Friday 19 December 2008

60 - No Vokey No Cry...Well Maybe Just A Little...

I have only gone and done it; I’ve turned my back on the Titleist Vokey and bought myself two Mizuno MP-R wedges instead. I feel a little sad, but after the snooping around my blog by the manufacturers of the world most popular golf ball I felt I had to take a stand. It had nothing to do with the fact that the Mizuno clubs got rave reviews in Golf Whine Monthly or the fact that I got them at a knock down price, no Sir!

After searching the internet I found the wedges cost around £90 each and come in all manner of loft and bounce options depending on what you need. Personally, I needed the cheapest I could find to be perfectly honest as I hadn’t budgeted for wedges in my running total. When you need crap at discount prices there is only one place to go; eBay! Boy was there some crap on eBay.

After a couple of weeks searching I was almost ready to give up. The clubs on offer were either brand new and cost the same as in the shops or had been battered into submission by cack-handed municipal hackers who were trying to convince gullible tools that the scrapes, dings and wear actually provided more spin. I know clubs designed to oxidise help increase spin but chrome clubs that have been abused just don’t.

All I was after was a club that had been used for a few months, had been looked after and was being sold because the person was getting a new wedge for Christmas. As I was about to give up my search I found a pair of clubs that were new this year, had been looked after and were being sold because the person was getting new wedges for Christmas. Spooky.

The more observant out there may have noticed I said ‘pair of clubs’. That’s right; I had found two bats that fitted the bill. The seller had a 52* and a 56* up for sale in the same auction and the best part was that they were up for sale at a reasonable price. What’s more, he was even willing to accept a ‘Best Offer’ for them that would save me 18%. It sounded too good to be true but I decided to take a gamble and bid on them.

After a couple of days I received an email saying I was the winner. Result! I paid and then waited for the clubs to arrive. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t best pleased to hear later that day that staff at the main sorting office in Liverpool were planning strike action over the proposed closure of the facility (oh I agree with them 100%, just not when I’ve got golf clubs winging their way to me!!!) but I hoped they would arrive before the staff started sitting around burning oil drums at the main gate.

I got a phone call yesterday saying that a box with Mizuno had arrived. Whoohoo! I was certain that the whole deal was too good to be true and that some battered auld crap would fall out of the box when I opened it but I was delighted to find that the clubs were exactly as described and showed little sign of wear. You can tell they have been used but it doesn’t look like very much, in fact the 52* looks almost brand new. I’m a relieved man.

New, the clubs cost £90 each but I had managed to get two in excellent condition for just £65. I honestly cannot complain. In fact if the clubs had been a bit more battered I STILL couldn’t complain at that price. The face of both clubs is excellent, the grooves are still sharp, the shafts are unmarked and the grips look virtually brand new. I’m a happy camper today but still have a tinge of sadness about turning my back on the Vokey.

Thursday 18 December 2008

59 - New Ball Design Makes It Easy To Get In The Hole...

It looks like Titleist and Callaway might have missed a trick. In their efforts to sue the shit out of each other they may have taken their eye off the (golf) ball. According to the New Scientist website, boffins at the Seoul National University have invented a ball that could help you make more putts…by removing the dimples.

You may know the reason that golf balls have dimples is to help them fly high and far but do you know how they achieve it? The dimples decease drag by reducing the turbulence created by the ball as it flies through the air. They also help increase backspin which sucks the ball upwards as the air passes over them (like the curve of a airplane wing does).

You will need to make more putts with the new golf ball because without dimples there will be more shots from the fairway due to the reduced performance. Or will you? Just because there are no dimples doesn’t mean the ball is smooth, in fact is covered in small grooves (right).

The grooves are arranged in such a way that they still disrupt the air around the ball enough to reduce drag and promote backspin meaning that it should fly just as far and be as controllable as a regular ball but it is on the green where the grooves come into their own.

Because of the way they are spaced, the grooves take up less surface area meaning there is more chance of hitting a smooth part of the ball resulting in a truer connection when finesse is most important. Sounds good to me although I’ve never thought I have missed a putt because I have made a bad connection with the ball.

So are the dimples dead? Is the groove the new God? Who knows? Who cares? I bet Titleist and Callaway will if they can tear themselves away from each other.

Monday 15 December 2008

58 - Is Winter Golf Worth All The Effort?

There was an article in Golf Whine Monthly a while ago about winter golf with some guy singing its praises. It wasn’t me. I’m not a fan of winter golf. Actually that is a lie; I’m not a fan of wet winter golf. I don’t mind the cold, never have done, but I do mind hail and sleet as they are pure evil when you are out in the middle of a field supposedly enjoying yourself.

The other week I had a free lesson from Jason the pro at Widnes Golf Club and while on the third tee, and suitably away from any real shelter, we got hammered by a hail shower. After the downpour had subsided we squelched our way around the rest of the course. It wasn’t pretty. The hail, combined with the rain that morning, had turned parts of the course into something reminiscent of the World War 1 trenches which made walking, let alone playing golf, a chore.

Alan has told me that he doesn’t like winter golf either because whether it is wet or dry the game is always ruined. If it is wet you get soaked and have to dig your ball out of the mud that used to resemble a fairway. If it is cold the final position of the ball could be anywhere as a solid golf ball hitting a rock hard fairway reacts in the same way a football does when kicked against iron railings, namely flying off at all angles but the one you want.

The one advantage to playing in the winter is that the courses, when open, are relatively quiet so you can take your time, enjoy the crisp winter air and rejoice in the four hours of quality ‘man time’ you have – as long as it isn’t raining that is. If the heavens open you can pretend you are Hitler’s mob in the Second World War trying to invade Russia but without the death and general nastiness (there is a lot of war in this post for no obvious reason).

A ready made alternative to the course would be the driving range where there is no mud to wade through, no traipsing around with the bitter wind blowing in your grid whichever direction you’re facing and no miserable auld bastard tutting and sighing behind you because you had the audacity to spend fully 30 seconds looking for a ball in the rough. The problem with the driving range is that everyone has the same idea though.

So what is the solution? Wait for that day when the stars are in alignment, the human sacrifices have been made and the ITV Weather report (sponsored by BMI Baby) isn’t as miserable as Andy Murray at a funeral before venturing to the local municipal? Or visit the driving range an hour before it shuts when there isn’t a queue and aren’t gangs of scally rats arsing around across four bays using three clubs?

For now those questions are academic as my ankle is still sore. Hopefully it will be back in full working order after Christmas which will coincide with the arrival of my new bats. After a break from golf because of injury, the weather and the credit crunch (all though £4’s add up you know) I will be desperate to play but when and where still remains to be seen.

Saturday 13 December 2008

57 - Black Nickel Not Oil Can...

With possible impending legal action from those lovely people at Titleist hanging over my head I’m rapidly going off Vokey wedges despite the fact that they are fantastic. Recently I have been looking around at other makes to see what they have to offer. I need a club that works and, most importantly, looks fantastic (I’m as shallow as piss on concrete).

It seems that the likes of Cleveland, Callaway and Taylor Made make some excellent wedges but so do my latest crush; Mizuno. I know I’ve gone on about them in the past but it does look like Mizuno’s Grain Flow Forged wedges are up there with the very best. The more I read the more I’m convinced.

Anyway, to cut to the chase, I’m gonna plump for a Mizuno MP-R wedge in Black Nickel. They don’t spin as much as the Vokey but what does? What is lost in ultimate spin is gained in control as the Mizuno has something called a C-Grind sole, which basically means that the company asked PGA Pros how they ground the bottom of their clubs for playability and then, erm, copied it.

I may have simplified that a little but that is essentially what those clever chaps in Japan (or the USA if you watch any of the promotional videos) did. It is claimed that because of these extra grinds the club is easier to manipulate around the green, gives more shot options and makes it easier to perform difficult chips.

This type of flexibility is exactly what I’ll need once I graduate from ‘complete golf clown’ to ‘seasoned municipal hacker’ (it is important to have a goal I reckon). Seriously though, even with my knackered ankle I can practice my chipping at the driving range so my stumble on Saturday might be a small blessing in disguise.

I’m going to get a grip of Richie, Terry and Alan (not in THAT way) and get them to show me how to chip the ball properly. After to speaking to them I know that Richie and Terry have spent a lot of time working on their short game and I’ve seen Alan hit the ball perfectly onto the green with a wedge with irritating regularity.

Jason (the Pro at Widnes) showed me the shot that he claims I’ll use on almost every hole I play. I was amazed when it worked and I’m hungry for more success. Hopefully the combination of a decent wedge, some tuition and a lot of practice will result in at least winning the Blue Basket Challenge at the driving range!

Thursday 11 December 2008

56 - Big Brother Is Watching - From Massachusetts...

After writing my last post about the legal battle between Titleist and Callaway I sat back and re-read my little story. My lovely, lovely fiancée asked me what I was reading so I regaled her with the courtroom battle, how patents had been breached, how Titleist were forced to redesign parts of their award winning ball and how in the end it is basically all for nothing (at the moment).

After thinking for a couple of seconds she labelled me ‘sad’ and asked if I had anything better I could be doing with my time instead of gossiping about massive corporations squabbling over golf ball designs that may, or may not, be patented. I thought for a second and answered “no”. As far as I was concerned it was just a little bit of harmless fun. Hmmm…

Later on this evening I checked my stat counter (oh you better believe I have one, I need to know if anyone actually bothers their arse to read this crap) and was alarmed by what I saw. As well as telling me how many people drop by it also tells me roughly who and where they are – don’t worry it just gives me IP details for most people and the city they are visiting from…unless you are a big company.

I noticed a weird entry in the log coming from Fairhaven, Massachusetts in the good ole United States of America from a company called Acushnet. Hang on a minute, that is the company the irrate bloke with the funny name works for, the one who sent the snotty message out to the media explaining what was going on in the case according to Titleist.

Why was this lot suddenly interested in my little corner of the web? Is it something as innocent as the company having a web crawler checking what is being written about them to judge public perception of them or is it something more sinister that will result in me being dragged through the American legal system?

I hope it is the former but if it isn’t it may seriously cloud my view of Titleist and may make me think twice about buying a Vokey wedge. I’m serious; I’ll take my £90 and give it to another manufacturer that doesn’t snoop around little, badly written blogs. Be warned Titleist, BE WARNED!!!

