Results matching “golf”

The stakes are high when you really want to practice intensely and improve your golf game. You need to follow between honing your skills and not overdoing things. This year I've put almost every extra ounce of energy into bringing my game to a new level. Having achieved my lowest handicap ever, this tactic seems to have been fairly successful in helping me reach my potential.

However, there is a fine line between reaching your maximum and not over straining your physical well being. Golf means sacrifice in more ways than one. I really have the urge to play as much as possible, but at the same time I am starting to feel the effects on my body. I'm not as young as I used to be.

To be more precise, it has to do with my left knee which has been getting more and more painful in the last couple of weeks. It started about a month ago after running. So I took a break for a week before running again after it seemed to have disappeared. Then it got so bad that I couldn't stand up properly, walking upstairs was unbelievably painful, and I limp like an old man. I sleep restlessly and am awakened by the throbbing pain.

ITBS - Iliotibial Band Syndrome

So here's the dilemma. If I take a break from golf the pain gets less, but at the same time since I am not practicing my golf game gets worse. If I do not take a break, I can practice more and keep my game sharp, but my knee starts hurting much worse. This seems to me as very ironic. Finally in my life I've reached a level of golf I could have only wished for, and then this stupid pain becomes a frustrating obstacle in my way. Maybe it's some kind of message or something.

There are still a number of important tournaments I want to play in, so I will just have to wing it out and bear with the pain. When winter comes I'll have all the time in the world to rest and recover. Just enough pauses balancing with minimal practice so that my game remains good enough, though perhaps not at the peak possible. Better golf means more pain which means worse golf a hopeless ad infinitum.

As is the best way to go with so many things in life, I will have to find the middle path out there: play good enough golf without wrecking my body.

The chip in eagle on the par four third hole put me two under par, and I coasted along the front nine with a couple bogies making the turn at even par. The back nine was a bit of a struggle with seven pars and two bogies ending the day at two over par. Final score was 37+36=73 which is my second best from the regular tees. No double bogies but not a single birdie either. My putting was slightly off, otherwise it would have been a stellar round for me. My handicap has dropped to a snazzy 4.2 which happens to be my lowest handicap so far since I was a young buck. There is still hope for the aging golfers in this world.

For the first time in my life I decided to go out and splurge by hiring a well-known club-fitter for professional advice. He measured various aspects of my swing (velocity, angle of descent, spin, alignment, etc) as well as my bodily dimensions (height, arm length, hand size, stance and angle I address the ball) to come up with clubs tailor-made and optimized to my abilities and constraints.

The shaft was shortened slightly, the resting position of the club head adjusted upwards so that the ball impacts a bit higher on the club face, and introduced a new shaft flex between stiff and regular/senior, among other things.

With the same clubs I can swing at a slower velocity, gain more control at impact and on average hit the ball 10 meters farther. Sometimes if I hit the ball just right, the ball flies so purely that I can barely feel the impact it feels so soft. I can hit my 8-iron more than 150 meters, for example. After two days of warming up and practicing with my new weapons, not trying to kill the ball, inspiring certain subtle mental adjustments and increasing my confidence by being more positive about my abilities, I enjoy golf that much more.

Thanks to these new beauties, I managed to play a super weekend of golf. In fact, I went out and won the second major club tournament called "Clubkampioenschap Tegen Par" where per hole you score a zero(0) for par, a minus(-) for a bogie or better and a (+) for a birdie or better. I came in at the top by shooting -4, +2 and -6 for a grand total of -8.

During the NK Strokeplay Heren Senioren golf championship, I was hitting the ball really well. Despite the disappointing results, I have to admit that in general I felt pretty good after the two day tournament. Twenty-fourth in a field of eight-eight of the best Dutch senior golfers is nice. These guys are pretty good, and being part of this interesting challenge keeps me sharp and competitive. I also got to meet many nice guys who are dedicated to the true spirit of golf.

