have those mini-golf guys got it wrong! And to think, no windmills, tunnels or concrete right-angle bank shots to overcome! Who knew golf could be so easy? Plus, rather than just the 1 puny putter they dole out at the Castle on the Green, you get to max out your club limit at 14! How easy can this game get?

Just remember, when your foursome inquires about the amount of playing time you’ve logged over the last few years, just tell ‘em that you’ve mastered the game enough to qualify for 10 hours of free time at the pinball machine. I’m sure the respect you’ll engender will be enough to have them overlook the fact that you’re wearing knickers and a beret and that you’re going to dazzle ‘em with those hickory-shafted, rust-plagued irons. All 14 of ‘em.

Now, about teeing off. Don’t let the vast amount of rusty clubs in your bag throw you. In your case, any one of them will do and you should take that as a compliment! What other golfer can say that they are equally proficient with every club in their bag? I mean, in your case they all go the same distance, plus or minus a yard or two. Spot on.

So just get up there and take a good rip at it! And, oh, buy the way, you don’t have to pile up a bunch of dirt to tee your ball on. They now have actual wooden, and sometimes various other space-age materially made tees that you use for that purpose. Sure beats the heck out of rolling your ball out of those time-worn holes on the astroturf mats at the Castle on the Green. Man, technology just keeps getting better and better!

P.S. You might want to try to not be such a fashion emergency with those knickers. Consider blending in a bit. And maybe loose the hat.

Copyright © 2010, William Addison
www.scratchstats.com