Category: Golf

This had to be one of the strangest rounds of golf I've ever played in my life. With so many ups and so many downs, it was truly a bizarre roller coaster ride. What made it even more stressful was that it took place during the qualifying round of an important tournament I've been hoping for months now to be able to play in.

Here's how it went. I start out with a birdie on the first hole and coast on through to the seventh hole at even par. The first disaster of the day strikes with a quadruple bogie eight on number eight (sand, water, drop, over the green, flubbed chip, another flubbed chip, two putt), followed with a birdie on the ninth, resulting in a forty for the front nine.

Just as fantastic as the front nine started, did the back nine begin with a disastrous triple bogie (shanked my second shot into the woods), then a birdie on the eleventh where I coasted at two over par until the par three fifteenth which I nearly four putted but got a five instead. On the seventeenth, I hit my fellow player's provisional ball by accident, making my otherwise great par four null and void, with an added two stroke penalty making it another double bogie. Forty-two on the back giving me an alright score of eighty-two.

Keeping my head in place after those terrible quadruple, triple bogie and two double bogies and recovering like a gold old boy really made my day. Sure, messing up holes during a big qualifying round is no fun, but not letting it get to you and hanging on is an even greater ego-builder. I even surprised my usual choker self, which reminded me that yes even after disaster strikes there's always room to recover, if you shake things off and remain focused.

The greatest news of all is that in the end I qualified for the Rijnmond Open and get to play in this cherished tournament for this weekend.

Summary:
birdie-par-bogie-par-par-par-par-quadruple-birdie = 40
triple-birdie-par-par-par-double-bogie-double-par = 42

My birdie putt on hole 12 just lipped out.

With much pleasure, I played the Gramacho course in Algarve, Portugal three times with half-decent scores of 81, 82 and 84 in the afternoon tropical heat. You would have thought that playing the course more often would have made it easier, but for me it was exactly the opposite.

The greens are often sloped at sharp angles, super fast, with the flag tucked tightly right behind a foreboding bunker, so prepare yourself for difficult chips and many more three-putts than you are used to.

The higher temperature makes the ball fly further, but there's always some unexpected danger around every corner. Bring a couple liters of water with you and rent a golf buggy.

This course offers a challenging variety of holes which do not play too long. However, the smallish greens are treacherous surrounded by huge, deep sand traps which often extend back a hundred yards into the fairway, waiting to engulf even the slightest misjudged shot, of which I found too many.

So there I am ready to tee off on the par four sixteenth hole, trying not to think too hard that I'm playing even par for the day. Since I started playing golf again three years ago, I've never made it this far playing all even for the day.

It's been quite a round until now, and I want so badly to keep up the momentum. Not by forcing it, but by simply letting it just happen. Do my best by concentrating just hard enough without messing things up by doing something stupid. Follow the groove, young man.

I punch a low three iron into the wind down the right side of the fairway, and the ball goes a bit farther right than I would have liked. It's still safe, but the approach shot has to be kept low to avoid the overhanging branches. I choose to execute the classic chip and run. The ball is heading straight for the pin, but it takes a bad bounce to the left, ending up in the bunker. With a nice clean sweep of my trusty sand wedge, the ball skits out of the trap nicely, rolls just past the hole, leaving me a four footer. The balls lips out on the right giving me a bogey five. Darn it, I go one up for the day.

Hole 17, where it all happened.

Alright, just shake it off young man. Two easy holes to go. I've had more than my share of amazing putts and saved pars, the laws of probability are speaking, so just let this bogie go by. Still, I want to play it safe on the seventeenth and pull out my three iron again. It's a short par four, and even if I miss the three iron, I'll still have at least an eight iron to the green.

Then I make a crucial mistake, a bad judgment call, why I do not know, but it here goes ...

I turn to my playing partner and tell him, "You know, I'm not out here to play some mickey mouse game of golf. I'm here to play like a man, be a true hero on these last two holes." He looks impressed, and I do not want to disappoint my biggest fan of the day.

I pull out my driver and I'm feeling strong. I crush the ball, but pull it badly to the left. The ball takes one bounce before disappearing into the high grass. My provisional does the same, maybe ten yards further and bounces twice as far into the high grass. The second provisional flies down the middle of the fairway, way down there. Gasp.

Thank the fairway gods that I'm somehow able to find my first ball. However, it's buried under a thick bush, meaning I must take an unplayable and take a drop. From that position, I can do no more than hit an easy wedge to the right side of the fairway, leaving what I hope will be an easy chip and run to the hole. I duff the ball badly and it barely rolls to the front of the green. I'm left with a very, very long putt to the hole which is way back, uphill and breaks significantly to the right. I smack the ball and it looks right, has enough speed, but rolls too far past the hole. I miss and it's a three putt giving me a triple bogie seven.

Am I falling apart or what? Why does this always happen to me? Thank God that this nightmare hole is over with, let me get on with my life. Miraculously, I pick up my ball out of the hole and feel like I've been recharged, a needed catharsis from pent up energy has made me stronger somehow.

The eighteenth hole is waiting for me. I pull out the three iron again and blast the ball just right of the fairway trap on the left. I'm thinking that if I now put it close to the hole, I can make up for the disastrous previous hole by sinking a birdie. The wedge goes high and bounces just left of the flag, leaving me a five footer for a birdie. The ball fails to break an iota and lips out, meaning that I have to be happy with an honorable par.

The day ends. I can now turn in my scorecard: 37+38=75. Not bad for an almost perfect round. Isn't golf an amazing sport?

Over here they call them brandnetels and this ornery plant is all over the place, mostly along the edges of the fairway where you do not want to be.

You can't help but touching them. If you need to bend down and identify your ball, when taking your practice swing, simply addressing the ball in the midst of the high grass. If you happen to be wearing shorts and inadvertently allow your baby-skinned legs to rub the leaves of this evil green contraption of nature, you'll be sorry.

The stinging sensation is subtle at first and then by the time you reach the green it's burning your skin beyond repair. If you happen to be sweating as well then you might as well forget trying to concentrate for the important putt to save par.

Sitting home enjoying a healthy dinner and reminiscing about a round of golf well done feels good, except for that extreme itchiness and burning sensation on your legs, hands and arms.

Urtica dioica (Latin for I'm burning)

How is it possible that one day you are in the zone playing a stellar round of golf, and then the very next day you are hacking around losing golf balls and end up with a score twelve strokes worse?

Well it doesn't make much sense, but I guess that's why I like to play golf so much. Could this be some form of an acute addiction or an inner need for self abuse?

The task of hitting the ball out of the thick rough should be taken seriously and not be underestimated. The odds of making a disastrous missed swing are significant, and just one hit on what seemed like a relatively easy hole can end up killing your otherwise great score for the day.

The most important thing to realize is that you will most likely lose twenty to thirty yards distance and the accuracy of your shot will widen to a cone of error spanning a large chunk of property where you would prefer not to be.

Also realize that if the grass is growing in the direction of the hole and you just happen to hit the ball perfectly clean, it could even fly out of the tall grass like a rocket ship targeting that body of water way over the green.

I try to minimize error by hitting down onto the ball and thereby avoiding chopping through too much grass. Swing like you need to punch it low through the trees. By mentally preparing yourself for the thick greenness obstructing your swing, make a more powerful follow through without forcing your normal swing too much.

Do it right and you can get a respectable bogie, maybe even getting lucky with a following chip and one putt.

Do it wrong, and accept the resulting punishment of a triple bogie because you topped the ball to the right even deeper into the tall grass or hacked it left into the water.

I guess the really hardest part is to keep calm. Realize your limitations even when you are having a stellar round and start thinking you have acquired supernatural golfing powers and can do anything.

In order to illustrate these concepts better, here follows a true story. These are my actual thoughts:

"Alright, so if I hit it just right and chop through with an open club face the ball will fly through that small opening between the trees, fade just enough to the right and possibly even roll up to the front of the green for a possible birdie putt..."

Then it all happens before I have time to realize it. The next three shots occur in rapid sequence, no thinking involved. Oops, topped the ball. Next shot hits the tree on the right and drops straight down. Third rescue attempt and I shank it into the other fairway. And so on and so on.