Wednesday 10 December 2008

55 - Meow! Saucer Of Milk To The First Tee Please…

Seeing as I’m temporarily incapacitated due to a recent alcohol induced accident involving some uneven road, my ankle and my ‘built-for-comfort’ frame, I’m spending WAY too much time on the Internet reading about all things golf. There are some good blogs out there with a lot of decent content (which make me feel a bit of a fraud to be honest).

One thing I did read which made me smile was the recent war between Callaway and Titleist over patent infringement. It seems that the Titleist Pro V1, the number 1 ball in golf©, got to where it is with a little help with Callaway, or rather Spalding who Callaway bought in 2003 for a cool $125m. Apparently those nasty men at Titleist used technologies originally dreamt up by Spalding years earlier. Or did they?

According to Titleist, Callaway are talking out of their arse. Yes, the Pro V1’s apparently used these technologies but Titleist claim they had already patented them years before and Spalding shouldn’t have been allowed to put their name to them. Unfortunately for Titleist the case went to court and they lost but they are screaming because evidence that the original Spalding patents were invalid wasn’t heard.

As you can imagine the guys at Titleist were not best pleased at the ruling, especially as they were ordered to stop selling the offending Pro V1’s after 1st January 2009. Hmmm, the number 1 ball in golf© becoming extinct in the New Year? Erm, not quite. While the trial was going on Titleist redesigned the Pro V1 so it didn’t infringe on any patents and will continue to sell their tournament winning balls for the foreseeable future.

The new balls will be distinguished from the old balls by a sticker on the packaging but Titleist claim there is no loss of performance between the old and the new. All this is academic though because the ban is only in the USA and the ball is due for an upgrade any minute now as Titleist bring out a slightly improved ball every two years and plan to release a new one early next year.

So what is the outcome? Titleist are appealing a ruling that prevents them from selling a ball that they no longer sell because of patent infringements on patents they claim they already own that have been bought up by another company that don’t actually use them! That’s right, Callaway don’t even use the patents! Heh heh heh, you couldn't make it up!.

The Chairman and CEO
 of Acushnet (Titleist’s parent company I think), Wally Uihlein 
issued a snotty FAQ regarding the case to the media to clear up the issue and generally give their slant on events. Callaway went one better after running the following add:


All good stuff I’m sure you will agree. So, which balls will you use in the future? I’m sure for a lot of you it’ll be whatever you find in the rough on your local municipal. Me, I’ll be smacking some cheap shit I buy in Sports Soccer up and down the fairways of Kirkby, Bootle and possibly Allerton. Good job Titleist and Callaway continue to produce cutting edge balls eh?

54 - Knackered Ankles and Treacherous Thoughts…

On a recent drinking expedition around the many and varied bars of Liverpool I managed to ‘hilariously’ go over on my ankle. Oh how the lads laughed as tears welled up in my eyes with every electric shock that shot up my leg when I put any weight on my foot. Bunch of bastards. I tried to drink through the pain but it was no good, I’ve knackered my ankle.

The initial diagnosis, admittedly made by a mate who had “been on a health and safety course and done a bit of first aid an that”, was that I had “done my ligaments”. Great news. When asked what I should do I was advised to strap it up, apply liberal amounts of ice and then wait a month until it sorts itself out. And like that, I’m not playing golf again this year.

After four days of rest I can walk on it again but if I twist my ankle, say in the way I would at the end of my now almost perfect golf swing, I get those lovable little electric shocks up my leg again. Typical isn’t it? I finally get some professional tuition, now know what I’m supposed to be doing and I can’t practice. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this game is evil.

Now that I’m not playing I’m back to looking at all the pretty, pretty golf things. I was again drooling over the Titleist Vokey wedges and it got me thinking about Mizuno’s wedge range. It turns out that those clever chaps in Japan have only gone and made a wedge that not only looks as good as the Vokey but is apparently almost as good…no seriously!!!

The Mizuno wedges come in two flavours namely the R Series and the T Series (the R and T stand for Round and Teardrop and refer to the shape of the head with the former having a slightly fuller look while the latter looks more traditional). Both come in two finishes; chrome and a pant tighteningly gorgeous Black Nickel. You can see where this is going…

After a bit of research it turns out that Mizuno are the shit when it comes to grain flow forging club heads which is handy when producing wedges as clubs made in this way are softer and have more feel – exactly what you need according to the experts I’ve been listening to online. They rave about how buttery the wedges feel and how easy they are to use.

In their video review, Today’s Golfer praises the wedges for the quality of the materials (it seems plating the clubs in Nickel makes them more durable and softer than traditional chrome), their cool design and their playability. They are slightly heavier than the other wedges they tested (including the Vokey) meaning that you just need to swing it and it does all the work for you.

New they actually cost about the same as a Vokey but a quick look around shows they can be had at a decent discount, especially by eBay shops (£40 delivered in one place) so they are definitely more attractive to my wallet. I haven’t budgeted for a new wedge or two so the cheaper the better in my opinion.

Do I turn my back on the object of my desire for the last few months for the sake of a few bob? Nah, but I might turn my back on it because the Mizuno is a fantastic iron that looks really, really good, it the same wedge as my clubs and because I won’t feel such a beut using it on the course.

Oh and they make one called the Black Ox which starts off black and rusts to shit like the Vokey! Get in...

Friday 5 December 2008

53 - Counting The Cost...

Right, time to take stock and work out how much I’m gonna need to kit myself out ready for next years rise to Golfing Superstardom. As mentioned previously I’m now almost certainly getting the Mizuno MX-200’s and will no doubt match the rest of the kit to the bats.

A quick scan online shows that the clubs can be found for around £400 with regular steel shafts although in some places it is just 4-PW meaning I’d have to shell out for a hybrid too which is a long term plan that may need to be addressed sooner than I’d have liked.

The new hybrid from Mizuno is something called the Fli-Hi, which got rave reviews from Golf Whine Monthly and can be found for around £90. For the time being I’m sure ‘Dougie’ would be an adequate stand in but I want the new fella in my bag.

A new driver is definitely in order and there is a good chance I could touch lucky with this. The current Mizuno driver is the MX-560, which originally retailed at £300 but is now available at JJB Sport for £170. A quick look at Onlinegolf.co.uk shows that the bad boy can be had for just £80, which is an absolute bargain.

For a similar price I will pick up the award winning Mizuno Twister III bag. There are parts of the bag that can be detached when you don’t need them (namely the big pocket for your waterproofs) meaning that if I’m lucky enough to play somewhere where the sun actually shines I won’t have to break my back lugging it about.

Finally I want a new putter. I’m torn here, do I go for an Odyssey Klingon Warbird like Lucky’s (which is superb) or plump for a Mizuno Bettinardi which consistently receives praise in magazines and blogs? They cost about the same though so I’ll just decide closer the time and add the £120 to the running total.

So, adding it all up I reckon I’m gonna need about £770. Kinell. I already have a war chest in my account but it isn’t £770!!! There had better be some tremendous offers on in the January sales or I’m screwed…

Thursday 4 December 2008

52 - A Hundred Isn't THAT Much For Better Quality...

I haven’t been to the driving range as much as I have wanted to over the last couple of weeks due to a combination of the credit crunch and work commitments. What it means is that I’ve been able to drool over golf porn a lot recently, which is both a good and bad thing at the same time.

I’ve decided that I’m getting a set of Mizuno ‘game improvement’ clubs and until very recently I would happily tell you that it is a set of MX-100’s. Thing is, the more I read about the slightly more expensive MX-200’s the more my head is being turned.

What is the difference between the two sets I hear you cry? Well, apart from about £100, the fundamental difference is that the heads on the 100’s are cast and the 200’s are grain flow forged. Yeah, but what difference does that make I hear you sigh? It is all about feel boys and girls.

Casting the heads makes them cheaper to manufacture (meaning the MX-100’s are the entry level bats from Mizuno) but it also makes them have less ‘feel’. You know what it is like when you hit the ball with the heel of the club and you feel that ‘clunk’? That is similar to what it feels like using clubs with cast heads albeit not quite as bad.

Conversely, grain flow forged heads make hitting the ball sweetly feel like hitting the ball sweetly. They are softer and more rewarding when you hit the sweet spot which, seeing as they are still ‘game improvement’ clubs, is bigger than normal thanks to the weird Y-Tune insert built into the head.

Another difference is the size of the heads. Although both look pretty similar the 100’s are slightly bigger than the 200’s and slightly bigger than traditional clubs as far as I can see which is good initially but as I get better they will look like clowns clubs or summat. It is important how they look, just as Lucky who has spent a fortune on Nike clubs because he likes the yellow and black look!

So the 200’s have the same hazard dodging technology built into them, they are manufactured in a better way, they provide more feedback and they look better. The only problem is the price but I can justify buying them if I don’t buy the Mizuno long iron replacement club, the Fli-Hi, straight away and stick with Dougie Howson for a month or two. Sounds like a plan!

Wednesday 3 December 2008

51 - Bringing A Little Colour Into Your Life...

Well I’ll go to the foot of our stairs, I've now posted over 50 messages on this blog. I honestly didn’t expect it to still be going my December or for me to be still into golf but it is and I am. To mark the occasion I’ve started work on the follow up to this site which will still have the same mix of game reports, golf porn drool and swearing but will hopefully look a little better.

I’ve had feedback that the blog looks good but it is in fact just someone else’s design that I have used. It was originally only supposed to be a temporary solution but it is still here months later. Don’t you think it is a bit too, well, grey? I’ve messed with some of the settings to make the text stand out more but it is still as miserable as a Manchester morning.

No, the only solution is a colourful new site to show off my writing skills (although I’m sure a number of you will think that brown would be an appropriate colour for the shit I spout on here). I’m going to knock up the shiny new gaff in the New Year with my future brother-in-law who is a first class website building smart arse.

Who knows, the new site might see me clean my act up. No more random rants about nothing in particular, properly constructed sentences and no more swearing! Stop sniggering at the back, I could do it…well, I could have a go at doing it! Watch THIS space.