Unfortunately I had three disaster holes: two triple bogies and one quadruple bogie. Two caused by mad slice drives into the thick forest and one caused by a flubbed five iron off of the tee which went into the water hazard. Despite these disasters, I am proud to say that I kept my cool and shook them off with a casual smile and chuckle. The course was in beautiful condition and perfect golf weather, so I could not complain.

That's ten lousy strokes thrown out of the window. If I had only parred those easy holes, I calculate that I would have come in third place. What a shame. However, we all know that golf was never meant to be a game of "ifs" so be it. Better luck next time.

For the first time in my life I have been disqualified from a golf tournament, before I even hit the ball a single time. It all happened less than a couple hours ago and I'm still recovering from such an unexpected disappointment.

It's not like I did anything bad, or did I?

My official start time at the Dutch Senior Open was 14:20 but for some reason I had 14:40 engraved in my mind. Although I've been living here for a long time, I still have problems with the 24-hour clock they use in Europe.

I purposely arrived very early so that I could spend much time warming up for this important event I'd been looking forward to for many weeks. I registered myself an hour before and started practicing and getting loosened up.

At two thirty I went to the first tee. Some official lady came up to me and asked if I was "Keffin" Gish. When I said I was, she said that I had missed my starting time of 14:20. That's not possible I answered, my starting time is 14:40. She pointed to my scorecard and there it was perfectly clear: 14:20 indeed.

Proof that I was indeed mistaken.

What bad luck. They were very strict and would not make any exceptions to the rule. When I gave her an emotional story of looking forward all year to the event that was my big highlight, taking off two days from work, their final cold judgement wouldn't budge an inch. I even got a little desperate and said that I suffered from a slight form of dyslexia, meaning I often can't help but mixing up the numbers. Too bad, those are the rules and we are very strict. No I would not be allowed to play in a later flight. They wouldn't even refund the fifty euros registration fee I paid less than an hour earlier, what a waste.

(I will write them a polite letter and appeal for a refund of the fifty euros which I believe is a reasonable request)

What's even stranger is that I had a bad dream last night. I dreamed that they wouldn't let me play because I was wearing my new white golfing shoes. For some reason these shoes didn't not adhere to the official rules, and no matter how I pleaded they would not listen to me. It was one of those frustrating dreams where you have almost reached someplace, but at the very last moment you get prevented from going any further because of some bizarre and nonsensical reason. Like running a race but right before you cross the finish line your legs freeze up or turn to rubber and you cannot move while everyone else passes you by in a flash.

Scorecard which clearly shows my start time.

Perhaps it was my subconsciousness trying to warn me in a symbolic way: that the start time I had registered in my mind was incorrect. Too bad that I did not remember the dream until afterwards, when my disqualification and resulting ruminations brought back that faraway memory of a dream. So much for mysterious spiritual messages when you cannot heed to them as well.

I learned my lesson the hard way and know that I need to be extra careful next time. This has been yet another exciting day's journey in an unpredictable life.

Shake it off, adapt and go on. Life continues as usual.

Tomorrow I will be playing my first round of the International Dutch Senior Open at the Golfclub Broekpolder. If I make the cut on Friday I get to play in the final round on Saturday. Wish me luck.

All those days of grueling practice and mental preparation have finally resulted in the ultimate success. With satisfying rounds of 74+77+80 during the weekend, I played exceptionally well.

Best of all is that I won 1st place at the Club Championship. Life is good and I'm starting to love this sport called golf all over again.

My handicap dove down to my lowest of 4.3 and then got bumped up to a 4.4 handicap.

Next week Thursday I play in the International Dutch Senior Open and will do my best to keep up the momentum, my plan being to make the weekend cut.

On average nearly half of your golf shots are on or around the green. The reason that practicing putting and short chip shots is essential to playing good golf.

That's why lately I've been spending much time on the practice putting green. Two or three times a week I drive by after work and spend an hour or two putting around.

