Meme-d

I got tagged. And by someone I care very deeply for, too. I don't know what it all means, but apparently I'm suppose to write down 6 things about myself that no one else knows. I'm not sure that's a good idea.

I'm also suppose to "tag" six other peoples blogs...kind of like a chain letter or something. I'm against that as well, and seeing that I don't know 6 other blogs...other than the ones already involved in this shindig...it's likely that my branch of the tree will die right here.

I'll think about it, and get back to you.

Dazed and Confused

I know...someone used it for a movie title ( I didn't see it) but it completely describes my mindset after the Singles Championship at BHCC this weekend.

I went into the weekend, as I said in my last post, expecting to struggle a little on the first day, and then improve on Saturday and Sunday. That's how it has worked every year that I have played in this event. But that's not how it went this year...

This year I started off badly and continued to get worse as the weekend went on. By the time it was over I had finished 18th in a field of 21, and the DFL guy didn't show up on Sunday after shooting 90 something on Friday and 1-0-something on Saturday.

How did this happen? I have no idea... The triple-bogie I made to start the day on Saturday certainly didn't help. And the Snowman I made on the 11th hole Sunday, followed by a two stroke penalty - 8, I made on the 14th, kind of made for a long weekend.

And that was the whole problem. Most of the time I didn't play too badly. I should have been 2 over after six holes on Friday, and started off with three pars on Sunday. I just started having these ridiculous holes every once in a while, where I would make double or triple for no apparent reason. Here's what the front side looked like on Friday: par- bogey-par-double(lost ball off the tee)-par-bogey-double-double-par. Did you see the "double-double" thing? On the back side I made three more doubles and finished with three straight pars for a sizzling 89. Two triples on the front side Saturday for a 91 and the aforementioned disasters on Sunday for a 93.

Then last night I went out to play a nice, quiet nine holes with my wife. Left the driver in the bag and used a 4 wood off the tee. I shot 38.

Dazed and confused.

Stepping out this weekend

It's been quite a while since I've posted here, and I'd like to say that I have a good excuse. Unfortunately, I don't. The truth is that I have not been in the hospital, have not been locked up or otherwise incarcerated, and have not forgotten my passwords. I simply have not taken the time to sit down and try to put my thoughts on paper. Or in this case...the blogosphere.

This weekend, however, will be different. This weekend is "The Singles Tournament" at Berkshire Hills Country Club in Pittsfield, MA, and once again I am cleaning up the irons and buying a new sleeve of Pro V's, and trying my luck at this three day tournament.

I've been playing in this tournament for the last 5 years, and though I've never placed near the top of my division, I keep coming back because it's a real test of my ability to control my game and my emotions. The first few years I finished near the bottom; always blowing up badly the first day, scoring somewhere around 90, and then playing better each successive day; giving myself the belief that if I could just eliminate that bad start that I could play with these guys. The last couple of years I've done better, finishing in the middle of the pack. This year my goal is to place somewhere in the top third.

We'll see how it goes.

I'm feeling good about my game right now. Struggling a bit with the driver (aren't we all?), but I'm hitting my irons well and chipping it about as well as I'm capable. So, if I can keep it in the low 80's for the weekend, or possibly, something in the high 70's (which I have never done at BHCC) I should reach my goal...finish out of the money...but in the top third...and have a great time doing it.

I should acknowledge here that my lovely wife, who I absolutely adore, is encouraging me in this adventure, even though it starts on our 16th anniversary! A golf widow on our anniversary...maybe she's giving me a not-so-subtle message. Ya think?

Stay tuned...I'll let you know how it goes.

Rites of Spring

Some people think it's Baseball. The sound of the ball on the bat, the Hot Dog guy, the beer guy. Not in my house. For us it's the spring Re-gripping Party.

Ahh...the smell of Solvent...the stickiness of old grip tape stuck on your fingers...the opportunity to cut yourself using the wrong blade to cut off the old grips. These are the things that starts an old man's blood to boiling...when the yard is still covered with snow, but there's one little corner of the yard where the grass is peeking through, and there's a feeling that Spring is actually going to arrive at some point. Sometime during the Florida Swing I pull out the knife, the tape, and the Solvent, light a fire in the fireplace, and while the wind still blows cold in Western New England, I rip off the old grips and put on the new.