Monday 1 December 2008

50 - Unlikely TV Entertainment And Hot Shots In Singapore…

Lucky was telling me about a show he caught on Setanta Sports which looked like a Pro-Am competition. He saw a big, fat guy dressed head to toe in all the gear on a pristine American course and watched eagerly to see how someone so out of shape could be good enough to take part. The answer seemed to be that this bloke was definitely an ‘Am’ and was utterly useless!

Lucky’s missus couldn’t understand why he almost choked to death laughing when the guy on the TV took a massive divot up and rolled the ball about 15 feet. He started shouting at the screen “I can do that and he is on the telly!!!”. Eventually she told Lucky that he couldn’t be that bad and he just said “oh we have our moments”. The guy then proceeded to dribble hit tee shot into a pond when it was easier to hit the fairway and Mr & Mrs Lucky were in bits.

Conversely, I put Sky Sports on over the weekend and was amazed by the quality of the women playing in the Lexus Cup at the Singapore Island Country Club. It turns out it is LPGA event where Asia take on the Rest of the World. Along with the regular hotties like Paula Creamer there was an decent supply of Oriental eye candy firing the ball further, straighter and more consistently than I could ever dream of.

One player that caught my eye was 21-year-old Na Yeon Choi (above) from South Korea who was as cute as a button and smashed Ms Creamer all over the course in their game on the final day. The score was eventually 3&2 but Creamer was hanging on for about five holes before eventually taking one for the team (she had the last laugh though as the Rest of the World won the competition by a half).

At the other end of the scale from the lovely Ms Choi was an American player called Christina Kim who looked like a Chinese version of Rosanne Barr. Seriously. She is a little, podgy woman who waddled around the course looking like a tourist with a stupid grin on her face. Tell you what; she can’t half play though so kudos to her. In fact it was her who got the final point to win the game for the Rest of the World.

One thing that freaked me out was that the tournament was stopped for and hour and a half as it started raining. Big deal, it started raining, just get your Pak-a-Mac on and head to the next tee. The problem was that there was a very real chance that someone would die as that part of the world is notorious for lightning storms. I may moan about waterlogged fairways from time to time but I’m fairly certain I’ll get off the course alive unlike our friends in Singapore.

Sunday 30 November 2008

49 - Rob Loves Jason (In A Strictly Non-Prison Movie Way)...

With my newly learned skills burning a hole in my, erm, head I arranged to meet Lucky at the driving range. I was desperate to see if the tips Jason had given me could be transferred when he wasn’t about. Lucky is now the proud owner of a set of Nike SUMO irons and was desperate to give them a whack. I wanted to have a swing with his bats too as they are ‘game improvement’ clubs similar to what I’m looking to get.

Lucky was playing 5-a-side before meeting me but said there shouldn’t be a problem spending an hour at the range. As I walked in I saw a problem, namely the state he was in. He looked like he had slept rough and then ran to the range from Rhyl or summat then, as he went to speak, he almost coughed up a lung. I’m not so sure all that running around was doing the little fella any favours!

We found a couple of bays at the end of the range and I started going through what Jason has taught me. I brought a tee with me and used it to line the ball up with my target as part of the G.A.S.P. routine. With everything in place I concentrated on my final position and swung at the ball. The little range ball rocketed off the face of ‘Arthur’ into the chill night air. Lucky instantly commented on how much further I hit it compared to my usual effort. Loving Jason’s work!!!

There were some weird noises coming from the next bay as Lucky tried to swing his driver after an hour of 5-a-side and nursing a sore shoulder…he sounded like a constipated Wookie! In the end he decided that it was just too painful to use the big fella and concentrated on his shiny, new clubs. For a fair few shots it was too painful for me to watch as he screwed up over and over again.

I continued with my G.A.S.P. routine and, true to Jason’s word, slowly but surely it started to feel more natural – even the weird left hand/right hand grip although I’m concerned that I’m probably doing it wrong now! I concentrated on the follow through and turning my body to get extra distance which was working an absolute treat. My only concern is that my accuracy has gone to shit but I’m sure I can get it back with a bit of practice.

Actually I’m talking out of my arse. My accuracy had gone to shit with ‘Arthur’ but with everything else it was ok, with my 7 iron it was fantastic. We had a crack at the yellow basket challenge and usually I use ‘Fivey’ to reach the target. I took a chance when heading to the car and took my 7 iron and ‘Mac’ 56* Knife wedge instead of ‘Fivey’ and ‘Niney’ hoping that the new improved swing would work. Boy did it work.

Normally it takes me five or six shots before I start getting close to the yellow basket but with the G.A.S.P. routine and my full swing I was close to the target from the very start. It was the most consistent I have ever been at the range and it was only a matter of time before I bingoed the target to win. Lucky was struggling to get used to his new clubs but was starting to get a feel for them.

Next it was on to the Blue Basket challenge and a chance to practice the high trajectory chip that Jason explained I would use on almost every hole. I didn’t manage to hit the target but the ground around the basket was littered with yellow range balls which was good to see. I’m gonna concentrate a lot on that shot.

Once we had finished our mini-competition I had a few swings with Lucky’s SUMO ‘game improvement’ clubs. After just a few balls I can see why they are recommended for people like me who are relatively new to the game. It is a lot more difficult to hit a bad shot with the SUMO’s compared to my Callaway’s and the more I used them the more distance and accuracy I was getting. I’m convinced it is the way to go for me.

As I walked to the car my head was spinning again, I didn’t want to leave and was amazed with the difference in my game. I still am rubbish but I could see a definite improvement thanks to Jason. I’m itching to practice more but I’m crazy busy all week, I have to get my priorities in order. Fuck it, the Christmas presents, meeting preparation and management report can wait, I’ve got a swing to practice!!!

Tuesday 25 November 2008

48 - Weirdness in Widnes…

Sunday was the day I received my free golf lesson. I won’t lie I was bricking it. I know, I know, I’m getting free lessons on a private course from a golf pro so I should be excited as a kid at Christmas but the fact of the matter I wasn’t looking forward to it. The reason for the apprehension is simple; I’m shit.

I hate the fact that after all the hours of practice I’ve put in I’m almost as bad as the first time I went to the driving range in September. I was hoping that Jason (the lovely, lovely pro at Widnes Golf Course) could wave a magic wand and help me improve overnight. The bad news is that he couldn’t, the good news is that he has shown me some things that will hopefully help me become better with practice.

I set my alarm for 9 o’clock (on a Sunday!!!) but I woke up at 6 for some strange reason. The strange reason turned out to be hail stones the size of Pro V1’s smashing against my bedroom window. Hmmm, this was going to be a good day. I got up a couple of hours later and checked to see if the hail had stopped. It had…only to be replaced by rain coming down in horizontal sheets as thick as Colin Montgomery’s big, fat belly.

I sent a quick text to Terry (who arranged the lesson) to confirm that we were still going but didn’t hear anything so I dragged my carcass to the bathroom to get ready. I had spent a lot of time the night before ironing all my swanky golf gear (“like a sad bastard” I hear you shout) so I at least looked the part even if I was as much use as training shoes on Stephen Hawkins.

I hauled my bats to the car through the rain and wind and headed down the motorway. The car was being blown from lane to lane and my wipers were doing ten to the dozen. Oh I was looking forward to playing on a presumably difficult course, in the howling wind and rain with the eyes of a golf pro on me scrutinising my every move!

I picked up Terry and we headed to the course. As I was getting my stuff together Terry went in to see Jason to check that we could still play seeing as the weather was so bad. I turns out that the course had just opened as the weather had broken so we were ok to head off. At this point I wanted to be anywhere else in the world, I REALLY wasn’t up to playing but I gritted my teeth and headed for the first tee.

Terry and Jason smashed their drives miles into the distance then it was my turn. Jason asked me to tee off and he would check what I was doing. Knowing that I was going to slice the shite out of it with ‘Arthur’ I decided to play it safe and use ‘Dougie’ the hybrid. I got myself ready, took a deep breath and promptly hooked my ball into the rough about 150 yards away. Class.

As we walked through the trees, looking for my kangaroo marked Nike ball I reflected on how empty and tidy the course was, a real change to what I’m used to which is, of course, a scall infested municipal littered with crap. On reflection though I can’t really afford the £750 annual membership fee so I’ll have to put up with the odd rusty Stella can on the greens and kids on motorbikes tear-arsing across the fairway.

True to form I lost my first ball on the first hole but we did find three in the process of looking for it including a Titleist Pro V1 so it is swings and roundabouts I reckon. I didn’t realise it at the time but Jason must have been studying me like Harold Shipman studied a rich widow. Everything I did was apparently being analysed as when we got to the 2nd tee he was ready with advice.

It seems I have been gripping the club almost completely wrong from day one. Jason got me to grip the club in a weird and totally unnatural way (for me anyway) and then swing. My shot was garbage but the pro seemed pleased which confused me. He explained that the final position of the ball wasn’t important today; it was all about getting my setup and swing right.

I used to go through a little routine before hitting the ball but it has slipped a little recently. Jason insisted that I start doing it again as if I didn’t get my setup right there was no chance of hitting the ball consistently which is one of the most important things in golf. Time to get my G.A.S.P. on. What is G.A.S.P. Rob? Well I’ll tell you.

G.A.S.P stands for Grip, Aim, Stance, Position and is the four things I will now check religiously before hitting the ball. What you have to do is ensure your grip is correct, check you are actually aiming at the target, sort your feet out so they are square with the ball and usually at shoulder width and then check the ball is in the correct position between your feet for the club you are using.

It sounds a bit of a ball ache but after a few holes it became second nature if not completely straightforward or comfortable. To be honest, it is the things I SHOULD be doing anyway but haven’t. With Jason’s help and patience I learned the importance of getting it right EVERY time and slowly started to reap the rewards.

Another thing he showed me was one of the shots I’d be using time and time again; the high trajectory chip. And Jason is a guy with class; he uses Vokey wedges…get in my son!!! He showed me how to set up to hit the ball, showed me where my body weight should be and showed me how my arms should swing through the ball. Then Terry showed us both something, namely some bushes to hide in to get out of the sudden hailstorm that almost did for my ears.

Once I had G.A.S.P. sorted Jason moved on to my non-existent follow through. He filmed me on his phone and then ran some funky software that showed that my setup was good, my backswing was ok but I didn’t shift my weight forward and follow through after hitting the ball. This is a big problem if you want the ball to fly any distance apparently.