I've developed my own practice program. I make a loop putting around the perimeter of holes. Two is even and putt ins count for one under. Three balls per hole. I am not allowed to make a single three putt. Every single putt counts, even the very short so-called easy tap ins. This keeps one sharp for the important stroke play tournaments where every hole must be putted out to completion. If I do three putt I have to start all over again.

Sometimes I'm lucky the very first try and make it through all the way around without three putting. If that happens I have to keep on going until I three putt and then start all over again. I keep on going for an hour or two. A couple days ago I made it through the first round at eight under. Another time I kept three putting the first hole and had to restart three times, made it to the second hole and three putted that hole and on and on. Sometime I make it to the very last hole and miss the very last two foot putt.

When I've had enough putting for the day, I head on over to the chipping green. There I can practice short chips from the fringe and just outside of the fringe in the rough. This usually goes on for half an hour, but I cannot leave until the last ball is chipped into the hole.

I find this ritual very relaxing and peaceful. Often I'll look at the clock and see that two hours have gone by without realizing it. This is a mental game which sharpens my mind and allows me to escape from the stress and chaos of the real world. Funny how the human mind likes these kinds of games and gets re-energized by whacking around a little white ball into these round holes in the ground.

I've been playing golf for so many years now that I've pretty much experienced every crazy possibility you can imagine. During the monthly medal last Sunday, I did it again much to my amazement and entertainment of my fellow players. I will try to explain what happened.

I was playing pretty well that day except for my drive on the eight hole which I pulled to the left. Worried that it was a lost ball, I was relieved when someone else spotted it in the deep rough.

Rather than getting a double-bogie and possible triple with my provisional, I now had an easy chance at a bogie possible par. Since the rough was so thick I had no choice but to place it safe and chip it out into the middle of the fairway. All I needed to do was concentrate and get the ball out of there.

Because of the thick grass and perhaps some carelessness on my part as well, I had to hit the ball much harder than usual, and I caught the ball on the toe of the club causing it to fly out sideways and to the right. I saw it shoot out and fly directly at a low trajectory right at my bag, making a loud thump and disappearing in thin air. The ball had disappeared, where did it go?

Hitting your own bag is bad enough due to a penalty stroke, but what was the ruling if you could not find the ball afterwards? Would I have to take a two stroke penalty for a lost ball and play the ball again from the original spot buried in the high rough in addition to the one stroke penalty for hitting my own bag? This could be a disastrous hole, having to hit my ball again but this time lying five. Six out on the fairway (hopefully), a long iron onto the green (hopefully) and two putts for a nine or possible ten on a par four hole.

Upon closer inspection I examined where the ball had struck my bag which had been a direct hit on the side pocket zipper. The zipper was slightly open, and there inside together with all my other balls and tees was the original ball! What are the odds of that happening? Luckily, I had marked the ball with my unique pattern and was able to distinguish it from the rest of the balls in there. No one believed me at first, until I showed them the ball and explained what happened. It was a miracle mishap.

As it turned out I managed to save a double bogie by sinking a thirty foot putt. I wrecked my double bogie free round again, but it could have been worse, much worse.

Even par after twelve holes, and all of it from the back tees. It's a rare pleasure shooting a thirty-six on the front nine way back from the championship tees. I was going strong, but the further I got the more nervous and insecure I became.

Okay, so what if I shot a bogie on the thirteenth par three. Sure it was a lousy chip rolling past the hole and I missed the putt coming back by leaving it short. I should have just shaken it off and continued. Actually, that's what I thought I did, but I guess subconsciously this hiccup was eating me up inside.

After that I choked the rest of the way, starting even par after twelve holes it went like this: bogie, bogie (sliced into the trees and lucky it didn't go out of bounds), bogie (nice six iron ten feet from the flag but just off the back of the green, chip two feet from the hole, jabbed putt right for the miss), double-bogie (shanked a 4-iron of the tee), double-bogie (flubbed an easy chip from just off the green and three putted) and a bogie to end it all.

This has happened to me before a a couple of other occasions. Going along strong, worried to make a mistake, collapsing like a fool. It's all mental and I have no one else to blame but myself.