This year is no different. I got up this morning, looked out the window on a blustery, but sunny, early March morning (yep, I did remember to set my clock ahead) and it occured to me that today was the day for re-gripping. I loaded up the woodbox with firewood, checked the TV schedule to see what time the Pods Championship was going to start, made sure there was some cold beer in the fridge, and started looking for my re-gripping supplies. I couldn't find my hook-bladed knife anywhere so I started the process with a straight blade. Didn't take long before I sliced one of my fingers and thought I was done for the day, but I found the hook-blade right where I'd organized it, and got back to work.

So while I watched Stewert Cink crash and burn, and young Mr. OHair (will someone please explain to this young man the correct spelling of his name?) hang on for his second victory, I sat on the couch and pulled the grips off both my and my wife's clubs. Three hours later I had 30 clubs lying, gripless on the floor. It's not the grips that take so long, those are easily removed, it's the old grip tape on top of the build up tape that takes forever. When I was done, I put them away. We'll get to the actual re-gripping another day.

After all...if we did everything today...we wouldn't have anything left to do.

It seems that I, like so many other new bloggers, have disappeared from the Blogosphere.

The truth is there just is not much to write about golf in the Berkshire's these days. That may be because I just don't seem to be very inspired. It could be that there just isn't anything interesting to write about.

It's more likely that it's the damn weather and right now I'm just doing my best to get through the days, hoping the snow will melt, and we can get back to what we do best. Which is to complain about the state of our game.

I just heard from my golf buddy...you know...the one who bailed out on this beautiful winter wonderland and absconded to Miami, where the weather is much nicer. Come to find out that he's only played 6 times in the 6 weeks he's been gone! "What the $%$# have you been doing?" I asked him. "Working" he says. OK he's a writer so I guess he can work anywhere, and being a writer he needs to work when he can, but I was disappointed that he wasn't playing six times a week! I was hoping for a few vicarious birdies...or something.

Just basically unhappy all the way around, I guess.

One ray of hope, in the Berkshire's at any rate. I heard the other day that the Golf Scribe has found a buyer for his site and someone will be continuing the wonderful work that Dom has done over the past few years. I know that a number of people are happy that the Player of the Year competition will continue.

So till next time...I'll be the guy with the snow shovel and the pained expression on his face.

I Should Have Stayed in Seattle.


Nice weather we're having in the Great Frozen North. Just think: Two days ago I was in Seattle, it was not raining and the temperature was around 50 degree's. Golf weather if I have ever seen it. For February at least.

But I had to come back to New England, where today my driveway is under 6 inches of snow and the forecast is for freezing rain the rest of the day.


I'm worried about the greens.


My golfing buddy is still in Miami, where it's in the 80's or something, playing golf every day and complaining that the MGA is forcing him to put his scores in for handicap purposes when he hasn't played in 3 month's.

I can't listen to that. I'm sitting here freezing to death, hitting three foot putts on a piece of Astroturf, and listening to him whine about how his game is rusty, and his handicap is going up.

God hates a whiner.

I can put up with them, though.

After all if I didn't, who would put up with me?

Didn't See Me at the Gym?

Things didn't go well at the gym this week.

Starting off with good intentions, I showed up on Monday. I did 45 minutes on the tread mill at Level 16 (out of 20), at 3.6 miles per hour, and burned up just over 600 calories. Pretty steep inclines at level 16, lowest is 6.5 degrees and the highest is 12 in a random pattern, and after taking a few month's to get to this point, I feel like it's a pretty good workout.

I had tried running some time back, and though I got to the point that I could run 5 k's in about a half an hour, the pounding on this overweight 50-something got to be too much.

So a good start to the week went downhill immediately.

Tuesday was the Primary and so I skipped the Gym so I could vote. Yesterday my excuse was that I had to pack for my trip to Seattle this weekend. Tonight we're taking our Niece and her daughter out to celebrate the daughters birthday, so there will be no gym today either. Tomorrow I'm off to Seattle.

And I'm not even bringing my clubs. I never liked to play in the rain anyway, and it is, after all, Seattle.

Lets hope things will go better next week.