He asked me to go through the G.A.S.P. routine without a ball in front of me and then turn towards the hole so my chest was square with it. As I did my right heel automatically came up and I was in a pose I recognised from the telly but felt strange doing. Jason explained that I should end up in this position for most of the shot I make.

Time to put all the theory into practice. I teed the ball up and went through my G.A.S.P. routine. I took a deep breath and, concentrating on my final position, swung at the ball confident that I was going to hit a peach. What I actually hit was the green diagonally across from us as I sliced the shit out of my shot. I was absolutely gutted but put on a brave face. I genuinely felt that I had let Jason down and that all his hard work was in vain.

When he came back with my ball I went to apologise to Jason for fucking up so spectacularly but before I could he said that he was pleased with the shot. Eh? He explained that I got all the G.A.S.P. checks right, swung through the ball well and ended in the correct final position. The only thing that wasn’t ok was the actual shot but he assured me that would come with practice.

He gave me the ball and asked me to do the same thing again. I was now a bag of nerves but went through the whole routine again. This time I smashed the ball for what I thought was miles down the fairway! Not only that but the shot was straight and where I aimed it! Jason is a genius! I swaggered down the fairway to my ball, my chest swelled with pride.

When we got to the ball I found I was only a few yards behind Terry who was only a few yards behind a certified pro! Those two were good players using VERY expensive drivers whereas I was a clown with a £10 recovery club yet I was almost matching them. That shot was a milestone in my golfing life and made me hungry and determined to play more and more. Of course I fucked up my next shot but that is beside the point.

We carried on around the course with Jason helping tweak my game all the time. I told him that he must have the patience of a saint to put up with the likes of me but he just smiled and explained that he is doing something that he loves.

I’m not sure if he loved our entire round together seeing as I’m rubbish, it was 10 o’clock on a Sunday morning, it was close to freezing out on the course and we were regularly getting soaked by driving rain or pummelled by hail stones! The hail was so bad on what turned out to be our last hole that the green turned white and we had to hide in a shelter for 5 minutes.

After I putted for the final time I shook Jason’s hand and thanked him for being kind enough to give me a free lesson and putting up with my grunts, swearing and terrible shots. I thought he had been so cool that I hugged him. I think he appreciated the hug although when I let go I did notice that his eyes were screaming with terror. Bless.

We walked back to the car in our soaking wet clothes and I suddenly felt drained. As we got to the car park Jason’s next lesson arrived. He was about to go back out on the course in the driving rain/sleet/hail and try and help some other bloke who would struggle with Crazy Golf let alone the real thing. I’ll tell you something; he must REALLY love his job.

As I drove back to Terry’s to drop him off my head was spinning with everything I had learned. I was itching to get to the driving range with Lucky to show him what I had picked up but in the end I was exhausted and he couldn’t be bothered (I can always rely on Lucky!)

I had hit just two good shots all morning but that wasn’t the point. Jason had given me the foundation I needed to build upon, now it is up to me to pull my finger out practice until it is all second nature.

Friday 21 November 2008

47 - Salmon Pink, Tangerine And Other Manly Colours...

With the big day approaching (I’m talking about my lesson’s with the lovely pro at Widnes golf course not the imminent exit of that whining skank Rachel from the X Factor – ahem) I decided to go on a mini shopping spree to make sure I’m all set for the game. I have the majority of stuff needed but could do with a few ‘essentials’.

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I have stocked up on golf balls. Richie told me when I first started playing that until I’m any good it doesn’t really matter what balls I use. With this in mind I pored over magazines, scoured the Internet and decided I needed Titleist Pro V1’s as they provide the distance off the tee and control around the green a player like me demands. Then I saw they were £32 a dozen. Fuck that.

So there I was, on the first tee at Kirkby with my £10 a dozen Callaway Warbird’s with the cross of St George proudly emblazoned on them and my silly little kangaroo drawn on the bottom. Needless to say, I’ve played five rounds in total now and they have all gone, lost to rough, trees and swamps. RIP little Callaway’s. To be honest I’ve lost a load of shite Dunlop’s too but I’m not that arsed about them. Oh and some new Slazenger B52’s.

So I needed some new hazard finding missiles and wasn’t going to pay too much for them. A quick look around Sports Soccer (or whatever it is called, you know the place, in the corner of Speke retail park – I’m not going through all that again) and I found some luminous yellow Donnay balls at a very reasonable price. I’m not THAT fucking stupid so I bought two-dozen Nike NDX distance balls instead.

As it is now November I need some warm gear to play in. I had a choice; top of the range, breathable, waterproof gear from some Scandinavian manufacturer that makes expensive stuff exclusively for golfers or some long sleeve polo shirts. I’m now the proud owner of two long sleeve polo shirts…although they aren’t exactly what I paid for.

I went on to my favourite online golf emporium and notice they had a cool 3-for-2 offer on certain golf shirts. After a bit of perusing I chose a plain white shirt, a black shirt with some rather fetching pink pinstripes and a funky looking ‘tangerine’ Callaway short sleeve top (it was like a dark, rust colour on the picture). Hmmm, everything is not really as it should be.

The package arrived and my white shirt is present and correct. It goes a bit Pete Tong after that though. Instead of sending a black shirt with pink pinstripes I’ve actually got a pink top with black stripes. Very fetching I’m sure you can imagine? Actually, it reminds me of the salmon pink Everton away kit from the 90’s so I’m keeping it. The Callaway shirt isn’t a dark rust colour it is, as advertised, tangerine. Again, very fetching and again I’m keeping it!

To be honest, the only place two of these tops will ever be worn is at the private course at Widnes as I fear for my safety turning up at a municipal in a salmon pink top. The scalls in their England shirts, Lacoste tracksuit bottoms and Reebok Classic’s would literally tear me limb from limb…especially when they see how shit I am. They will think I’m taking the piss out of them (if they are capable of coherent thought that is?)

So when I turn up to play at Widnes with the pro I’m going to look like what can only be described as a twat. Couple this with the fact that I’m useless and have had almost no practice for the last few weeks and you can understand the day can’t come quick enough for me!!! This is going to be a car crash.

Saturday 15 November 2008

46 - £250 Off? Every Little Helps...

I hate being confused, which is a shame as golf confuses me daily. The latest head wrecker is the new clubs I’m going to get after Christmas. I’ve pretty much decided that I’m plumping for a set of Mizuno MX-100’s as they tick a lot of the boxes on my wish list. They are relatively cheap, they are ‘game improvement’ clubs and they have received good reviews in the magazines.

So what is the problem Rob? The problem is that I’ve just been to The American Golf Shop and found that I can pick up a brand new set of Callaway Big Bertha’s for a hundred quid less than the Mizuno’s. A set of Callaway irons (4-SW) for £269 (RRP £600), which are ‘game improvement’ clubs that have received good reviews in the magazines.

Hmmm. After a bit of research the deal isn’t quite as good as it first sounds. The Callaway’s are actually Big Berta 06’s meaning they have been about for around three years and aren’t exactly at the cutting edge when it comes to club technology. Although saying that, they aren’t exactly budget shite knocked up by a no name manufacturer from behind the former iron curtain either.

One of the reason’s I am getting a new set is to take advantage of the developments that have been made in club design in a desperate attempt to get better at this Goddamn game. So, do I choose the slightly older but almost certainly better quality Callaway’s or the brand new, totally up to date Mizuno’s?

The question gets more complicated with the aid of Google. A quick search shows that I can get my chubby little mitts on the Mizuno’s for a tenner more than the Callaway’s, which makes them even better in my eyes. Decisions, decisions.

Actually, what I think I’ll do is wait until the January sales and see what the shops have on offer. The imminent recession should help me get more for my money as the stores desperately clamour for cash that may well not be there. “£350 for those bats? Pah! What can you do? I want money off, I want custom fitting, I want a discount on hybrids and woods oh and throw in some other free shit”.

Come to think of it, American Golf actually do most of that with the Callaway’s and I bet if I turned up with an envelope stuffed with cash they would do it with the Mizuno’s too. For fuck sake, I’m back to square one.

Friday 14 November 2008

45 - Practice Makes Permanently Shit...

As I’m getting some free lessons from a genuine golf pro I thought it only fitting to practice my bad habits fully so he can show me where I’m going wrong (I know, I’m a giver). There was only one thing for it, a trip to the trust driving range. A couple of texts later and Alan was in. After goading Lucky, he decided to come too in an attempt to teach me a lesson or summat.

It is fair to say that after a lack of golf for a few weeks I was rustier than Christopher Reeves auld wheelchair. I couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with a banjo. ‘Arthur’ was all over the place with me managing to hook the shit out of the ball and slice it widely with annoying regularity. Thankfully ‘Dougie’ Howson was as reliable as a Volkswagen. Shot after creamy shot flew long and straight into the freezing night air.

It took me a good 15 balls to hit one good shot with ‘Fivey’ which had me more worried than usual. I could spot some obvious mistakes like slicing the ball a few feet away because I was standing too close to it but other mistakes had me baffled. Why am I finding it SO hard to hit the ball in the sweet spot? Why to I almost break my fingers with another shot off the toe or rattle my fillings out as the heel cracks the ball. I changed everything I could but was still all over the place.

I had a bit more joy with ‘Mac’ the Knife 56* wedge. I showed Lucky’s lad how to chip the ball high with the wedge but then couldn’t do the shot myself. After a few minor adjustments I was back on track, firing balls 20 feet down the range covered in snow (not literally you understand – as soon as it starts snowing I will be making snowballs to throw at the North Face wearing scalls who litter our streets – ahem).

After the warm up me, Alan and Lucky started the Blue & Yellow Basket Challenge. We were all over the place at first but Alan was the first to find his range as he peppered the baskets with crappy yellow golf balls. Soon after, Lucky got his act together and missed the target by inches a few times to howls of derision from the stocky ball of fury. I never got close. At all.

Eventually Alan bingoed ‘Big Yeller’ to win the long game but we all failed to chip into the blue basket despite it being within pissing distance (if I would have had a full bladder after a few pints obviously). I came away from the range happy to have smacked a few balls and met my mates but nervous about how crap I have gone. The pro is going to have his work cut out…

Wednesday 12 November 2008

44 - The Prospect Of Professional Help Is Scary...