On the eighteenth hole, a stellar round is blasted into nothingness by my extreme foolishness and utter disregard of reality. Better luck next time.

When I opened the latest issue of the Golf Weekly magazine, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that our team picture had been printed there.

"Hooge Bergsche Men 3 were the champions in pool H148 (reserve fifth class) and have been promoted. The team is one of the most international in all the competition: composed of 'an Englishman, an American, a Montenegrian, two Dutchmen, a Haguenar and an old colonel'. The names: Guy Skern, Teun Büchner, Bernhard Kordic, Danny Fiere, Boyd de Groot, Kiffin Gish and Lex Haak."

See it for yourself

Such an easy shot and such an unpredictable finish. I'm feeling so excited about the potential birdie to go two under after only four holes. A simple chip shot, a couple bounces, nice run up to the the flag, short putt into the hole.

That's when disaster strikes. The flight of the ball is carrying it straight for that spot on the fringe that I am aiming for, an extra gust of wind, the ball swings wide, and then there is the splash. I can't believe it, that's impossible, I must be dreaming.

But it's true. I look at my partner as if I didn't see it go in, I still can't make sense of the shot, but he affirms my worst fears by telling me, 'Sorry, in the drink."

Just shake it off and drop the ball for the penalty. Address the ball like it were the very first time. Erase the disaster from your mind. Re-visualize that perfect shot you'd planned to execute so smoothly just moments before.

It takes some extra nerve, but I strike the ball pretty much exactly like the first disastrous time. Just a slight extra flick of my right wrist so that the ball will carry the water this time. That cross wind has died down enough, so the aim is truer than before.

A simple chip shot, a couple bounces, nice run up to the the flag, short putt into the hole for a bogie.

Could have been better, but it also could have been alot worse. Accept things as they are and just get on with your life. Next hole, please.

Many if not most of my fellow golfers spend much of their time overly concerned about the technical details of their swing and how they might improve their game by focusing better on certain mechanical aspects.

Enough of this madness about grips, knees bending, hips twisting, follow-throughs extending. This is a thinking man's sport.

My tactic on the other hand is based more on not so much understanding why this or that works as much as how it feels just right or wrong.

I experience the groove when my swing is right, and the clean strike and straight flight of the ball provide me with the necessary positive feedback. My holistic bodily memory is reinforced so that I just know what to strive for the next time.

The moment I start trying to figure things out and concentrate on some defective mechanical motion of mine, that's when my game falls apart. Just get into the zone and stay there by concentrating on the groove.

If I hit a great chip that ends up close to the hole or a drive that duck hooks into the water, I experience the groove or defect in my body rhythm, thereby knowing what to repeat or what to avoid the next time around.

You should be very alert at all times not to play the wrong ball. In my many years of playing golf, this has never happened to me before. That is, not until that fateful moment yesterday while I was on an unbeatable winning streak. Just like that.

This is so easily overlooked, but it can sneak up behind you at the moment you least expect it and bite you real bad. That's what happened to me yesterday and probably caused me to lose my match. Going all square into the last hole, I went one down when my opponent sank a four foot par putt, after I lipped out mine. Damn.

In match play, if you accidentally hit the wrong ball, you lose the hole. In my case, it was not my direct opponent's ball, but the ball of an opponent of another pair two flights ahead of us. He had sliced his ball badly off of the tee and into my fairway, near enough to where I thought my drive had landed going the other way.

I wasn't a complete idiot though. I did bend down and check the ball. Indeed, I saw the Titleist logo, and right next to the number was the red dot I had dabbed carefully on one of the dimples. Only after I had reached the green, marked my ball and then started to clean it, did I notice my grave mistake.

I have no one else to blame but myself. I did check it though, but not 'carefully' enough. It was a Titleist indeed, not my number '2' but a number '3'. Also, the red spot on the dimple was not alone, right next to it (but unfortunately at the time of inspection out of view lying on the lower half of the ball hidden in the grass), were two more similar red spots, forming in total a simple crescent of three spots. Upon realizing my mistake, a felt an awful emptiness in my stomach, but had to confess right away.

Simply said, "Oops, wrong ball. You win." I scraped his marker from the green with the back of my Ping putter and flipped it in the air so that he could catch it. I ran back down the fairway and replaced the ball as best as I could where I had hit it, notifying the person down the other adjacent hole of my stupid mistake.

It was so easily overlooked that I do not feel so much ashamed as more screwed over. Oh well, bad luck. Where was my real ball? Had someone else picked it up by accident? Whatever, I learned my lesson. Fortunately despite my loss, the team as a whole had won. Otherwise I would have felt pretty bad.

I learned my lesson the hard way, so hopefully I'll remember to be extra careful the next time. Make sure that you never make a similar mistake.

The future famous HB3 golf team
De Hoge Bergsche

Danny, Boyd, Lex, Kiffin, Bernard, Teun

For the first time this year, I had a round without double-bogies (but unfortunately no birdies either). That's definitely a good sign.

If my putting wasn't so bad and the greens were in better condition, I could have easily shot in the seventies. Instead, I should be happy with a 40+41=81.

I didn't take many risks and I avoided over-powering my irons, e.g. hitting an easy seven iron instead of slamming an eight, which is my usual strategy.

On one particularly easy par three, my ball just cleared the water, bounced onto the fringe, and spun back into the drink. Nice effect, lousy result.

Half of the ball was exposed above the water, and my fellow players were rooting for me to go for it, more interested in seeing me splash mud all over my clothes and face, so they could joke about it on the nineteenth hole.

Although slightly pumped up because of a streak of pars, I took the drop (what a wimp, they kept taunting me), chipped just past the pin, and then sank the one footer for a four.

Nice save.

My handicap dropped back down to 11. Just two more notches and I reach my most important goal for this year: to be a single digit handicapper again.

That's been more than thirty years. Can't wait.

Putting the ball half-decently and avoiding three-putts is an art in itself, not easy and very frustrating.

Let's not try and complicate things too much and just focus on the three most important concepts for me in the coming days which are:

• Grip the putter as lightly as possible without letting it drop
• Let the putter swing back and forth like a pendulum
• Have faith in gravity's pull and allow the head to strike the ball naturally

I'm very curious how these will improve my score or not, we'll see.

I had a pretty good score today (41+42=83), but I keep duffing my chips pretty badly. Could have easily shaved off 3-4 shots and broken 80 with little effort.

In order to break this habit I'm going to have to concentrate better on the following simple seven step procedure.

• Address the ball with both of my feet together with the ball located in the exact center.
• Separate my feet to shoulder width keeping the ball centered.
• Take several practice swings letting the turn of my body sway my passive hands back and forth like a pendulum.
• While taking these practice swings, visualize the ball trajectory rising into the air and listen to the ball land softly on the green close to the pin.
• Repeat these practice swings until two in a row feel just right.
• Step up to the ball, waggle and then just hit the bugger at the hole.
• Watch the ball trajectory rise into the air and hear the ball land softly on the green close to the pin.

For effectiveness this should not take longer than twenty to thirty seconds between the moment I take my stance to the moment of ball impact.

Playing golf while it's pouring down rain isn't that fun unless like me you get an extra kick from the increased difficulty of a wet grip, chips that die in puddles, and divots which splash in your face.

Just when you're about ready to give up, the skies clear and you are given a message from one of the golfing gods.

It is a beautiful rainbow off in the distance showing you where the next hole is. You whisper to yourself how much fun it would be to make a birdie under that multi-colored arch of light, and you're off to make it happen.

During the very start of the backswing, it is the initial shift of the body to the right side that defines whether or not the resulting downswing and eventual follow through are executed correctly.

It's a carefully intermixed chain of actions and reactions.

Moving back slowly but not too slowly, just before the body turns at the waist and the club is lifted back in a wide arc, the weight should be slanted slightly over to the right foot so that the recoil of the downswing delivers sufficient power to the ball.

It's a question of good balance, transfer of body energy at the right moment, and of course perfect timing.