My final score was: 36 + 43 = 79 (at least I broke 80).

Golf is the cruelest of sports. It keeps taunting you to come back and to keep trying again and again until you somehow achieve that once in a lifetime perfect round.

I'm still hoping to achieve some day in the near future.

So this is pretty embarrassing. Barely qualified for the NGF Monthly Cup and felt excited. Joined the last flight as the last person. Drove early in the morning all the way to the east of Holland to the Heelsum golf course so that I could play with the best golfers. Mostly young bucks less than half my age, so what was I trying to prove? I guess I needed a new challenge in life, so I gave it a go anyway.

My swing felt pretty good and I was hitting some really long drives off of the tee. On the last hole I really let one fly, best drive of the year. However, two triple bogies, three double bogies and only six pars killed my game in the end.

Nice to be humbled, realize that I am not the best golfer in the world anymore, get back to basics and make me rethink my game.

So far this year, my golf game has been steadily going downhill. I do not believe that there is any correlation at all between the amount of time I practice on the driving range and my actual performance out on the golf course.

The more I practice the more I get stuck, it just doesn't matter any more. I even wasted sixty euros on a one hour golf lesson to readjust my grip. Throughout the week, I hit lots of buckets of balls and putt for hours, but I keep asking myself what for?

Though I am very frustrated I do not let it show. I pretend to be relaxed about my lousy golf game and joke around. I appear so very cool, calm and collected. The truth of the matter is that I am boiling inside, raging at myself because I cannot understand why I am playing so poorly.

I am tempted to throw my bag of clubs into the lake and my golf shoes along with them. But I better not, because perhaps in a few days or weeks I may need them again.

At least once a year I have my worst round of the year. Today was such a day and it was not much fun. I started out with three double-bogies in a row followed by five bogies and a lucky par on the ninth hole. That's a big bad 47 which is eleven over par for the first nine holes.

I was playing from the back tees for the first time this year, but that is no excuse. It was just one of those days where everything went wrong, and I could not make a single putt.

The back nine started out alright with two pars in a row, and then I had another double-bogie when I four-putted. It was grin and bear it from then on, and somehow I managed to keep my cool and shoot an even 40 for the back nine.

The final result was nothing to be proud of: 47 + 40 = 87. It could have been worse, at least I broke ninety.

I kind of amazed myself by remaining fairly calm and collected most of the way. I decided to treat it as an interesting learning experience. Turn around the misery and transform it into a worthwhile experience.

First of all it gave me a chance to keep my cool despite a highly frustrating round, especially the first three holes. Then again, I saw it as a unique opportunity to try out some challenging shots which I would normally not be able to practice if I were hitting every ball straight.

For the next time I am better prepared because I am familiar with that awful feeling. Imagine I am playing a stellar round of golf and going for the course record. Now if I flub a shot I can keep calm and recover. That is the true spirit of golf which will help me score a winning round.

Golf can be so much more enjoyable if you have the right frame of mind. What at first seems to be a terrible disappointment is really a brand new challenge waiting for you to overcome.

Hopefully I will not have another worst round of golf for a very long time.

The beauty of golf is that even after years and years of experience you still can learn something new every day. Here's a tip I happened to pick up while watching golf on the television.

When you are in the sand trap and the sand is soft, it's recommended that you dig into the sand by wiggling your feet to sink down and get a firmer stance. A subtle side effect of this approach is that you end up slightly deeper below the ball compared to a normal stance on firm ground.

In order to compensate this sinking below the ball you need to adjust your grip by choking down slightly, resulting in an inch or two to the top of the grip being exposed above your left hand.

For optimal effect this distance should be exactly equal to the amount your feet have sunk down in the sand. You take a normal swing except that you're gripping lower and the arc is at a sharper angle. You need to strike the ball at the point just above the spot where the level of sand meets the surface of the ball.

Hitting a ball smoothly out of a sand trap taking just the right amount of sand with it is a fantastic feeling.