I received an interesting phone call the other day. A friend of mine, and avid Robs Adventure In Golf blog reader, rang to say that he had arranged for me to get a bit of professional help. I instantly thought I was going to get sectioned (or be forced to spend a few hours with a primary school English teacher to help with my atrocious punctuation and sentence structure as displayed all over this little corner of the internet).

Thankfully it turns out Terry had arranged for me to play nine holes with the pro at his local track in Widnes. Nicely done!!! It seems that Terry has been printing of my stuff and showing it to the pro at his private course who has been laughing at my pathetic attempts to play the hardest son-of-a-bitch game ever devised by man. I’m not sure if it is pity or just a morbid curiosity to see if I’m THAT shite but the pro has decided to help me out.

I have to meet Terry at 10 a week Sunday so he can show me the course then we tee off at 10:30. After slicing my first tee shot I’ll no doubt be teeing off again at 10:31. Ahem. As I am a guest of Terry I’m going to be on my best behaviour. I won’t be swearing as the ball flies arrow-like into the trees, I won’t be throwing my 7 iron down the fairway after scuffing another shot and I won’t be sobbing like a girl as I miss another easy putt.

Joking aside I’m actually really nervous about the whole thing. Apparently Terry is a really good player (I’ve never subjected him to 18 holes of torture) and the pro is, well, a pro so I’m going to look a complete and utter fucknugget even if I do what I would consider as ok. I know I’m kinda missing the point as I’m there to learn but never the less it is still putting the shits up me. Put it this way, I’m so confident of failure that I’ve just bought 24 new balls!!!

Then again, I could have a couple of hours tuition, work out where I have been going wrong and suddenly elevate myself from ‘absolutely useless’ to the heady heights of ‘just shit’. Stop sniggering at the back, it could happen.

At the end of my session I hope to have had a good morning on a nice course and come away with some tips on how to improve my game. Actually, I’ll be chuffed if the pro can just get me to hit the same shot consistently even if it isn’t perfect, at least that way I have got something to build on. My motto is ‘aim low, you haven’t got as far to fall’ – I’m an ambitious guy.

Terry has also offered to sign us in sometime in the future so me, him, Richie and Lucky can have a pairs competition at his nice course. With that in mind the worse thing that will happen during my soiree is that I’ll have the inside scoop on the first nine holes of course which might just give me the tiniest advantage over Lucky when we commence battle. Chances are though, it won’t make a blind bit of difference!

Tuesday 11 November 2008

43 - Second Annual (Drunken) Tiger Woods Challenge...

After the overwhelming success of the first Annual Tiger Woods Drunken Challenge we decided to make it a regular thing. The premise is simple; four players take on one of the beautifully rendered courses on EA Sports Tiger Woods 09 on the Playstation 3. The kicker is that we all, as raging piss heads, drink our way around the course until the last few holes become a blur. It is a laugh!

Kev was the host with the most last time so I decided to step up and hold the second event at my gaff on Friday 7th October with a strict tee time of 19:30. There was no danger of anyone missing the start of the game as I also got mugged into being the fucking taxi service for the game too (as well as waitress, chef and chief pot and bottle washer).

There was a real incentive to do well in this round of the league as Paddy decided to donate a ‘fine’ trophy to be presented to the winner…but he forgot to bring it so that was that. The other incentive was to beat Kev ‘Man Citeh’ Long who had been sledging everyone with access to Facebook, explaining in detail how hard he was going to spank our arses (I hope he was just talking about the game).

The game started after we’d all selected our characters and the course. Again I went John Daley, Kev went Vijay Singh, Pat went Ian Poulter (resplendent in his tartan kecks) but Richie changed this time around and selected Jim Furyk. Was this tactics from Richie? Nah, apparently he just fancied a change.

Because Kev had been practicing SO much in an effort to eek out any advantage we decided to use the random course generator which would select 18 holes from all the courses available meaning that the first could be at St Andrews, the second at Sawgrass etc. This should make the game a bit more unpredictable and hopefully a bit more enjoyable. We also knocked all the settings up a little to make it a bit harder.

The game started and Kev roared to an early lead. The rest of us were playing catch up and I was doing worryingly bad. We discovered that Poulter can drive the ball as far as Daley and that Kev’s practice was paying off. Richie was doing surprisingly well seeing as he hasn’t actually got a copy of the game. We also learned that putting ‘Sweet Caroline’ on by Neil Diamond was a mistake as everyone stopped playing as started singing…

Kev was playing cautiously, learning from our mistakes but this would fail spectacularly on a tricky par 4 a few holes in. The hole in question was at Wolf Creek, a spectacular track plonked in the middle of a desert mountain range. The greens and fairways seem to have been lifted from another course and placed in the gaps between the peaks. It is a brilliant course.

The par 4 was relatively short, but not quite drivable because the green was behind a mountain peak! It was a classic dog-leg right but I knew it could be made if you hit the right shot. I went first and curled the ball around the peak and into a bunker protecting the green – job done in my book. Kev watched my shot and hit his ball up the fairway giving him a fairly long shot onto the green. Richie, bless him, fucked up two shots before ending up next to Kev. Then it was time for Paddy to shine!

The youngest player showed he had balls as big as Colin Montgomery’s gut as he blasted his tee shot high over the peak and onto the green. Well played Sir! Both me and Paddy pulled shots back, cutting Kev’s lead. Was this a turning point in the game? Erm, no. Kev continued to play well, keeping just ahead of me and a few shots ahead of Paddy who was playing erratically to say the least. A par on one hole followed by an eagle on the next – he was spectacularly inconsistent.

The game went on for an further hour and as it drew to a close Kev had a three shot lead with two holes to go. It was all over bar the shouting. I just kept plugging away knowing that there was always a chance he could screw up a tee shot or miss an easy putt. Amazingly Kev had a wobble and parred the 17th while I eagled it meaning I was just one shot behind with one hole to play.

The last hole was a par 5. I hit a decent tee shot and was on the green in two albeit about 60 feet from the hole. Unfortunately Kev was also on the green in two and was closer to the hole but still about 30 feet from the pin. I was first to putt and took my time lining it up. This extra time paid dividends as my ball plopped into the hole for an eagle! All Kev had to do was two putt for the win but the nerves got to him and he fucked up…twice! Victory was mine and Kev was absolutely gutted.

Paddy, ever the gentleman, took great pleasure in rubbing Kev’s face in it for about half an hour before we decided to have another round of the competition. I won’t lie; the second round is a blur as the ale made its merry way through my system. What I do remember was eagling the first and never looking back. Kev and Paddy were hilarious with there posing, sledging and celebrations after each good shot. By this time Richie was simply bladdered!

At the end I won by a few shots but the real drama was the battle for second. Paddy, like me earlier, pulled it out of the bag to snatch a draw with Kev on the last hole. This wasn’t satisfactory for either of them though so we had a play-off. Best out of three would sort the men from the boys. Actually, all it did was show just how close the two of them were. In the end we were adding all kinds of clauses to get a winner. ‘First in a bunker loses’, ‘first in the rough loses’ etc.

Eventually, after what seemed like about 10 holes Paddy made the break through and snatched second place from a now distraught Kev. Paddy was almost as unbearable in victory as Kev had been in the build up before hand. The two of them are different sides of the same coin!

Overall it was a good night, the ale flowed, the game was good and no-one died. Kev has vowed to take revenge in the next round of the league where we are playing for the prestigious Saxon Way medal. I can’t wait and I suspect I’m not alone…

Wednesday 5 November 2008

42 – Sowing The Seeds Of Doubt…

After drooling over the new equipment being churned out by all and sundry I have convinced myself that a new set of bats is what I need. I have a dilemma though – can someone who is shit buy expensive clubs? Well of course they can. Should someone who is shit buy expensive clubs? Ah, that is a toughie in my opinion.

Is there anything worse that a beut with, as the guy on Bootle golf course said to me, “all the gear but no idea”, rocking up and hacking his way in front of you for five hours? I don’t wanna be that guy. There is a world of difference between paying £50 for a pair of gleaming white shoes and £500 for a set of unfeasibly shiny clubs…or is there? I’m confused.

Here is the thing though, I want to improve and I want to eek out any advantage I can which could mean buying bats more suited to my shitty game. The clubs I have now are Callaway Steelheads X16 which are supposed to be pretty good and I’m sure, in the hands of someone with a little talent, they will perform admirably. Is the problem me or the clubs? I’m betting it isn’t the clubs that got 9.5/10 in a Guardian review a few years ago.

Actually, that might be a point. The review I just dug up was from 2003 which means that by now the Callaway’s could be completely out of date in terms of technology and design although clubs don’t change that much in five years surely? I know there is an arms race when it comes to drivers but clubs are just, well, clubs aren’t they? Maybe not.

The mags keep banging on about ‘game-improvement’ clubs which make it easier to hit consistent shots more of the time. That sounds right up my street seeing as the only consistent thing about my golf at the minute is my inconsistency. It may sound up its own arse but it is true, I’m finding it difficult to hit the same shot twice.

So I should plump for a set of ‘idiot proof’ clubs until I improve and then get a better set. I can justify it to myself as I know I’ll play more if I’m enjoying it and the fact I’ve just spent a bomb on the things will make me get my moneys worth out of them. But in the back of my mind I would be conscious of being that tool on the first tee that everyone is sniggering at because he thinks he can just buy his way into the game.

Maybe a set of second hand clubs would be a good compromise but yet again I’d be using old technology? Christ on a bike, I haven’t been this confused since the first time I saw a diagram of a lady’s fun parts in a biology book.

Tuesday 4 November 2008

41 - Pretty Coloured Holes and Gemma Atkinson…

I’ve been away, did you miss me? No? Bastards! I’ve been on a training course to learn how to ‘Maintain and Administer a Windows 2003 Server Environment’ – it was as interesting as it sounds – so I haven’t had much time to play golf. Actually, I have had NO time to play golf. I have had a chance to read Golf Whine Monthly though which is turning me on more and more.