Everyone has their favorite type of golf shot, and when you successfully execute this difficult shot, it gives you the most satisfying feeling imaginable. It's a rare shot and happens only once a month or a year.

Depending on your personality, you might jump up and down and shout with glee, take off your cap and fling it into the air. Or you might hold in the excitement and feel energized by walking tall as you follow the shot before the ball comes to rest, just knowing.

My favorite shot is a long four or three iron approach to the green, flying low and strong directly into the wind. The ball will rise ever so slightly but remain low enough that the head winds are ineffectual in holding back the powerful white flying arrow. It's a battle of wits, but you know that the ball is going to win hands down.

I have my own way of expressing the excitement that follows. Release the energy ever so slightly by spewing out a muffled yes, make a fist and pump back my arm, watching the descending arch in perfect line with the flag stick. Right down the smoke stack, and it is the movement of my eyes that have complete control over the ball, forcing it to follow the pre-defined path.

The first bounce hits the front of the green, skips about ten feet, and the back spin grabs the surface just right, so that the ball stops dead in its tracks for an easy birdie putt.

"The true (golf) pilgrim wanders off to the outlying, the more humble and obscure courses. For it is on those unsung courses, on a damp morning in April or a blustery afternoon towards the end of October, that you may look around at your friends, the pulsing light on the grey sea, the undulating fairway, the club in your still singing hands and the distant green, and know yourself in earthly heaven..."

Preferred Lies, A journey to the Heart of Golf
- Andrew Greig.

That's why within the month I'm planning a spiritual golfing trip to Scotland so that I can play Shiskine, Gigha, Prestwick and other fine courses in the area. Even if it means getting wet and having to play under gale-force conditions.

The front nine was quite a display of supernaturally and (almost) perfectly consistent golfing gusto:

Par, par, par, par, par, double-bogey (oops), par, par, par = 38.

How did I manage keeping my cool after I choked the sixth hole? Hungry for the easy five foot birdie on the sixth to go one under, I rammed the sucker way past the hole and ended up four putting for a double-bogie. How was this possible?

Though I was boiling up inside and feeling very embarrassed at the same time, I laughed it off and remembered Hogan's insightful adage: "always treat the next hole like it is the first one of the day." This gave me strength and energized me with adrenalin, easily adding fifty yards to my next tee shot.

What a great relief it is for me to discover that I still have those secret powers inside of me.

The cool, windy and grayish afternoon calls me onward. It's drizzling on my windshield but I do not care. I'm happy it's only raining, relieved that all the snow has disappeared for good.

When I turn into the main entrance I can see that the flag has been replaced to its natural spot on the seventeenth hole. No more winter greens! The car speeds up and I'm barreling up the hill to the clubhouse.

Winter greens are temporary roundish areas placed out somewhere in the fairway to allow the real greens relief from sub-freezing temperatures and excessive snow, making the holes significantly shorter but disproportionally more difficult. The new hole is slightly larger, and the putting surface area (2-3 meter radius) around it is very bumpy and as hard as concrete. No matter how good you are, your putts roll and bounce every which way. About 20% skill and 80% luck, so balls ending up within a club length are good.

This is the first day in three months that the winter greens are gone. The girl at the reception says that I can tee off in five minutes. I feel like bending over the counter and giving her a big kiss. I grab my bag of clubs and dash out to the first tee. The breath of fresh air gives me extra energy and inspiration. My drive with the three wood is a magnificent shot, down the middle of the fairway and a slight fade, on a hole which I normally flub up my pulling my ball into the left trees.

Nine holes were enough excitement for the day, no use over doing it. The afternoon was getting late and it was becoming slightly dark. Driving home, I went over every single shot in my mind, thinking up my strategy for the following tee time which would be tomorrow at twelve o'clock.

I nearly cried my eyes out when I discovered that young Tommy Morris dies in the prime of his life, three time winner of the Open Championship and Champion of Scotland, the first modern professional golfer, only twenty-four years old.

In the middle of an important golf match he receives a telegram, and he rushes home by ship. But is too late, his young wife and newborn baby were dead from childbirth. The Young Tom becomes so broken-hearted that he dies four months later on Christmas Day.

I realized that I was nearing the end of "Tommy's Honour" by Kevin Cook and at the back of my mind wondered why. Could there be a sequel out there that I hadn't heard about? I'd go out and buy the book right away.

But alas, this was not to be. I'll have to go to St. Andrews someday and pay him tribute in person by visiting his grave.

Of course, after eighteen holes of golf first.

Within a couple years after his near fatal car accident, Ben Hogan made an amazing comeback by winning the Open Championship at Merion in 1950 (USGA Journal article).

So what am I complaining about with my sore shoulder, what a sham compared to the painful obstacles Ben Hogan had to overcome.

This was truly one of the most memorable moments in the history of golf and truly an inspiration for me.

Go out there and practice alot so that by the end of the year your handicap hits the single digit realm.

The famous golfer Ben Hogan used to say, "The more I practice the luckier I get."

He used to train himself hours on end and hit thousands of balls until his hands blistered and bled, feeling that this was the only true road to golfing perfection.

Lucky for him that he already had developed the right mind, which is most of the work.

That's really weird, it started raining and all of a sudden all of the snow which has been lying around for weeks on end completely disappeared, just like that. Driving in the car with the sun blaring in through the windshield, it almost felt like Spring was coming. I thought great, now I can finally play golf again. So I rush on over to the golf course, but it's closed! The melted snow had flooded most of the greens and fairways, making it unplayable and slushy. Darn it all, better luck next time.

Today I was pleasantly surprised to discover how much "just knowing" that you are gripping the club correctly can improve your confidence. Without changing a thing, I was striking the ball consistently, and except for an occasional draw, I was hitting the ball high and pretty straight.

Worrying that my grip was one of my weaknesses, I've been playing around with variations for about a year without much success. In fact, each new change made things worse and worse. The more I practiced the worse I got. Each new grip made my arms feel like they were bending and extending in an unnatural way.

I've always had a "strong" grip, meaning that my left hand is turned inwards (clockwise) so that the V between my forefinger and thumb points to somewhere between my nose and right eye. The left thumb presses slightly on the side of the grip opposite to the target, and the right hand barely does anything but follow.

During my younger days, the fashion was to adhere to a "neutral" grip where both hands are clapped together at right angles to the target line and grip the club at that position. The left thumb is aligned along the length of the club shaft with the right hand folding right on top with the right thumb also lying along the top of the grip.

(Even in Ben Hogan's book "Five Lessons" the "neutral" grip is taught and the V of the right hand should point to the chin.)

I'm now reading the book "Swing Like a Pro" by Dr. Mann, which is based on years of scientific analyses of the best professional golfers. It presents a bio-mechanical approach to golf, where a model swing is individualized and applied.

In the second chapter of this book, I was pleasantly surprised to read that my natural grip, the one I was born with and used as a kid until I took official lessons, matches closely to the ideal grip as explained in this chapter. The V of the right hand points to the right shoulder.

So I do not have to change anything about my grip (actually, that V of my left hand should be pointing slightly more in the direction of my right ear). Just grab the club naturally with my hands and that's it. Not only does this grip feel the best, just knowing that it is a good grip makes me confident. I am more mentally prepared when I take my stance and address the ball. My arms swing freely and are not obstructed by a grip which feels foreign to me.

Next fundamental is my stance which will be covered in the next chapter.

I just finished the book "Dream On" by John Richardson. It's about this golfing hacker pursuing his goal of shooting an even par score within a year. It was so good, so inspiring, that I read the whole thing in only two sittings.

Impossible challenges are good for us. We acquire more confidence in ourselves, not so much in that the impossible goal is actually achieved, but simply in the fact that we can mobilize ourselves mentally and physically in difficult situations we never before realized we were capable of doing.

The book also includes many interesting tips on how to improve your golf game. It's not only alot of practice, but also assuming a new 100% way of life centered around golf. A sense of mental acumen is the frosting on the cake, and nothing can beat the feeling of exhilaration when it all comes together. That's what makes golf so very interesting to me, the intricate balance between the physical and the mental, trying to make sense of the many obstacles nature puts in our way.