Ideal climate early March inspired me to get up extra early on a Sunday morning to play a round of golf by myself. Too bad I bogied three of the first four holes, but the wonderful nature around me soothed away the slight disappoints. For the first time this year a double-bogie-less round, no birdies though. In total seven bogies and the rest pars for a 39+39=78.

Early morning and ready to head out to the golf course. The morning weather is perfect and the sky is blue. After my shower I'm feeling energetic and am only slightly stiffer than usual. I bend down slowly and reach out with my right arm, the goal being to lift up the carry bag containing my clothes. Before my hand gets even half way, something in the lower right half of my back pops. Just above the hip towards my third lumbar. Or is it my second lumbar? Feels like it makes some sound, but I do not hear anything. I think oops and freeze in mid-air afraid to move any further. The pain has not yet been triggered, but it will come. I slowly stand back up and then it hits me. Oops double whammy this time. I was really looking forward to a great round of golf and look at me now. Oh well, better luck next time. Four days later and the soreness is receding somewhat, but I still need to be careful. Next weekend I'll be ready to go and shoot a record round of golf.

Looks like I will not be playing golf today. Once again the golf course is closed because of the rain. Perhaps I will go there anyway after lunch to hit some balls since it is important that I keep in form. I cannot wait until the climate improves and I can play as much golf as I want, asides from my work of course. Goal this year is to get my game down and halving my current handicap to a three. I wonder if I can manage that. There's a good chance that it can happen if I persevere and keep a positive attitude.

In my childhood days, my father would often bring me out to the golf course to play a father and son round of golf. In particular, I remember quite well the Salinas Golf and Country Club. We were members there and my father kept his own fancy electric golf cart in a large shed out back.

The 5th hole was a long 175 yard par three with a steep downhill drop of around 75 feet, an out-of-bounds fence on the left past which a bunch of straggling cows meandered around in an arid meadow. In front of the tee box, there were a bunch of trees in the way, so you had to launch the ball high enough in order to clear the tree tops. In those days I was a big slicer and hit the ball low, so this hole was especially challenging for me. Most of the time I'd hit my ball right into a tree or just graze the top and have the ball swatted down to the ground with a thud. I had never hit that green in regulation with my father, and standing on the tee box I was especially nervous.

I dearly wanted to prove my worthiness, that indeed I had become a true golfer, in my father's eyes a hero of exceptional qualities. To make matters worse, my father occasinally prodded me on with a challenge. He said that if I hit the green he would give me five dollars. Wow, five dollars! Back in those days you could buy a popsicle for a dime (ten cents) and a can of Coke for a quarter (twenty-five cents), so five whole dollars seemed like an amazing amount of money to me, true riches beyond imagination.

This challenge where winning money was the name of the game made me extra nervous, drastically decreasing the chances of me hitting the ball very well at all.

My arms and legs felt rubbery and my swing became weak and sluggish due to the extra pressure. However, this process proved to be an excellent proving ground for me, honing my skills of concentration under pressure. Then one day it happened. I teed my ball up extra high, aimed to the left of the hole right along the out-of-bounds fence, and managed to make a mighty swing.

Whack!

The little white ball flew high and disappeared into the sky. Way over the trees. Instead of slicing like it always did, the ball had the sweetest little fade you could imagine. Once launched into the celestial realm, it was now in God's hands.

The trajectory was mathematical in form, that natural parabola to which the laws of nature and physics constrain ball flight. Things looked very promising. Bounce, bounce and bounce, and the ball rolled right up onto the front of the green. I did it! From that day on, my father called me the "Sweet Swatter" a title which I carried proudly and with honor.

Even to this day when I have an especially tricky shot under pressure and need to concentrate, I remember the good old "Sweet Swatter" days which (more often than not) helps me play much better.