From the looks of things the new equipment for next year is released in the autumn meaning the magazines are filled with obscenely attractive woods, shiny new clubs, pornographic wedges, alien looking putters and funky arsed bags. Some of the pages of my magazines are stuck together…but I don’t really want to go into that right now.

Golf clubs look good in my opinion. I like the shape of simple blade clubs, the minimalist design and the focus on the materials. Tell you what though, cavity backed clubs are the fucking shit! Have you seen some of the stuff coming out? The fact that there is a gaping wound in the back of the club seems to inspire the designers to go mad…or to just fill them with pretty colours to hoike in the morons. Hmmm…

Needless to say, just about every manufacturer has a new set of woods, irons, putters and wedges for 2009. All look fantastic but some more fantastic than others. By now you lot must know that I can’t go a whole article about equipment without talking about the Titleist Vokey wedges.

I have dark thoughts when I think of the Vokey; I want them more than Gemma Atkinson (right - feel free to click on the image for a better look) oiled up wearing nothing but a smile! Actually that is bollocks.

I need a cold shower…and a 56* Titleist Vokey with the oil can finish. If everyone who read this blog gave me £1 it would go some way towards me buying one. Unfortunately, seeing as there are only about five of you out there reading it, it would be a very short way. Never mind, I can see a Christmas present to myself coming up.

Anyway, not only does the Vokey look the absolute business, it is also the best wedge you can buy according to Golf Whine Monthly. In a recent group test with five other wedges from the likes of Callaway and TaylorMade it stood head and shoulders above the competition to receive one of the highest marks ever given. Due to the extra choice of shaft stiffness it has gone from one of the very best to THE very best.

See, and you lot thought I wanted one because it has a cool bronze finish which wears away until the club starts rusting to give it a battered ‘junk yard dog’ look. Ooops, I think I need another cold shower…

Wednesday 22 October 2008

40 - Doogie On Form Giving Arthur A Break...

Tonight I went the driving range with Paul (not Lucky) and for the first time in the last couple of months it didn’t piss down with rain. I know, I can’t believe it either! It wasn’t perfect though, it is starting to get too cold to play in a short sleeve top now but you can’t have everything, can you? Stop whining you tart!!!

The last couple of visits haven’t been good for ‘Arthur’. He is going wild again so I have decided to go back to basics and practice with my long irons as I have been using them off the tee recently to give me a second shot from the fairway.

Instead of using my 3 iron I decided to give ‘Doogie’ (the name I’ve given to my Howson Hybrid – Doogie Howser…Doogie Howson, geddit?) a go. Fuck me; I was rustier than Chris Evan’s sack tonight. It took 12 balls before I got to ball above waste height and over 100 yards.

Eventually it came back to me and I remembered why I was so impressed with my £10 club. It only takes a gentle swing to get the ball flying into the night air. Good stuff. For the first time ever though I was hooking the ball! I know it is a crap shot but I was nearly crying at not slicing it any more!

After the warm up (where I managed to nearly snap the pole holding the 100 yard marker sign with a fearsome drive) me and Paul got on to the serious business of the Blue and Yellow Basket Challenge! It has been a while since I found the net in these games but tonight I Sally Gunnelled a cracker to bingo Big Yeller! Kerching! I was back in the game.

On to Little Bluey. Paul had brought his TaylorMade 56* wedge with him and was plopping the ball nicely around the basket, getting closer and closer each time. I was using ‘Niney’ with the quarter swing chip Alan taught me and was all over the place. Then suddenly it clicked and I found my range. A few shots later and I had done the double capturing the Blue Basket Crown to go with the Yellow one I picked up earlier.

I went back to ‘Doogie’ for some more practice and got a good bit of advice from Paul. He explained that addressing the ball a little further back would mean I would be making contact as the club face was moving up which would help lift the ball into the air and eek out a few more yards. Sounded too simple to work but fuck me, it did! I used the last of my balls moving the club back and forwards experimenting. Interesting, I will try this out more next time.

Paul still had a few balls left so I stood in his bay and had a look at his 56* wedge. It was easy to see the difference in quality between his club and my £10 ‘Mack the Knife’ from JJB Sport. After a few chips which almost found the target without much effort I was convinced that better equipment produces better results. I’m more determined than ever to buy a Titleist Vokey now…

Tuesday 21 October 2008

39 - Thouroughly Entertained For a Change...

The latest copy of Golf Whine Monthly found its way into my possession the other day and for the first time ever it thoroughly entertained me. Is this a sign that I’m now getting into golf enough to understand everything they are banging on about? Does it show that I’m eager to learn about what is happening in the world of golf? Or could it be that there is a new Titleist Vokey wedge out and they had pictures of it? You decide…

This year’s Vokey wedges come with three new shaft stiffness’s giving the range increased variety and making them more accessible to players of varying ability. The faces of the club are still ‘spin milled’ meaning the ball rotates faster than if struck with an average wedge which, in theory, gives the player more control.

But fuck all that, they still do the little beauty with an ‘Oil Can’ finish. I swear I get a semi on just thinking about the bronzed little minx! Interestingly they still do it boring arsed ‘Tour Chrome’ but now it also comes in pornographic ‘Black Nickel’. Oooh, it is almost as nice as the junkyard dog…I think I want one of both.

On the subject of new clubs there was an interesting letter from some clown who is as bad as me asking should he stick with the auld clubs he inherited a few years ago or invest in some new bats. The answer was simple; new ‘game-improvement’ clubs will provide more forgiveness and playability and help reduce handicaps. I’m sold.

Not only do the good people at Golf Whine Monthly say I need some shiny new clubs they also give a list of the best ones to buy. They reckon the Wilson Di9’s or the Mizuno MX-100’s (pictured above) are great and are available for under £400 which is a definite plus. They also mention some clubs I have already talked about on this blog; the TaylorMade Burner Plus and Ping’s Rapture V2 but they are crazy expensive.

In summary; the Wilson’s look cheap, the Mizuno’s look great (and have a blue highlight to them - nice), the TaylorMade’s look too up their own arse and the Ping’s look fucking awesome. At this moment the Mizuno’s seem a pretty good bet, especially as they are just £50 a club (this compares well when put up against the Ping’s which are over a ton a bat)! I can either buy a full set of the Mizuno’s or half a set of the Ping’s. Decisions, decisions…

Finally, there was a reply to the crying cunt who travelled all the way to Portugal to play on some swanky course but was pissed off because there were villas lining some of the holes. He said it made the place look like a posh housing estate but a couple of residents wrote in to call him a whining bastard. To be honest I agree with them. Like I said at the time, just get on with spanking the piss out of the ball and enjoy yourself for fuxake.

Monday 20 October 2008

38 - First Annual (Drunken) Tiger Woods Challenge...

I have always enjoyed the social side of golf. I have, in the past, been a guest at the Woolton Golf Society Presentation Night and enjoyed myself enormously…mainly because when it comes to drinking I am not bad, not bad at all. So when the first annual (drunken) Tiger Woods Challenge night was proposed I was in like Flynn!!!

We decided to pile around to Kev’s (Alan’s lad and my best mate) to have a four way game of Tiger Woods 09 on the Playstation 3. If you haven’t played TW09 you are missing out as it is simply brilliant. On the PS 3 it looks amazing and is easy enough to pick up and play but just difficult enough to keep you on your toes.

Along with me and Kev were Richie and an old friend called Paddy. Paddy is a good few years younger than us and has played TW in its earlier guises so we all thought he was the dark horse, the one to beat. Also there was Gaz who, if you remember from a previous post, is going to provide security for Robs Irregular Golf Society. It is good to have some security when playing a game as violent and aggressive as golf.

With the competitors ready, the characters selected (I was playing as John ‘ice-cream’ Daly, Kev was Vijay ‘Dev’ Singh, Richie was Colin ‘Doubtfire’ Montgomery and Paddy was Ian ‘Le Tissier’ Poulter) the game loaded and with can’s in hand we started. Then we stopped again to change the settings as Kev was using the metric system and no cunt could work out how far 156 meters actually was or how much compensation was needed when there was a 3 kilometre cross wind. Setting changed, we started!

Almost predictably Paddy pulled out an early lead. Four birdies in five holes had him comfortably in the lead with ‘slow and steady’ Richie in second and me and Kev miles behind after swapping double-bogeys and generally being shite. Then the arse fell hilariously out of Paddy’s round as he mortared two of his tee shots into the ocean and began a slippery slope to the bottom. Richie “you have to play all 18 holes” was now in the lead with me and Kev clawing shots back.

As the drink flowed the game got more and more raggered with Richie dropping shots with his cautious play, Paddy screaming at Kev for telling him the wrong buttons to press and me trying to outdrive everyone at the expense of staying on the course at times. The inevitable sledging began with Paddy and Kev almost coming to blows at one point over a scream of “PANCAKE!” (no, I don’t know what it means either).

As the game went on, Paddy got shitter and shitter hitting some of the worst shots ever seen on a video game. This was partly down to his dubious ability and partly down to Kev who was winding him up something rotten. Richie was still playing safe, consistent golf but it wasn’t enough as me and Kev blasted past his score.

I was impressed with Kev, he was much better than I was expecting as he claimed he had only played the game a couple of times before. But as Harold Shipman once said, ‘the truth will out’. After speaking to lovely Sharron, his preggers fiancĂ©e, it turns out that he had been practicing since 7:30 that morning in order to get an edge. Tut tut tut…he was almost bringing the game into disrepute!

After some good golf (not from Paddy to be honest) the last two holes were looming and Kev tried some Sir Alex Ferguson-esque mind games. Unfortunately for him I’m not a spineless bitch like Kevin Keegan and cruised to a two shot win. I was magnanimous in victory and didn’t gloat like a cunt, no Sir, that isn’t my style!!!

As it was relatively early (11pm – we had been playing for 3 hours!) we decided to have a doubles game. It had a name which I don’t remember but it was basically everyone tees off and then the pairs select the best ball for the second shot then the shots are taken alternately. Geditt? It was a struggle for us too after a few cans.

Me and Richie were wild and Kev and Paddy has kissed and made up. They went into a two shot lead that me and Richie clawed back despite the arguing and screaming. “They are fighting amongst themselves” came the gleeful cries from the soon to be losers. The reason we were so passionate was because we wanted the victory more than them two.