One of the most interesting parts of the book involves feeling confident but not overly so. The moments he is feeling really great and imagines he's finally going to pull it off, those are the moments he messes up badly. With only a few holes to go and then knocking two balls into the trees. At the other extreme, feeling nervous and unsure about yourself is also not good. By the end of the book, the author has attained a higher level of awareness where it "just happens" without him even thinking about it. A fairy tale come true, but only after a year of total immersion, dedication and hard work.

Self-improvement is human nature and we need the challenge in one way or the other in order to survive.

The weatherman tells us that it's going to be below freezing, but I will be getting up early anyway to hit the links. Now that I've got my golf winter gloves, four layers of clothing, a woolen cap and a wind breaker for good measure, nothing's going to stop me now.

Scratch to Scratch - John Richardson

For the first time in my life, I went into the pro shop and bought a pair of golf winter gloves. Now that the daily temperatures have dropped down to freezing, my normal golf glove doesn't quite do the trick. I must be totally addicted to golf to want to force myself to swat the ball in such an unforgiving climate.

Being the golf enthusiast that I am, I challenged myself to a late afternoon nine holes in this freezing cold weather. A good pair of warm gloves is absolutely required, otherwise one loses complete feeling in the hands which is disastrous for the old golf game.

Playing in colder weather has some additional disadvantages that need to be taken into account, namely that the golf ball will not travel as far. Takes about two clubs extra to reach the target, assuming that the ball is hit squarely and true.

However, hitting the ball well is more difficult because it is lying on soft, muddy ground and the icy wind is trying to blow you off balance. So make it three clubs extra, but swing easier so that the chances of hitting the ball cleanly are increased. Poor concentration will result in your face being splattered with mud particles or painfully vibrating hands from hitting the ball way too thin.

Considering the circumstances, the early coming of darkness and the dropping temperature, I played alright I guess. My left big toe is still pretty frozen and hasn't yet thawed out.

Next Wednesday morning early I'll be out there again daring the winter weather in its face with an amazing shot here and there. Undaunted and persevering, I believe that practicing under such unattractive conditions will in the long run improve my game by strengthening my confidence. Knowing that I've braved new and unexpected mishaps and survived the round, becoming wiser and more appreciative of nature's many whims.

There are very few accomplishments more thrilling than having the best three shots of the round on the final par four eighteenth hole.

First you nail a drive down the middle of the fairway. Second you strike a nine iron high into the sky letting the ball fall nicely on the elevated green and right down the smokestack. Third you tap the two foot putt confidently in the middle of the hole for a birdie.

Enjoy the feeling today while it lasts and remain confident that no matter how old you are the magic of youth is still inside of you, ready to be unlocked at any moment by the right thoughts at the right time.

Smashing evening golf balls at the driving range when it is dark is a strange experience which takes some time to get used to.

Although the first one hundred yards or so is illuminating alright, the distance to the targets is hard if not impossible to calculate. A simple pitching wedge flies the nearest flag and makes you feel like you've acquired supernatural abilities.

Aiming for the 250 meter marker is another interesting challenge. The ball disappears, and then there is a pause. Either you hear nothing, or if you are lucky there is a delayed bang which resonates through the night and makes you feel good.

The golfing range I hit balls at has two levels. I'm usually on the lower tier because I prefer practicing at the same level that is more natural for golfing.

An interesting effect is the hitting of golf balls by others who are standing above you on the second tier. You cannot hear the balls being hit, but watching all them little specks looks like this blasting of little white snowflakes into the distant night.

Tiger is not perfect because he is also human, what a surprise. Nor should he be blamed for the fantasy world, the goddess of a wife and the sham of a marriage society has forced upon him. If we insist that he is failing, then it is we who are all to blame, not him.

Fifty percent of the marriages nowadays fail anyway, so there is nothing new. If you are a celebrity then that percentage is much higher. Why is that so? Yet another forced marriage bites the dust, but life continue nonetheless.

We gawk and we gossip and we feel better about ourselves when we don't have to look at our own lives and can worship heroes instead. We soak up the vicarious thrills of their challenges and successes. We are hypocrites when that large chunk of our own missing selves is put on the shoulders of those so-called perfect heroes.

Failure is part of the game and happens once in awhile. Leave Tiger alone and get on with your own lives.

Tiger, Elin, And A Five Iron: Yawn

This time of year it is often a race against the clock getting in those last couple of holes before it gets too dark. But what can you do if the darkness is approaching too quickly, and on the ninth hole you are staring down a fairway that you can barely see?

Tee shot from the ninth.

What I try and do is place the ball farther up in my stance, thereby hitting the ball higher so that it appears as a black spot against the sunset sky, arching up and then downwards. This partial segment of the trajectory can be used to extrapolate the rest of the downward arch, providing one with a rough estimate of the location of the landing path. A good ear comes in handy, the distant thump or the crashing of leaves and branches giving a more accurate indication of where best to look for the ball.

After a half decent drive down the right side of the fairway, I hit my approach shot in the general direction of the ninth hole. I hear the familiar sound of the golf ball hitting the surface of the green with a confident thud. Didn't see it fly off of my nine iron, didn't see it come down, but I can imagine perfectly well where the ball has stopped rolling. Time for a daring eagle-eye birdie putt just as the final rays of sunlight disappear altogether.

Watch the ball arch across the sunset sky of the tee shot, hear that suggestive thud of the approach shot, and then the long and winding putt dropping into the cup.

I never realized how much a difference new spikes for my golf shoes would make. Not that my game has improved the slightest bit (darn), but just the idea that these brand-new objects are adorning the bottom of my shoes makes me feel better for some reason.

To be fair, they do make me feel like I am slightly taller and my stance seems steadier when I swing the club on soft ground, but then again I could just be imagining that.

In the olden days we actually had metal spikes and they made this fantastic scraping sound when you walked across the parking lot or on the paved pathways.

Now spikes are made of this durable plastic which isn't as nice, but I guess it damages the greens and indoor carpets much less. I'm wearing Nike spikes, wow!

What a pleasant surprise it was to hear from the team captain that I had qualified for the HB3 golf team sponsored by my country club.

This is as good an excuse as any to get real serious and spend more time honing my golf skills, both physical as well as mental (no more procrastinating young man).

My physical game could do with some minor tweaking here and there as my swing etc. is alright in general. However, it is certainly my fragile attitude which requires some serious improvements, e.g. not getting all shook up and disappointed when I shoot a double-bogie, continuing full-speed ahead for the rest of the round as if nothing happened.

Starting now we have much practicing to do in preparation for the important tournaments next year April. Playing more serious golf will help me achieve my next golfing goal which is to acquire a single digit handicap by the end o next year. Go for it.

Here is the dilemma. Outside it is drizzling down rain pretty hard, and the ground is soaked and muddy. I could go out and play golf. However, grovelling all afternoon in the blubbery rough looking for my balls and never finding them would make be regret my decision. This inner feeling is growing and becoming an impassioned urge, a very familiar intoxication. I've got to play golf today or else.

So how does one deal with such urgent situations? My gut-feeling says yes who cares and the common sense of nature says no you better not. How does one day make a tiny difference anyway?

Tomorrow they predict better weather, so we can wait. (Since when have they ever been able to predict the weather accurately here?) At the same time, it is slowly and surely becoming cooler as winter approaches, soon it will be bitter cold. During those winter months, I will not be able to play at all, or be forced to play the shortened holes with their roundish winter greens with my thick gloves on.

Get out there and make a difference. Hey, I need to make the best of it while I can.

As a not unrealistic compromise I'll stay home today, do my mental golfing meditations (improving my swing at a higher plain of consciousness). I can pick up one of my books about golfing, I've purchased a pile of maybe fifteen books that I still haven't touched.

I've finally made my mind, just stay home for the day, a difficult decision to say the least. I feel much better now. But looking out the window, I see that the sun is slowly appearing from behind the darkish clouds, and that drizzle has become very slight indeed.