I had not touched a golf club for more than three weeks. My last round of golf was such a disaster that I decided that I needed a long rest from the frustrations of golf in order to recover. My life nearly ended on the fifth hole where an easy chip-and-run punch to the green for a possible birdie, transformed itself in a wink of the eye into a needless shank into the water. What followed (sand-trap, sand-trap, over-the-green, over-the-green, chip-and-putt) was a quadruple bogie nine. To make things even worse, a double-bogie six on the next easy par four sealed my fate, and I decided to quit golf, sell my clubs and give the money to some charity.

So it was with some trepidation that I went to the club yesterday afternoon and started my rehabilitation on the driving range. I feared for the worse, and after a short warm up I grabbed my wedge and went for it. Okay recovery, take care of me please. Surprisingly the club made pretty good contact with the ball and I was hitting close to the hundred meter marker. Then I slowly and surely went up the range of irons onto the woods and then at last my good old driver. Not bad, not bad at all.

After three buckets of balls, only two half-shanks and most other shots between the good to excellent range, I felt pretty good. There is still hope. It is all mental anyway, whether I practice or not. Practicing is always good but without a healthy demeanor and solid frame of mind, you can only attain a so-so level of golf.

Over the years I've collected many books. The library has grown so extensive that it's hard to find more space for any additional books I may purchase. My favorite subjects are computers, fiction, history and golf. I figure that I've read about eighty per cent of all the books I own.

Where's the green?

The thick fog makes golfing nearly impossible. At least when you tee off on a long straight par five you can kind of guess where you should hit the ball. Par threes are a bit more problematic. Where's the flag? I believe it is somewhere between that trap on the right and the edge of the water left, can you see it? Distance markers are no help either, especially for large greens when a given distance to the middle of the green could mean plus minus twenty meters. I had a terrible score and I am too embarrassed to reveal what I shot (46+47=93). Believe it or not I once had a lucky birdie on a par four dogleg to the left. Crunched my drive right down the middle of the fairway, completely guessing where the flag might be, hitting a perfect six iron low and over the water, and when I got there it was two feet short of the hole. I won't mention all the double bogies and the six balls I lost that day.

Fantastic awesome golfers

They say that running is good for the body and the mind, and I can attest to such a claim that at least in my case it is very true. For me it's not only about getting outside and putting in the distance as is, but pushing myself and forcing a slightly higher tempo than a causal jog. The first half kilometer is fast, and I sprint out the last couple hundred meters so that when I make it back home I am huffing and puffing and sweating profusely. Even when the weather is cold and windy, or the rain is pouring down and I have to dash through puddles and mud, I keep up the usual pace. As in work and as in play I like the challenges, achieving goals and doing my best. Not that I have to be a perfectionist and beat some personal records, though in my younger years I tended to push myself past all limits of reasonableness. My wife is worried that if I'm not more careful I might get a heart attack. Not if I can help it. She thinks I take things way too seriously, including sports. I'm rarely satisfied with my golf scores, and I finish my runs thinking it was okay rather than it was a great time. There is an element of winning in all we do, but it is not the most important goal. Achieving the finish line no matter what, if things go well or not, that's what it's all about. Even failing completely but still finishing is a noble achievement, a much more valuable experience in the lessons of life. Nine out of ten times one is unable to achieve exactly what was planned for, and it is this single time that does that makes it worthwhile.

Thirteen years ago today my father passed away. Had he still been alive, he would have reached the ripe old age of ninety-seven. Hope you're doing alright, by now you must have shot your age many times on that eternal golf course up in the sky.

I started out the year with a pretty low handicap, but through practice and perseverance my goal was to lower it much further. At the beginning of the year, following a couple of stellar rounds, my handicap went down. But after that it gradually went up again. Then I had a second streak of good luck rounds and my handicap dropped again. However, since then it has been slowly going up a notch every so often. Now after a full golfing season, I am back to where I started. My handicap has remained the same.

Looking at things more positively, although I was not able to improve my game that much, I did manage to retain a low handicap, which is not easy. This goes to show you that the better you get the more effort it is to keep on playing that well.