After not being ahead for 8 of the 9 holes, me and Richie snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. As they say, the cream cannot help but to rise up to the top and that is what we did as we rose like salmon to strike a blow for podgy games players all over the world. Experience triumphed over youth and all Kev’s snide practicing was in vain!!!

Thursday 16 October 2008

37 - A Brand New Challenge But The Same Result...

Another night like the opening of a horror film, another trip to the range. Fighting my way through the howling wind and driving rain I was relieved to see Richie’s bright red passion wagon in the car park and impressed to see Paul (not Lucky, the other Paul) had made the long journey from Formby for 100 balls of practice. I swear it only rains that way when we decide to visit the driving range.

I started, as usual, with a salvo from ‘Arthur’ who was in the type of form that can only be described as average. Plenty of sloppy shots about 150/200 yards with no discernable direction despite my effort. Actually, that is a little harsh. The shots were going in a vague arc about as wide as an Aldi car park in a small Scottish town.

With the warm up out the way me, Richie and Paul got on to the serious business of the Blue & Yellow Basket Challenges! With the new rules in place the game was very much on. Big Yeller was first to be bombarded…briefly. I was just starting to get my range when Richie aced the target. Game over. Bastard. Not to worry, I’d make up for it with a considered attack on Little Bluey.

Erm, not a chance. Before I could say “Paul has chipped the fucker in”, Paul had chipped the fucker in. This was getting seriously irritating now. Looking back it was a bit of a wake up call to be honest and showed that however far I had come in the last seven weeks I was still, at best, shit. Granted, both Richie and Paul have been playing for years but there was no disguising the fact that I was miles behind them.

Right, time to even things up a little, time for a brand new game, a game that requires less skill and more luck. Ladies and Gentlemen I give you ‘The Smack the Big Number 4 Sign Challenge!’ The rules are simple; take it in turn to hit the big, yellow number 4 sign about 75 yards away. Erm, that’s it. What makes this challenge different though is that the sign is on a post so to hit it takes a lot of skill or some blind luck.

To cut a short story, erm, short, Richie hit the fucking thing three times in about 10 minutes without any effort. Grrr… That was it, I gave up. I went back to bandy drives with ‘Arthur’ knowing that my best wasn’t even close to being good enough. Strangely, despite my shitness, I still had a good time so it wasn’t a complete loss. I badly need to practice though.

Wednesday 15 October 2008

36 - Another Day, Another Round, Another Success...

As he was going to see Oasis the night before and would no doubt trying to drink his own body weight in lager, Lucky took the next day off to recover. I got a text off him that asked if I fancied a sneaky round of golf that afternoon. Until I received his text I didn’t but now the idea was in my head and I had to sort it out. A quick discussion with my manager and I was on the phone to book a round.

I phoned Kirkby out of hope rather than expectation and was, as usual, though to Sweary McGeary. Kirkby was closed due to water logging but the man with a thousand expletives was up beat about the course claiming that the greens were in the best condition of the year and, if there was no rain, the course would be in pristine condition the next day, almost perfect in fact. I thought I’d ask if there was any chance of a sneaky round today anyway, “no fucking chance” came the predictable reply. I phoned Bootle knowing that they never close and we were booked to tee off at 1:15.

Me and Lucky met in the car park and commented on how nice the day was. No wind, brilliant sunshine, relatively warm, fantastic. Something had to go wrong though, but what? Then we saw the queue at the first tee. There were about four games backed up meaning we’d be hanging around for about 40 minutes before hitting a ball. Because we are ingenious so-and-so’s we decided to start by playing the back nine first meaning we’d miss all the queues. Brilliant!

We ambled over to the 10th tee where two lads were limbering up. It seems they were waiting for a mate and asked if we wanted to play through but we told them we would wait as we are shit and would only hold them up. One of them commented on the fact that we didn’t look shit, in fact we looked – according to him – like a couple of American PGA Pros! I explained that it is easy to look the part but much more difficult actually being it. He agreed and said he was the same; “all the gear and no idea!” That sums me and Lucky up nicely I thought.

It took a while for me to remember how to hit the ball but Lucky was flying, in fact he got his first ever par on the 11th (a short par 3) and looked like he was going to burst into tears! We continued around the course hitting good shot after good shot and were level pegging by the time the arse fell out of my game on the 14th. The hole is a long son-of-a-bitch par 3…over water so there was no chance I was going to do well on it. Three balls into the lake later and my round was officially fucked. The confidence drained out of me with each plop of ball into shitty lake.

I tried to make it up on the next hole but I made a complete pig’s ear of that too. The only good thing to come out of the 15th was the copy of Fiesta (a male, ahem, interest mag ) I found in the bushes behind the green which took my mind off the fuck awful golf I was playing. I was distracted (that isn’t a euphemism by the way) and started to hit the ball properly again. It is amazing what the power of nekkid women can do…

By the time we got to the 18th which was actually our ninth as we played the back nine first instead of the front nine I was on the verge of walking away. It was only the fact that, for the first time in all the three times I have been there, the 1st tee was empty that we decided to have a crack at the first nine holes. Anyone who has played Bootle will tell you that the front nine is much more difficult than the back nine so I wasn’t looking forward to it to be honest.

I’m glad that Lucky convinced me to have a crack though as it was possibly my most enjoyable nine holes since I started playing six whole weeks ago. There was no-one behind us so we could take our time, the weather was glorious and I was playing ok. The odd shot aside, I was hitting the ball fairly straight and fairly long. I even managed to find the fairway for the first time on the rock hard 7th (a fearsome par 5 with a green on the top of hill like something out of a giant Crazy Golf Course or summat). It was on this hole where I played my best shot of the day as I pitched a delicious chip to within 2 feet of the hole.

As we made our way to the 9th (which was actually our 18th) I started to reflect on what a good round we had. Lucky was excellent off the tee and was starting to find his range with the new Klingon putter. His short game was still a little hit and miss but overall he was much improved, a fact reflected in the final score when we worked out Lucky had knocked a massive 28 shots off his previous score.

I had did ok too knocking 15 off my total but most importantly I was playing better and enjoying the game. When we did the totals we had both scored 103, agonisingly close to the magical 100 (my pre-Christmas target). At this rate my dream of ‘not being completely shit’ could be realised by next summer.

Tuesday 14 October 2008

35 - My Kinda Place For A Lost Weekend...

Sorry for the lack of updates recently my little golf fanatics but I have spent the weekend trying to destroy my liver and kidneys with alcohol. Those of you sick of reading my shit will be pleased to know that I have almost succeeded by the looks of things as I now have a faint yellow tint about me – a sure sign that something isn’t working properly.

I got to thinking about how golf would be if I were pissed. Would I be more relaxed? Would my co-ordination go to pieces meaning I wouldn’t be able to hit the ball let alone hit it accurately? Would I be searching the woods for a kebab shop every ten minutes? All important questions I’m sure you will agree? Thing is, I really want to try it.

Like real golf, drunken golf requires preparation and practice which is why I am desperate to visit the establishment below. Seriously, how funny would that place be? All the gaff would need was lap dancing waitresses serving curry and the army would need to be drafted in to control the crowds outside.

I need a lie down.

Friday 10 October 2008

34 - Simply The Worst...Practice Ever!

What a difference a day makes as some bint once warbled. Yesterday was easily my best trip to the driving range, today was the worst. My golf was ok it was just the rest of it that sucked arse.

I went through the routine of texting the usual suspects and got a couple of replies. Lucky, desperate to build on his solid showing yesterday, was as giddy as a teenager on his first line of coke and desperate to get down there. Richie was also up for spending an hour hitting irritatingly straight shots down the range too. So far, so good.

Actually, why am I the only cunt who ever organises this shit? Any trip to Aintree starts with me sending out a flurry of texts in the hope that someone will agree to go. It would be nice if one of you lot would text me for a change to see if I were up for it. I could then play hard to get for a bit before giving in easier than a stowaway nymphomaniac on a ship full of horny sailors that have been at sea for two months.

Ahem…

Yeah, so I got my gear ready, got changed and braced myself to face the wilds of north Liverpool on a stormy October night. Then I got a phone call from Lucky saying that he had two tickets to see Oasis at the Echo Arena and was swerving the range. I had been blown out for Liam Gallagher. Liam fucking Gallagher for fuck sake. Lucky would rather watch that uni-browed, welly-headed, knock-eyed cunt than come the range with me. I felt dirty. Never mind, me and Richie would play and I was bound to get a few quality tips from him.

I fought my way into the range from the monsoon engulfing the car park and found a bay. Strangely, most of them were full despite there being no golf on telly and the weather being awful. I warmed up with a few whacks with ‘Arthur’ and things were going well. Then I received a call from my better half saying that Richie wasn’t coming as he got soaked filling the car with petrol at the garage or something. Fuck sake.

So there I was, alone, pissed off and soaked. To cut a long story short I won both the Blue and Yellow Basket Challenges as I was the only gobshite playing. Eventually Richie popped in for 5 minutes on his way home but the damage had been done, I been abandoned and left to my own devices. All I learned from the session is that playing alone is shite and you can go through 100 balls in about 20 minutes without trying. Gutted.

Thursday 9 October 2008

33 - Brightly Coloured Aspirational Bobbins...

Since spotting the good reviews of a set of TaylorMade clubs the other week I have been eying up their merchandise with more than a little passing interest. Before reading the review I never really fancied their stuff (despite having a TaylorMade bag ironically) as they always looked a bit, well, poncey to me compared to other manufacturers. It is hard to explain but I’ll have a go.

When I think of Nike stuff it puts me in mind of 20 and 30-something players who have recently taken the sport up and are full of energy and enthusiasm. They would be the sort of people who would buy Golf Punk magazine (which I described as Nuts Mag with putters if you remember) and have longest drive competitions for Tequila Shots.

Ping is what professionals and auld arses use. People who have been playing for 15 years or more, got the hooning out of their system and now want clubs that allow them to do shit like shape their shots in an effort to get down to a single figure handicap. Their choice is made because they will absolutely not compromise on quality and price isn’t really an issue.

When it comes to TaylorMade I tend to think of people who buy stuff because of the image it portrays. It puts me in mind of people who absolutely must have an executive German saloon despite struggling to pay the insurance on it. People who buy Apple Mac’s because of the way they look rather than because of the stuff it can do. People who have to have the latest phone with all the bells and whistles despite never using them half of them. You know the type of person I mean, they are usually referred to as cunts.