Too late, I've already promised to lend my car to my son and daughter. That way they won't have to bicycle to work in the pouring down rain. Such a nice sacrifice on my part: golf versus family, and family wins.

After struggling for quite some months with my back problems, I finally decided to become a wimp and stop carrying my golf bag around the course. So for my birthday I received a fancy Bag-Boy push cart and a big black-and-red Cobra golf bag. This was my wife's idea not mine, so don't accuse me of being greedy.

I've always prided myself with being able to lug a full bag of clubs around for eighteen holes, unlike all of the other losers who used push/pull carts. The extra exercise also gave me a kick, climbing up and down the hill toning my sexy leg muscles. I had a good sweat and a nice workout at the same time.

That is until two problems popped up, each related to the other. First my back, which after a round of golf would ache badly for the following day or two. Second, my golf game was notorious for always failing me badly on the final few holes, as if my energy reserves were suddenly depleted and I could not strike the ball worth beans.

So here I am with a nice fancy bag and push cart. This will certainly take some getting used to. At first I felt kind of embarrassed, worried about all kinds of snide comments from my fellow golfers, but not a single smirk or joke from anyone. I stood there right next to the eighteenth hole talking to a couple of late afternoon finishers, and no one even noticed!

One big improvement asides from the lessened weight on wheels is the extra pocket space. There's so much space in there I don't know how to fill it. I can even put twenty golf balls in the front pocket and it's not even half full.

Next week Wednesday morning at 8:52 I will finally be able to officially put my fancy new golfing attributes to the test. Let's see if my game is affected or not.

What an exciting afternoon it was. I was six under par for the round with not a single three putt. Pretty amazing.

Well, at least that was on the practice putting green, but it is still a pretty good accomplishment which took me an hour and a half to achieve.

During golf practice I try to be creative and make up challenges in order to improve my game. One such challenge takes place on the putting green and goes like this:

• Start somewhere random on the putting green with your three luckiest golf balls.
• Choose one practise hole, either in the clockwise or the counter-clockwise direction, and putt the three balls in the hole.
• This is your starting and finishing hole. You will be playing all the holes keeping along the perimeter of the green as much as possible.
• The goal is to make it once around the perimeter, playing each hole in order until the finishing hole.
• You must putt every single ball no matter how close it is to the hole, no gimmies.
• If you three putt then you have to start all over again.
• If the ball goes off of the green, e.g. onto the fringe or further, you also have to start all over again.
• When starting over, if you are more than two holes away, you may optionally putt back to the starting hole. Sink this long putt, and you do not have to start over. Simply continue playing where you left off (after you gleefully walk to the hole, grab the ball out, and return). However, if you three putt any of the balls (making it two three putts in a row), you cannot begin until you have putted back and forth between the same two holes without a single three putt.
• The rules above are repeated until one circuit around the perimeter of the green is completed, of course trying to get the lowest score possible.
• An ace is counted as one under (a birdie) and a two is considered a par. A three putt, just as in real life, is a big bad no-no for which you are severely punished.

So far my record is six under which I tied today. This I was able to achieve despite the fact that it was raining down pretty hard, rain drops falling from the visor of my cap and all of those grass blades clogging up my putter.

First it's pouring down rain. Then it stops for awhile.

After about thirty minutes it starts raining again. This time much harder. Then after ten minutes it clears up again.

Right when I grab my clubs and open the garage door, it starts pouring down rain again.

No golf for me today. Mother nature is playing around with my mind.

I'll just have to figure out something else to do.

Lots of leaves keep getting in the way.

So how am I going to manage this interesting putt? Not only is it way uphill, but I've also got to putt the ball through all of these leaves. I have a good look above the hole, walk down to the ball, and then I kneel down to get a better angle from behind the ball.

I could spend time sweeping away all of the leaves in my path, but that has turned out to be an impossible task. You see, the wind is blowing strongly enough.

Each time I brush my path clean, the wind kicks up and brings more leaves to replace those I've removed. In fact, just my simple act of trying to clean my path of leaves makes nature mock me in the face. She's challenging me purposely by filling it up with more and more leaves.

Alright. I've got the distance down right. I feel confident that the ball is going to break about seven inches to the left. Uphill so I've got to hit it harder, but not too hard.

I give the ball a good whack. The putter hits clean, and I barely feel the ball making impact. There it is, off and rolling on its sweet journey to the hole.

A direct hit on the first leave and there's only a slight diversion. A second larger leaf gets blasted and the velocity of the ball is halved. As if that is not bad enough, as the ball curls to the left, another smaller more pointed leaf gets nicked, causing the ball to ricochet at right angles to the right.

I've got another five feet to the hole. The wind picks up in my face, making sure that I do not forget who is the boss.

I ended up three putting that hole. For a bogie. I could have gotten more angry than I did, but that would not have accomplished anything. As Ben Hogan always said, treat the next hole like it's the very first hole of your day.

Man versus nature, and more often than not it is nature who wins.

Par, par, par, par, par, par, triple bogie, triple bogie, par for a forty two.

One thing that has been plaguing my golf game all year is an acute case of inconsistency. As revealed in the previous series of scores, it can be quite frustrating when a pretty good nine holes is blasted into oblivion by two measly mess ups.

In general, I play alright shooting pars, bogies, and an occasional birdie for good measure.

However, at least once or twice and sometimes even more often, I choke badly on a given hole. In the water, between the trees, buried in the bunker.

At least if I happen to mess up one hole, it'd sure be nice to recover gracefully and continue my streak of pars and bogies as if nothing happened.

So what gives?

They claim that golf is more of a mental game than physical, so that's the area I'm going to have to improve during these winter months. When it's too cold or stormy to play golf, I'll have to meditate indoors and read books about golf (I have a pile of unread golf books about a meter high).

The great Ben Hogan always said to treat the next hole as if it were the very first hole of the day.

All of a sudden I've acquired additional yardage to my shots. My 3 wood is flying past where my driver used to go. My wedge is easily flying as far as my eight iron.

This is good and bad. Good in the sense that my balls off the par five tees are landing within hitting distance of the green. Bad in that a simple chip shot to the par threes is flying way over the green.

So where did this added distance come from? I do not hit the ball any harder, in fact I believe that my swing has actually become smoother and less hurried.

It's all in the timing. The feel of the ball flying off of the club face during the perfect swing feels invigorating.

That is, as long as I aim properly and the balls I hit fly true.

Sometimes you just want to go out to the driving range and do nothing else but whack the balls as hard as you can.

Do not bother to take any practice swings in between those mighty hits, and whatever you do, make sure that you avoid thinking about what you are doing, how well or badly you are hitting the balls.

Perhaps this is not the best way to improve your game, but it sure makes you feel alot better, ramming through a number of buckets of balls. The little white balls are flying all over the place, and more often than not their trajectories are taking them on a very straight line landing many miles away.

Who knows, you might be improving your game without even realizing it, and having loads of fun while you are at it.

No matter how good such a round of bashing balls makes you feel, I do not recommend trying this on the golf course.

I think that I've finally solved my problem of always pulling the ball to the left, sometimes even duck hooking it.

The so-called solution seems easy enough: stand with the ball slightly further back, take a slow back swing slightly touching the grass as long as possible, and hit more down onto the ball without forgetting to follow through high and towards the target.

After hitting several buckets of balls practicing this technique, I noticed that in addition to hitting the ball straighter, I gained more distance when I turned more with my torso during the back swing without exaggerating the movement too much.

Doing this consistently is not easy, but that's where a strong and confident mind comes into play.

This morning early, I started out with a birdie, par, par, par. I'd built up a fine feeling that today was my day and there was nothing out there that could stop me.

Until at least the endless waves of slow-pokes ahead of me kept blocking my way and making me wait. They just wouldn't let me through, which got me feeling more and more frustrated. There's nothing worse for a good streak than having it abruptly stopped by a foursome of old men looking for balls.

So I asked if I could pass and the guy that looked like the leader of the slow-pokes gave me a frown. After a slight pause of having to think it over, he grumbled as if I'd been impolite: sure you can pass us.

