138 - Sand Trapped...

Richie offered to help continue my golfing education this evening with a crash course in escaping the evil sand trap. I have a pathological fear of the dreaded Adolf Hitler (two shots in the bunker) and was keen to learn so it was off to Kirkby Golf Course for some early evening instruction.

We arrived at the course at around 19:30 confident that we would be able to wander up to the bunker protecting the first green (below) and get a bit of practice in but it didn’t turn out that way as wave after wave of late players teed off behind us.

At first we were courteous and waited for them to play through but it didn’t take long for us to get bored and head into the perfectly kept (ahem) bunker - I suppose you get what you pay for and seeing as we paid absolutely nothing we couldn’t really complain.

Anyone who has spent time in a bunker will tell you that it is difficult to get the ball out and onto the green with any real degree of accuracy - unless you are blessed with some talent or put some serious graft in.

Richie went through the subtle art of smashing the ball from the bunker and making it flop gently on the green with irritatingly ease.

After a number of what can only be described as horrible shots I finally got the hang of popping the ball up to escape the sand but getting it to land anywhere near the pin was a completely different story. Occasionally I would get the ball within putting distance but more often than not I would be miles away.

I did hit an absolute peach that trickled agonisingly close the hole but overall it wasn’t a great performance, I know that I need a lot more practice on this part of my game. After my lesson with Terry I could see improvement but the bunker had the beating of me today.

Overall it was a good couple of hours and a real eye opener. Before today I had only been in the sand a couple of times and on those occasions I just smashed the ball as hard as I could and hoped for the best. Now I know there is a technique to getting close, a technique I need to nail.

135 - Putt It Away...

After my lesson in golf fundamentals from Terry it was off to Widnes Golf Club for a session on the practice green. Now that I was able to drill the ball effortlessly 150 yards with some degree of accuracy it was time to face a whole different challenge as I tried to sink a measly 3-foot putt. How hard could it be?

After 15 frustrating minutes the answer was that it is extremely hard. I soon discovered that I couldn’t read greens; I have a touch as subtle as the Yorkshire Ripper and seemingly the inability to learn from mistakes, three qualities that are no doubt the envy of every player out there!

As on the field earlier, Terry showed me how it was done before watching me and correcting the problems. With his first putt he stepped up and put the ball a couple of inches from the hole seemingly without trying so I was confident I wouldn’t be too far behind him. I was wrong, very wrong.

It took me a quarter of an hour to even get the ball within chipping distance of the cup. To make matters worse, there were players at the club putting in a bit of practice before teeing off also making it look ridiculously easy. Now this was really winding me up but I stuck to the task and tried to put Terry’s advice into action.

Eventually I got into the swing of things and started getting my shots close; close enough to change my average from three putts to two. Then Terry threw a spanner in the works by making me practice on longer finishes that had me back at square one for a short time untilI found my range again.

Before leaving I had a little practice of chipping onto the green from about 20 feet away from the pin. I found that getting it onto the green is quite easy but getting it close is a whole different story. Again Terry gave me instruction and again I got better with each shot until I got tired and couldn’t hit the ball cleanly anymore.

Overall it was a great afternoon of tuition and practice. I had learned so much in four and a half hours and regained my appetite to play. Terry kept repeating that I need to practice to improve, something that I genuinely intend to do.

73 - Chip Around The Clock...

I love wedges; I think they are some of the sexiest pieces of golf kit on the market right now. They are some of the most lovingly created tools in your bag (to me woods, hybrids and clubs can be exercises in engineering these days) yet wedges haven’t changed much in design over the years. Look at this years offering from Callaway and it won’t be a million miles from the wedge released 10 years ago and the one 10 years before that.

Technological advances in chippers seem to be cutting slightly different shaped grooves (which will soon be banned) or adding a swirling pattern to the face. None of this multi-composite materials malarkey, no lowering the centre of gravity, none of this increasing the MOI tomfoolery just a classic shape, good quality metals and plenty of that illusive feel the magazines talk about so much.

But a quick look at any online store will show there are so many different wedges out there and how come some stand out more than others? All the big manufactures produce a wedge to compliment their range and I’m sure they all perform admirably but there are a few clubs that seem to rank higher than others.