Golf is like the sport called life. It's not so much about getting better all the time and becoming the very best, as it is about staying the same and enjoying this fully for what it was meant to be.

You would think that the more you practice the better you get. This month I have already played eight rounds of golf. My scores so far have been: 81, 76, 83, 76, 74, 76, 80, 84.

This morning I got up extra early for yet another day of golf. I started out so lousy that I quit after three holes. Bogie, double-bogie, bogie. I was so fed up, felt stressed and started cussing out loud to myself. When it started raining real bad I felt better, knowing that the day wasn't wasted since because of the weather I would have quit anyway.

Practicing too much is also not good. Although you need to practice in order to get better, there's an upper limit. The act of practicing should remain fun and relaxing. You also need to feel calm and hone your skills at the same time, otherwise you will not get better only worse.

With that said, I will take a two day break. Hopefully by Sunday I will be mentally prepared for the final monthly medal tournament. Soon enough winter will be here and I will have to take a longer break from golf.

Every round of golf starts with a fresh slate. The scorecard is a virgin row of boxes to be filled in with digits: birdies, pars, bogies, whatever. It's a brand-new start and anything can happen.

This can be very exciting when you've just spent the previous half hour on the driving range hitting each and every ball pure and straight, landing them right next to the target. As you approach the first hole to tee off, you feel confident and know you will have a good day, I mean a fantastic day. You are pumped up and ready to go.

That's how I felt today at the Slotwedstrijd Heren Senioren, the final Dutch senior tournament of the year. The official announced my name and it was time to go. I wasn't nervous at all because I knew I had a good chance at shooting the course record. Yeah right, who was I kidding this time.

I topped my drive and the ball rolled fifty meters into this area of thick mounds of tundra. Hacked it out somehow into the fairway. To make matters even worse, my next shot ended up out in some meadow. I had opened the caddy book to the wrong page. Showing a par 4 first hole, but the wrong one. Dogleg to the right when in reality it was a dogleg to the left. Somehow managed to find my ball in the middle of nowhere beneath a bush, but ended up with a "lucky" triple-bogie seven.

Bad start, golf is such a very cruel sport. Chops you down when you're feeling high, should have spent my time worshiping the golf gods instead of being selfish and hitting balls on the driving range.

From one extreme to the other. After that I played erratically, had six three putts, left an eagle chip just short of the hole but tapped in the birdie, ended the last three easy holes with bogies.

So at the end of the day my struggle had left me slightly rattled. My score: 43 + 40 = 83. Better luck next year.

Last year at the Davilex Open, I had a stellar round shooting a 76 and coming in 4th place. However I am sad to have to admit that this year I had a boring so-so round with two double bogies shooting an 83 and coming in 36th place. I really should have played much better, I had been practicing the whole week before. On the fourth hole I hooked my drive way left out of bounds and actually hit the side of a barn. On another easy par four, I fluffed my fifty meter chip way short of the green, skulled the next shot to the back of the green and then three putted. Oh well, better luck next year.

Results

Now that I have some extra free time on my hands, I've been playing more golf trying to improve my game and hone my mental skills.

I'm almost there, hitting the ball pretty well most of the time. However, I tend to pull the ball to the left, sometimes even hooking it. Some shots I hit pure as can be, and while the ball starts heading directly at the target, it veers off with an aggravating draw pulling the ball off of the green. Every once in awhile, I even unexpectedly shank or on occasion even top the ball. Killing for any good round, such stupid and undeserving shots.

So it was time for a lesson. I needed to get in good shape for this weekend: the Monthly Medal A on Saturday and the Davilex Open at Liemeer on Sunday. Normally I never take lessons, figuring I can work hard and figure things out on my own. But this had been going on for way too long, and over the last six months it was slowly getting worse and worse. I was desperate feeling desperate.

I went straight to the club pro and told him it was an emergency: I needed his help right away. He would finish his lunch and could help me fifteen minutes later.