I nailed my drive but struck some branches above them without yelling fore.

Since it was early morning, the sun was glaring in my eyes and I couldn't see where the ball has going. It felt like I smacked the ball pretty good, so that's why I was surprised when I heard the crackling of wood, and saw the branches and leaves falling on top of those poor sods. The ball must have faded more than I had reckoned it would.

The four poor folks scrambling in all directions like they were under some kind of artillery attack.

That's when I felt like just forgetting it all and I quit for the day. I'd have to repeat my amazing performance another day.

I learned a couple of valuable lessons: start before eight if you want to beat the crowd, and when in doubt always yell fore.

They say that practice makes perfect. However, the more golf I practice the worse I get.

At the beginning of the year after a long cold winter break from golf, I took out the old clubs and hit the links. I couldn't believe how well I hit the ball back then and golf was fun and relaxing.

Now after nearly a half golf season behind me, my game sucks and my handicap is slowly rising. Golf is getting frustrating and it has become stressful and not fun at all. I keep practicing but that does not help.

What makes it extra frustrating is the fact that I used to be really good and it's hard to accept that unless some miracle happens I will never be that good again. Or not?

I could just quit but I won't. Golf is all mental anyway, illogical and addictive.

This morning I had the perfect birdie. There was not the slightest hesitation in my mind. Three shots in a row, each one straight at the flag.

My drive was a real screamer down the left side of the fairway. The ball easily cleared the sand trap and hit the down slope which meant an extra thirty yards easy.

The pitching wedge swept the surface of the grass and made solid contact with the ball launching it with a nice arch right down the smoke stack.

Finally while the short putt was not quite a gimme I scoped the lie from behind the pin and then to the side before giving the ball a nice run to the middle of the cup.

The birdie sounded real sweet when the ball hit the bottom of the cup.

Looks like we've got some ideal golfing weather ahead, and I'm definitely going to take advantage of this fantastic stroke of luck.

Here's my golfing schedule: tomorrow early shotgun with the oldies, Friday afternoon practice round by myself, Saturday morning 1st round club stroke play championship, Saturday afternoon golf lessons, and Sunday if I qualify 2nd round club play championship.

The clubs have been cleaned and polished and I'm ready to have a fun and relaxing time.

The problem with offering your opponent advice on the golf course is that if it helps then he beats you out of a couple more bucks and if it doesn't help then he can blame his lousy score on your poor suggestions.

I also am superstitious in that giving an outsider part of your good advice energy will only deplete your own magical skills a little bit more.

So I told my opponent on the back nine that according to me he was hitting the ball inconsistently because he was swaying too much front to back and should concentrate on taking a wider stance and keeping his balance.

That's when he drilled his tee shot right down the middle of the fairway and I sliced my ball badly out of bounds.

Fortunately this time around we weren't playing for money.

Let's just say that after such a lousy approach shot, I deserved it and should have seen it coming. My six iron off the tee was hit nicely but caught the tree next to the water hazard when it landed.

Searching for my ball in all that high grass, I wasn't looking very carefully. That's when my right foot came down on a fluff of green which hovered above the water, and unlike the rest of the grass I was standing on, had no solid ground supporting it underneath.

Good old gravity took over. The edge of the pond was steeper than I expected. Without a moment's notice I slid straight down into the pond, plunging down into the water at an eighty degree angle, the surface of the reeking pond right up to my waist.

Bad enough was getting soaking wet, but even worse was the black sludge and muck which filled my shoes and pants up to my knees. I was pulled out of the mud by my concerned opponent who reached out with his wedge so I could grab it and pull myself out of the suction.

Taking off my pants, shoes and soaks and wringing them out as best I could before putting them back on felt only slightly better but did not help the rest of my game.

For the remaining holes my game suffered tremendously. Try for yourself to swing a golf club when your pants and shoes are sopping wet. It's like trying to twist your body when enclosed by tight layer of cellophane which refuses to give in.

Better luck next week.

"Well the most important thing in the golf swing to me is the movement of the lower body from the top of the swing. And if you don't mind I'll demonstrate. First off, you start down below with your knees and your hips. At the top of the swing, you move the lower part of your body, not your shoulders, the lower part of your body, letting your arms and hands follow, bring you into position to hit. This is the first movement... there (swish)... then you release at the bottom. Most people do it entirely opposite. They rotate their shoulders first instead of their lower body. As a result they come across the ball and hit the outside of the ball instead of the back of it. If you don't mind, I'll hit a ball... and the first thing to watch is what starts first from the top of the swing."

Ben Hogan bends down and gently places the ball on the tee. In slow motion his perfect swing comes down and strikes the ball with amazing precision, launching the ball forward right down the middle of the fairway, his follow through coming through high and mighty.

Some videos:

• Ben Hogan Golf Swing
• Ben Hogan Slow Motion Swing

Ben Hogan is widely acknowledged to have been the greatest ball striker ever to have played golf. In his career lasting from 1938 to 1959, Ben Hogan had 64 PGA Tour wins and won 9 Major tournaments. He became just the second player, after Gene Sarazen, to win all four of the modern major championships. In 1953 he won the British Open Championship, the only time he played the event.

I'm completely battered and bruised after one of lousiest rounds of golf yesterday.

The round started out just fine with a series of pars and bogies until the eighth where a massive drive went too far and landed in the bunker that no one should be able to reach in one shot. The ball lay just under the front lip, but I became greedy and thought I could hammer a good seven iron to the green. Of course, when I hit it the ball nicked the lip and skirted off to the right into the water hazard. I dropped my penalty shot and shanked the next one into the same water just a couple yards from the previous splash. Then I hacked an eight iron to the left of the green, chipped short and two putted for an amazing nine.

It didn't end there.

On the most difficult hole of the courser, which is a narrow par five dogleg to the left, I sliced my tee shot out of bounds. I topped my second shot and it rolled into the trees on the left. I attempted a low four iron through the trees, but of course hit the tree bulls-eye right in front of me and the ball bounced straight downwards between two thick roots. I hit another low four iron and this time it flew perfectly through the trees but hit the sand trap rake coming down and ricocheted into the sand. I caught the sand shot thinly and the ball flew over the green onto the cart path. To make a painful long story short, I ended up with a nine there also.

I felt like giving up golf altogether and either tossing my clubs into the nearby lake or giving them away to someone more deserving of this fine game than I. I felt like taking my clubs one by one and breaking the shafts across my knee. I felt like taking all of my golf balls and putting a torch to them. I felt like taking my favorite putter and wedging it into the side of my head.

However, after a good night of sleep has saved me again. The itch is coming back good and strong and the spirit of golf is consuming me again. Meaning that I'm going to give golf one more try this afternoon, just in case. Am I insane? Did that knock to my head with my favorite putter cause some kind of permanent damage? Can I afford losing so many balls again? What kind of addiction is this that hurts you so bad, completely destroys your sense of good worth, and then makes you keep coming back for more?

The sweet game of golf.

Take for instance the third hole which is a short dogleg left par four downhill and a measly 275 meters long. This hole is enticingly short but very unpredictable if you happen to miss the middle of the fairway by more than ten meters.

With wind at my back I grabbed a four iron and hit a most perfect shot high into the air. The ball came down with a slight draw, barely clearing the left-hand fairway bunker, and took a mighty downhill bounce, rolling to within three meters of the green.

The flag was at the front, so this would mean an easy birdie. All I had to do was make a short chip over the bunker in front of the green letting the ball roll up to the hole. I was feeling pretty cocky (my biggest mistake).

This is what I did. Chipped fat into the sand trap. Shanked the ball out of the trap over the green to the right. Flubbed another chip barely onto the green. The putt made it barely halfway to the hole. Amazingly I made the longish put to save a grand six. Could not believe it but kept my cool.

Summary of this most painful hole: the first shot went to within fifteen feet of the flag, and then it took me five more shots to finish off in the hole.

One shot of 270 meters, and then the remaining 5 meters took me five shots, making it a lousy and very embarrassing double-bogey.