Well that is what I was thinking as I was idly checking the Auto Trader website for a Mercedes CLK coupe on my iPhone via the shortcut that synced from my MacBook. Yup, they are the type of person you would cross the road to avoid. They are usually mouthy bastards with too much to say and too little worth listening to in my experience. Erm…

Joking aside, TaylorMade have that effect on me which would possibly put me off buying them. I am probably dead wrong, they are probably a fantastic brand that deserves a lot more credit than I’m giving it and no doubt my outlook would change if I spent £500 on a set of their irons but for the time being I’m not feeling them.

At least they don’t try and hook in the morons by giving their stuff exciting names like ‘Burner’ and producing garish golf bags and that. Oh…

Wednesday 8 October 2008

32 - Simply The Best...Practice Ever!

After the debacle at Bootle the other day I was desperate to work on my driving. I have gone from useless to ok to useless again in the space of three weeks. I’m up and down more often than a French grooms arse on his wedding night. I decided it was vital that I knuckle down and get to grips with my driver as it is starting to seriously mess with my head.

I sent a text to Alan and Lucky to see if either of them were up for a sneaky hour at Aintree. Both said they were well up for it. It was on like Donkey Kong!

When I got there I was greeted by Lucky and his lad Liam (complete with bandaged up hand after an altercation with a fence). No sign of Alan but we were able to find three bays together for when he arrived. To be honest, we could have had about ten in a row as there was no golf tournament recently and it was raining meaning that all the beuts would rather stay at home playing Tiger Woods than annoying the life out of me at the range.

I limbered up with a few whacks with ‘Arthur’. I was thinking about my swing after my ‘mare at Bootle and realised that when I’m using my irons I sort of bend my right wrist as the club moves back from the ball and then it straightens up as I connect with the ball. This works pretty well although I’m not sure if it is what a golf pro would recommend. Anyway, I can hit the ball pretty straight and pretty far using this method which is what I want to do with my driver.

Encouragingly the ball flew high, straight and handsome using this ‘wrist break’ action. The good thing about it was that it was effortless too. It was at this point that Alan turned up and saw me giving it the beans with ‘Arthur’. He simply said “That is spot on; I don’t know what your problem is.” I had to explain that I had changed my swing again for the 55,000th time and we both agreed that this version was working ok!

After that we had what can only be described as the best session at the driving range in my entire 6 weeks of being a golfist. Drives were straight and, 9 times out of 10, long, ‘Fivey’ was working a dream and ‘Niney’ was on form too. Liam said something telling as me and Lucky were practicing. He turned to Lucky and simply said “God, you have got loads better since last time”. Sometimes you don’t realise you are getting better as you only notice your fuck ups; Liam’s words touched me deeply (in a non-Michael Jackson kinda way you understand)!!!

With the warm up out of the way it was on to the soon to be Trade Marked Blue & Yellow Basket Challenge! For the first time ever there were rules to the game which are as follows; each player has 12 balls, the person in the bay closest to the left-hand fence goes first with the next closest second etc, the game ends when someone bingos the basket or when the balls are all gone, if 12 balls go we then try again with 13 with the same rules, when the second set of balls are gone the game is over and we move on the other basket. Got all that?

We started with Big Yeller about 100-odd yards away and instantly I could see this was going to be a tight game. Lucky, usually pish with his irons, was showering the basket with delicious shot after delicious shot whilst Alan was being Alan and getting close with virtually every shot. I was using ‘Fivey’ with a three quarter swing and, if I’m being honest, was getting closer than my two competitors. In fact I thought I got it in twice with the ball missing by literally inches.

Needless to say, despite all the good shots we didn’t manage one perfect one to find a winner on the night. As I am the current holder of the Yellow Basket Challenge Trophy I retained the cup like they do in the Ryder Cup an’ that.

We then moved on to the Blue Basket Challenge. While trying to hit Big Yeller, Lucky managed to get the ball into Little Bluey twice (I like the nicknames for the baskets, they are staying). I told him he would get an honorary mention but he wasn’t winning the game! While limbering up for the game, Alan did a Sally Gunnell trick shot where the ball trickled across the floor before colliding with another and leaping into the basket like a salmon into a keep net. Tremendous stuff.

On only the second attempt I captured the Blue Basket Challenge Trophy too! Little chip right into the centre of the basket and the Trophy was coming home with me – it is good to be the King! On a serious note it shows that I’m getting better with my irons, a point I noticed when on Bootle a few days ago with Lucky. Now if I just had a basket to aim at with my driver I would be on the PGA Tour this time next year!

With the competitive games out of the way we started on the other yellow basket on the other side of the range. This was a fair bit away but we had a go anyway and I’m pleased to say that we all went close. When it comes to iron shots me and Lucky have come on leaps and bounds...I just hope we can transfer this onto the course.

As I mentioned earlier, it was the best session we have had at the driving range and I didn’t want to leave to be honest. Me and Lucky both commented on the fact that we could prolly hit another 100 balls without trying but Alan said we should leave it or we’ll end up burnt out. Thing is, I can’t wait to return, where is my phone…I’ve got to send out some texts!

Tuesday 7 October 2008

31 - Half Is Better Than Nothing When You Are Desperate...

Me and Lucky decided that before it starts going dark really early we will try and get as many afternoon rounds in as possible. We planned a trip to Kirkby last Thursday so Wednesday saw the return of the club cleaning, clobber ironing routine that I go through before a game. Not that I was paranoid or anything but I marked a shit load of new balls with my little roo as I was certain I was going to lose a few.

Thursday morning arrived and coincided with another ‘wrath of the gods’ type downpour. Undaunted I contacted Kirkby to see if they were open “nah mate, it is fucking waterlogged” came the predictable response from Sweary McGeary. We decided to give it a miss this week as it was still pissing down as we headed to lunchtime.

Friday morning was glorious…blazing sunshine, no wind, a perfect crisp autumnal morning. “Surely it was perfect weather for golf?” asked Lucky, “you are right…and don’t call me Shirley” came my reply. I contacted Kirkby to see if, by some minor miracle, yesterday’s flood water had managed to work its way into the River Alt. I braced myself for the usual tirade from Sweary McGeary but instead was told by a very professional sounding lady that the course was too wet to play. It is never too wet to play…ahem.

Lucky was crest fallen; he needed to play like a fat kid needs M&M’s. It was decided that we would try the golfing hell that is Bootle. Unlike Kirkby, Bootle doesn’t have problems with drainage and seems to be open every day. Bastard, I don’t like that course, well the first nine holes anyway as they are too hard for me at the minute. We were booked to tee off at 3pm.

A quick drive home to get changed and pick up my stuff meant I was a little late but we were raring to go at 3:10 on the nose. Worryingly we were behind three scalls who were giving us snide looks because we hadn’t turned up in jeans and Reebok Classics like them. Never mind, once they tee off we won’t see them again…if only that were true.

The rest of the afternoon was one big, frustrating wait as the clowns split into the rough like the Red Arrows as they searched for their lost balls. They were so shit that at one point we were one of four games backed up behind them. Their shitness did take the pressure off us a little though as I was hopeless off the tee and Lucky was being a little wayward with some of his second shots. It all came together on the fourth though as we both hit the green for three (which is what we are aiming for at the moment as we aren’t good enough to get there in two).

Looking back we did hit a few good shots but overall I wasn’t impressed with my performance at all, my driving has gone to shit again and the more I tried the worse I got until I started teeing off with a 3 iron again just so I could take my second shot from the fairway. I’m properly putting the hours in at the range to work on my driving. I want it to be second nature to hit it kinda long and kinda straight. Practice makes permanent as they say (well Richie does anyway).

We made our way round and let a couple of lads who were much better than us play through on the tricky little par 3 5th. The two of them drove over the water and onto or close to the green. I thought Lucky was going to get his lights punched out by one of them as he started practicing his swing when one of the lads was taking his shot. The fact he was swinging was bad enough but then he smacked the ground and a big sod hit the lad teeing off as he was on his down stroke! Luckily the lad was ok about it.

By the time they had putted the next pair behind them had caught up to us too and I could see another game closing in quickly. No more playing through, sorry. I hate teeing off when people are watching as I end up rushing my shot just to get out of there and usually fuck up. Lucky teed off first with his hybrid and got the ball right in the middle…of the pond. Nicely done Sir! I used a 3 iron to make sure I cleared it and hit it into the reeds just before the green. Undaunted, Lucky tried again with his hybrid and hit a peach. If he were a degree or two to the left it seriously could have been a hole in one, it was a great shot.

We finished the hole and moved on to the next where I witnessed Lucky’s remarkable Bloodhound skills. He has an unerring ability to find his ball in the rough no matter how bad it is or how little he saw of it as it left his club.

He hit a really good tee shot that hooked into the rough a little as it rolled from the fairway. When we got there he couldn’t find it so hit another ball just in case. While walking up to the green he kept looking and spotted his ball buried in the rough. A second shot landed just shy of the dancefloor but he was happy. Before you know it he was chuffed to bits to get a par 4…until I reminded him that he actually got 5 whereupon he claimed I was ruining this game for him!

The round went on and for some reason my left hand got sorer and sorer until it got to a point where I couldn’t put any power into a shot without me getting shooting pains up my arm. That is a worry, I’m hoping I just bent or twisted it funny during the round, I hope it doesn’t flair up every time I play like some weird Tennis Elbow.

By the time we got to the ninth tee it was 6:15 and the sun was going down quickly, my hand was throbbing and the arseholes in front were still in the rough looking for their balls. The queue behind us had grown and I was now freezing. It was obvious to me that we weren’t going to get a full round in but Lucky was still up for it even if it meant playing on his own…in the dark! Eventually I convinced him to give it up and we shook hands on the 9th green to finish an eventful half round.

I wasn’t happy with the nine holes I played at all. My driving was shit and my putting has gone to the dogs. On the plus side my iron shots were pretty good – it looks like the Yellow & Blue Basket Challenge is paying off! I need to work with ‘Arthur’ before I play again – something I’m planning to do a lot next week at the range.