The pro already knew what was wrong after I hit two balls. In no time and with only a few small adjustments I was cured. Bang, bang, bang. Seven iron, five iron, three iron, five wood and driver. Pitching wedge also good, right down the smokestack. Shall I hit the flag for show? It was a miracle, I felt ecstatic and relieved at the same time. There's still hope, thank the golfing gods.

Basically, I need to address the ball (with confidence) and remember thee following three things in this order:

• Weaken my grip slightly by turning my right hand a couple millimeters clockwise.
• Take a solid stance, place the club face behind the ball, and step back half an inch so that I am slightly reaching for the ball (or at least it feels like that).
• During the backswing keep right wrist relaxed, cock it back about half way up, and follow the swing through (don't force it, just let the left arm and hand do most of the work).

Tomorrow afternoon I will practice some more, and put in some short game exercises as well: sand shots, chip and runs, putting long and short. Good luck, I'll be thinking of you.

The moment of truth had finally arrived. It was the biggest golfing event of the year, the annual Rijnmond Open Golf Tournament. This was something I had been looking forward to for the whole year. From the championship back tees, playing against the big boys, many of them young low handicappers, less than half my age and less than half my handicap.

There I was going strong with a nice even par thirty-six on the front nine. Just coasting along fine and after thirteen holes still moving smoothly at even par. Only five holes to go, just keep your cool and stay in the zone my friend. Never before since I was a kid had I made it so far along in an official tournament with such a great round of golf at even par.

Trying not to think.

That's when I started thinking. Never do that, it'll kill you off just like that. I started thinking and figured that no matter what might happen, at least I'd break eighty. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Which was my goal for the tournament, to shoot in the seventies, just once. Anything is possible in golf, and the round is never finished until the little white golf ball falls in the eighteenth hole at the very last putt of the day. Nothing can go wrong now.

But it did, unfortunately. Fame and fortune would have to wait for another day ...

It all started with an easy second shot to the par four fourteenth hole, just a half-swing seven iron to the green. Hit the ball a little fat and pulled it slightly to watch it bounce into the left sand trap. Bogie. After that it was down hill all the way. Bogie, bogie, double-bogie and on the last hole a stellar quadruple-bogie eight, right in front of the crowd.

Funny how they even clapped politely when I putted it in for an eight. Little did they realize the terrible mental torture I had been going through, I just smiled and acted as if I was having a really great time. Holding my ball up high and raising my golfing cap to them all in thanks.

From even par to nine over par in only five holes, I wonder how that is possible. I guess I will never know, even if I replay those disastrous shots in mind head over and over and over again.

My final score was: 82 + 85 + 80 = 247 (10 strokes higher than last year).

So I felt pretty darn confident going into today's round for the Monthly Medal tournament. Hitting the ball pretty solid, my swing a fluid arch and my mind clear and ready to kill. A par on the first hole was a good start and got me going just fine. On the second hole I chipped the ball right next to the flag, so I thought. My fellow players yelled great shot, could be real close. Got to the top of the rise and the green was without any balls. We couldn't find my ball anywhere, finally way back behind the green amongst the trees, the ball must have bounced off of a sprinkler head or something. Bogie on two, followed with a par, par going into the par five fifth. Crunched my drive right down the middle splitting the fairway in half, and put my second shot right in front of the green looking at another possible birdie. Shanked that into the lake at an angle of ninety degrees, huh? All shaken up and afraid for another shank, skulled the ball to the left, where somehow I luckily pulled off a shot from the bunker for a one putt double bogie. After that it was down hill. Easy approach on par four nine wedge headed right down the smoke stack but hits half a meter short of the green and spins back into the sand trap, double-bogie there. Shanked another ball on the simple par three eleventh hole for another double-bogie, had only one lousy par on the back nine, how's that possible? Forty-four plus forty-four makes eighty-eight mighty strokes. How can I remain positive? Well, I only lost one ball (that shank in the water) and I didn't have any triple-bogies. Golf sucks again, I think I'm going to quit and take up gardening which is much less stressful.