Yes, anything can happen in this game called golf, and that's why it remains for me a fantastic and challenging sport. So much of it is mental, no matter how fantastic you hit the ball.

I need to concentrate on rotating better from the waist and not use my arms so much.

Since it was raining this afternoon, I decided just to hit a couple buckets of balls and try out a few slight variations on my swing.

Thinking "relax the arms and rotate the waist" was the perfect combination that helped me hit the ball sweeter and farther.

There are a million and one things about the golf swing that can and will go wrong if you try to think of them all at the same time.

Keep your head down or follow through or don't fall back or stand firmly on your feet or hold your head absolutely motionless over the ball or slow down your swing or imagine throwing your club at the flag or stand farther from the ball or stand closer to the ball or do the waggle twice when addressing the ball or keep your left arm straight or whatever.

Never ever try to remember more than one or at most two tips when trying to hit the ball at the same time.

My golf instructor insists that I swing more from the trunk and keep the club blade perpendicular to the flag on follow through by holding my finish high in the air. Unfortunately over the previous year I've developed the bad habit of swinging from my wrists, limiting my follow through and yanking the ball to the left. This awkward movement has become so ingrained that it's going to take alot of effort and exercise to get rid out of my system.

Awhile ago I had a terrible case of the shanks. Lately things have been going better, although deep inside I still entertain a very subtle fear that it will bite me again.

This means that my rotation axis has shifted somewhat in compensation and I therefore pull many of my shots to the left. This is mostly the case for my medium and short irons, which were exactly the clubs with which I had earlier been plagued with an acute case of shanks.

My latest strategy is to take extra time lining up my stance better, reaching out to the ball more, and following through with a high finish.

There's no better start on a beautiful sunny afternoon than having a birdie on the very first hole.

Unfortunately, I choked real bad on the second hole by attempting to cut the corner too closely on my approach shot, thereby barely nicking a tree branch (just barely) and then three putting.

The remaining seven holes were pretty average, although I must admit I was really smashing them drives way out there into the distance.

On the eighth hole, I landed my drive in the creek (too far), took a penalty drop, pulled an eight iron to the left and then chipped the ball in for an amazing par four.

Birdie, double-bogie (3-putt), par, par, bogie, par, bogie, par, bogie (3-putt) equals forty.

I need to practice more and get my game down more consistently, focusing on my short game.

My first official day out on the golf course meant that I could play the back side. Not a bad nine holes, but the highlight came on the par four sixteenth. Fired a four iron straight as an arrow down the middle of the fairway. Hit cleanly a magical six iron that had a slight draw, barely cleared the front trap and finally bounced just off the left edge of the green. Tapped a six footer slightly to the right and it curved nicely right into the hole. My first birdie this year.

Today I managed to hit three buckets of balls without a single shank. One shot came kind of close and it went slightly to the right, but nothing near to the terrible shots I've been making the previous few days. Looks like I've finally shaken the shanks out of my system. In the meantime I will be keeping my fingers crossed.

Fix the Golf Shanks

Finally after a long cold winter the climate has improved enough for me to head out to the golf course.

As expected, my golf swing was a little rusty but I could make pretty good contact with the ball.

I did have the tendency to pull the ball to the left and whenever I try to correct this I overcompensate and shank the ball.

After a number of adjustments and trying combinations, my successful tactic is to swing back lightly more inwards than I am used to, slow down my swing, and make sure that I follow through and end up with my hands high in the air and pointing to the target.

Indeed I am going to have to do alot of practicing before the real golf season begins if I want to do well in the tournaments.

When Another Player is addressing the ball. There are only two things that every other player should be doing when a player is addressing the ball: standing absolutely still and watching the player hit. Movement is unacceptable. Talking is unacceptable. Fussing with equipment is unacceptable. Looking around is unacceptable. Stand still and watch the shot. If you can't render this simple courtesy, then you do not belong on a golf course.

You'd be very surprised how many people forget about this very basic rule.

Fall is nice when it comes to the transition of seasons, the trees losing their leaves, the air becoming colder, the late afternoons getting darker along with the prolonging of shadows and the sun setting low on the horizon.

For the avid golfer, this subtle change of nature can become a bit of a disaster. There are so many leaves lying on the ground, that it is very easy to lose a golf ball here and there.

Even the finest drive hit smack down the middle of the fairway runs the risk of rolling and stopping right under a large brownish leave that happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Good-bye golf ball, no hope ever finding you again unless I just happen to peak under the right leave, one chance in a thousand maybe even a million, it's hard to say exactly.

Sometimes one of those green-keepers comes along with his giant leaf blower which slightly alleviates this aggravation, but only as long as you keep the ball on the fairway.

The slightest fade or draw causes the ball to bounce and disappear into one of those massive piles of leaves, half a foot deep and spanning tens of meters of a crumpled brown expanse.

Also the fall means that the sun is lower on the horizon, and more than one longish par four poses quite a challenge pointing you directly into the sunlight. You hit the ball just fine, or so it felt like it, but where did the ball land exactly? Much to my surprise there it is right next to the flag, buried in the bunker, over there behind a tree, or never to be found again.

The game of golf remains a true and honorable challenge despite the different ways that nature tries to make life more difficult.

See also Autumn Rules for an entertaining account about bazillions of leaves.

Perhaps it would make my life more enjoyable if I simply accepted the fact that my golf game just is not as good as it was during my more youthful days.

Otherwise I end up getting overly stressed when losing the ball or hacking my way from one side of the fairway to the other.

I used to come home and my wife would ask how it went, and I'd grumble by saying it went lousy. Maybe, she said, you should just accept the fact that you are simply not as good as you used to be.

I still hate slicing the ball into the water, three putting when hitting the green in regulation, whacking the ball too thinly from the sand trap and watching the ball fly clean over the green, losing yet another ball, etc.

However, by accepting the fact that I'm just another average bogey golfer, I enjoy my occasional pars (and birdies) with pleasure and satisfaction.

In two week I'll be playing in the next golf tournament, so let's see how it goes then.

The other day while minding my own business on the golf course, hacking around innocently from one side of the fairway to the other, I decided to take off my golfing cap. That way the warm sunshine would fall on my face as extra inspiration for better shots to come. I affixed it securely to my putter and continued on unsuspectingly.

After three holes I discovered that my favorite cap had fallen off. Much to my despair as I had gotten it during my USA visit last April, which was a nice souvenir. Now that's probably why I've been playing so lousy. Oh well, better luck next time.

My golfing opponent decided to give me a break on the second par four hole when he could have easily penalized me a couple strokes to his advantage.

The way it started was that the third player in our flight was located on the fringe of the green. Because he was unable to address his ball properly with my ball in the way of his left foot, he asked me politely to mark my ball.

So that is exactly what I did. Without thinking much of it, I proceeded unconsciously out of habit to clean my ball with a couple slight rubbing movements of my palm and fingers.

I figured that since my ball was overhanging the green half way that the usual rules of golf would apply, therefore allowing me to clean my ball after marking it.

However, although to the casual observer it may have appeared not unreasonable to assume that the ball was actually on the green, the official rules of golf are very clear and strict about this oversight of mine.

According to the official rules, the ball is only deemed 'on the green' when any part of the ball is 'touching' the green.

Overhanging half way is NOT the same as touching the green. My opponent was correct, quite observant, and he could have easily incurred the penalty on me. Even though I was requested to mark and pickup my ball, I was not allowed to clean it in any way whatsoever, not even a subtle rubbing motion of my fingers.

Although this action did not lead to any bad feelings or serious altercations towards each other, I was shaken up enough about the whole affair that I proceeded to double bogey the next two holes.

Thereby giving myself the penalty strokes I probably deserved anyway, even golf is not immune to the law of retribution.

That is why the game of golf is an interesting sport in that regard. I've learned my lesson and won't forget it the next time.

You can't just go out there thinking you'll simply whack the ball around and expect to play a half decent round of golf.

You need to have a game plan organized well in advance, before you even tee off on the very first hole.

This can best be done during your early morning cup of coffee and then during the ride to the golf course. No need to rush things, just relax and prepare yourself mentally.

Start on the first hole and in your mind put yourself through a number of scenarios. What happens if I pull the ball to the left? What if I fade into into the trees? Suppose I'm right in front of the bunker and the flag is tucked tightly right in front?

Now proceed to the following hole. Should I chip the ball low and let it bounce up to the green or can I better hit the ball high and hard so that it lands right next to the pin? What happens if I misjudge the distance and fly over the green

Before you realize it you've visualized all eighteen holes and you are feeling more confident. Hopefully it won't be raining when you get there.

I've got a really bad case of the shanks lately, and for the life of me I cannot seem to shake them off. Messes up my golf score big city.

Here's a typical scenario. I hit a beautiful shot from the tee which splits the fairway in half and flies way down towards the green. My second approach shot shanks right and disappears into the thick foliage. I lose the ball and have to take a one stroke penalty. As I address the ball for the next shot I'm nervous I will shank it yet again.

Once you get an acute case of the shakes, you approach every new shot with the inner fear that this is going to happen again. The more you think about it the higher the chances it will indeed happen again.

And again, and again, and again.

So in that regard it's mostly a psychological thing. Now I have to straighten out that mental kink and get my act back together.

Either that or give up golf altogether. I'd much rather keep playing golf though.

Shanks Tip Sheet.

I took my youngest son Maarten out golfing with me for a quick evening nine holes, to get a feel of the course, and let him be my caddy.

On the fourth hole, I hit a magnificent shot which landed right in front of the flag, and the ball rolled up to within two inches of the hole.

If only I had struck the ball a fraction of an ounce harder it might have gone in. Maarten was jumping up and down and screaming with excitement. I was also pretty excited but held my cool as any good golf professional would do.

The question remains: when will I get my first hole-in-one? You'd think that after all these years of avid golfing it should have happened more than once by now.

I felt honored and privileged when I was called and asked to join the prestigious English-speaking Ryder cup team, the match to take place some time in August. Not that my golf has been that great lately, but it is nonetheless fun to be part of a (hopefully) winning team. We will have to wait and see.

I finally qualified for my first official Dutch handicap. Once again my lucky number pops up again, meaning my handicap is 11.

This means that I qualify for the upcoming club championship 'Clubkampioenschappen tegen Par' at the end of the month.

Can't wait.

My first round of golf while back home was just next door at the Laguna Seca Golf Ranch. What a fantastic course it is and quite challenging to say the least. I played with Kevin and Mike who were a couple of nice guys, just as much addicted to golf as me (if that's possible).

By the way, in case you were interested "laguna seca" is Spanish for "dry lake."

There was alot of wind and the greens were really fast, making three or even four putts a higher risk. In fact, although the greens were in perfect shape, sometimes I felt like I was putting on a pool table slanted slightly at 15 degrees. The ball just never stops rolling, rolling, rolling.

Laguna Seca Golf Ranch.

Because it rains an awful lot in Holland, the golf courses tend to be really wet, sometimes even soaked to the rim.

Even if I hit a fantastic tee shot right down the middle of the fairway, the ball plugs into the ground and doesn't roll at all.

The ironic thing is that if I hit the green right next to the flag, the ball does bounce further, sometimes even off the back of the green.

Frustrating to say the least.

I would like to become a Buddhist golfer, but first I have to figure what that means exactly.

From inside I feel that I have a relatively good idea, naturally being one with nature, internally controlling ones emotions, and externally making the ball fly straight and into the whole.

Let's start by pursuing the middle path, meaning that I hit the ball consistently right down the middle of the fairway.

The golf ball is actually an illusion, but through it's connectedness with the rest of the golf course, it becomes an expression of my very essence.

Watch out for those nasty sand traps.

Today marks yet another first in my golf career, namely playing golf in the snow.

At one point the snow was falling so thick I could barely see where the ball was going.

After all these years I finally had another birdie which felt really great.

I had a nice solid drive to the 6th hole, which flew cleanly over the small creek and landed a mere 50 yards to the left of the green. An easy chip bounced twice on the green and landed just short of the pin, slightly uphill.

After checking the lie of the green front and back, I removed various leaves and twigs blocking the way. Holding my ping putter ever so gently, I struck the ball with confidence, watching it roll upwards, before it turned left with a slight hook right into the middle of the hole.

The sound of the ball falling into the cup and bouncing around gave me a fine feeling inside. Birdie!

De Hooge Bergsche

So it's finally my first chance as an official club member to go out and play a round of golf, something which I was eagerly looking forward to the whole week.

Alas, powerful winds from the North Sea are pounding the coast, knocking over trees and power lines, making it impossible to play golf outside.

Oh well, I discovered a huge golfing store in Rotterdam, so I'll be going there with Maarten and look around some.

After having waited impatiently a number of months, I'm now top of the list to become a member of Golfbaan de Rottebergen.

Next step is to negotiate down the price for the membership certificate to an affordable amount, get an official handicap, and it's life as a happy Dutch golfer for me.

It'll be good for me to be out in nature, network and meet new people, and improve my golfing techniques.

My new goal in life is to get a hole-in-one.

Every time now for several month that nice set of irons in the pro shop has been staring me in the eye tempting me to take them home.

I'd already tried out the nine, six and four irons, and they felt true and the ball flew nice and straight. Why not?

So today I succumbed to all temptations and bought the wonderful set of Titleist Forged 690.CB irons.

Since they are last years product line, I received a nice discount (€770).

My complete golf set is nearly complete, now I only need a good sand wedge.

Who cares if I can really slam that ball wickedly into the distance. The more important thing is hitting it straight and making sure that the ball lands somewhere near the middle of the fairway.

I will have to concentrate more on accuracy, which probably means sacrificing distance by easing down the speed of my swing and hitting the ball less intensely.

Could it be that as of lately I am hitting the ball so fast, so far and so true that more often than not I am unable to see quite exactly where this sweet shot of mine has actually landed?

More likely it was a combination of an overcast day and my less than optimal eyesight that has been causing me to lose the exact trajectory somewhere near the apex.

Once I get my swing going more consistently I should be able to focus better within that narrow funnel through which the sweet shot will be traveling with pure gusto.

Isn't golf a truly amazing sport?!

Now in addition to my nice driver, I am also the proud owner of Benross v3 and v5 fairways woods.

Now all I need is a new set of irons, which will more than likely either be Titleist Forged 704 or Ben Hogan Apex Plus.

First I need to practice some more, work hard to earn extra money, and then when I feel certain I can spoil myself even more.

Can't wait.

While growing and learning golf, I had this natural slice that for the life of me I could never shake.

Now that I am much older, I have somehow slightly overcompensated this tendency with a very predictable draw.

Actually I still feel comfortable with fading it to the right rather than drawing it too far left and verging on hooking it out of bounds.

Here is the really nice driver I just bought. It's made by Callaway, it's called Big Bertha Fusion FT-3, and it looks like this:

Except that mine has a stiff shaft and nine degree loft. Boy, with this baby I can really swat the ball down there 250 yards when I connect.

I took a mighty swing on the driving range and the head of my five iron flew off into the distance tumbling in the air and landing about one hundred yards ahead of me.

I was hoping to put off buying a new set of clubs until I had been able to practice for a couple of months first, but it appears that my thirty year old golf clubs of yore have reached end of life and are breaking up while I hold them in my hands.

Time to save up some extra cash, look around for a good deal, and treat myself to a nice set of clubs.

Although I haven't touched a club in more than two years, I decided once and for all to take up the wonderful sport of golf again (under the recent constant urgings of my wife to go out and do something fun for myself).

The closest golf course is about 15 minutes from here on the way to Rotterdam and it is called Golfbaan de Rottebergen.

Since it is a fairly popular place, the waiting list is about 10 - 11 months. The membership is quite expensive, but the investment is more than worthwhile if it makes me feel better by getting me out in nature and meeting new and interesting fellow golfers.

In the meantime, I will practice, hit balls and see if I can saddle myself up with a nice new set of clubs. The set I have dates back to when I was a kid, so it is time to upgrade to the new technology.

I will keep my good old Ping putter though.