Titleist, TaylorMade, Callaway and Cleveland are renowned for their wedges as are my favourite manufacturer Mizuno. The Titleist Vokey is arguably the right now delivering tour standard spin and control with the rest of the field hot on it’s beautifully crafter heels. I came close to buying an Oil Can finished Vokey a few months ago but I had a bit of a run in with Acushnet – the parent company who own Titleist and FootJoy – so I boycotted them.

Instead I turned to Mizuno who, after a bit of research, are apparently famed for producing quality wedges that deliver bags of feel. Perfect for an international ball chipping legend like me! Ahem. I purchased three wedges via the internet saving myself around £160 on the RRP and, from my limited experience and testing, they are mint.

I’ve got two MP-R Series wedges and an MP-T Series. The difference between the R and the T is the shape. R stands for round and, as the name suggests, the face is bigger and slightly more rounded to give more flexibility and make it easier to hit better shots. The T stands for teardrop and it is a more traditional, classically shaped wedge.

The MP-R’s are 50* and 56* and are finished in Black-Ni (above)which gives the club a sort of gunmetal finish that is claimed to reduce glare when used on sunny day and makes the club look fantastic. The MP-T is 58* and has what Mizuno call Raw Haze finish (below). Basically it looks like it has started rusting straight out of the box (it will rust for real over time to increase spin) – it is stunning I reckon.

Both are gorgeous, both are useless to me at the moment as I can’t use them properly. This will change soon though as I’ve been onto Richie who has confirmed he will be happy to help me get my ‘A game’ on using a method he read where you break the chipping stoke into three zones with the average distances are calculated to help distance control. I like the sound of this; it arouses the engineer in me.

So how does it work? Each wedge is swung to a set distance which is equated to three times on a clock. Imagine that when the club is sat behind the ball it is at 6 o’clock (straight down on the clock face). The first swing sees the club is drawn back to 7 o’clock, the second 9 o’clock and the last one 11 o’clock to produce three levels of swing and therefore three different chip distances (still with me?)

The idea is that I focus on just three chips and then simply use a different wedge to produce different distance results. Once the distances are mapped with each wedge I should be able to predict roughly where the ball should go thus taking some of the guess work out of chipping.

Obviously there will be more to it than that as there are a lot of other variables like lie, weather, type of shot needed etc but having a pretty good idea of where the ball should land will be one less thing to worry about. That is the theory anyway; I’ll give you all an update of what happened once I attempted to put this into practice.

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.

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.

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!

30 - Addictive Basket Challenge Too Hard To Resist...

Like the night before the rain was coming down in sheets thick as lead and the wind was howling like erm, a howly thing so an hour at the range was the only logical thing to do. I sent Lucky a sneaky text and he phoned me back to say he was curled up in front of the fire like a cat or something. I mentioned the Yellow and Blue Basket Challenge and he said he would be at the range in 15 minutes!

Again the place was virtually deserted so we took a couple of bays near the end of the range to the right. As we got there I pondered how many balls I was going to slice clean out of the place onto the racecourse. The next Grand National will be a farce with all the horses slipping and sliding on the hundreds of balls littering the grass like a toddler falling on its arse after treading on marbles scattered across a laminate floor…or summat.

We limbered up by smashing balls up the range with our driver. Paul was his consistently long, consistently straight self with his ‘Lucky 13’ working well in the chill night. ‘Arthur’ was playing up. I couldn’t get the ball to go higher than my knee or further than I could spit. So frustrating. The solution was easy and predictable. All I did was keep my head still and the ball flew high, straight and handsome.

Then it was on to the hybrid. As Lucky said when he saw it, you can’t go wrong for a tenner. I tried it off the small tee and, like last week, it flew down the range with a low trajectory making it good for sneaky Sally Gunnell’s down the fairway. Is it supposed to do that? Surely it should fly high to gain more yards? It is more than likely that I’m mishitting it like all my other clubs.

After dicking about with the woods and hybrids it was time for the real reason we were at the range; Yellow and Blue Basket Challenge! First up was the yellow fella about 100 yards away. As I’m the reigning champion I went first and almost bingoed it immediately. Lucky isn’t as confident with his irons so wasn’t expecting much but after a few shots to get his eye in so to speak he was plopping balls around the basket. Game on.

The game went on for about 10 minutes with a lot of near misses until I hit a bit of a shanker that was dead on line but wasn’t going to danger any air traffic passing over. It flew low, bobbled a couple of times and then made it into the basket…I think! I was claiming it though and Lucky was gracious enough to give it to me anyway.

Next was attacking ‘Bluey’. 50 yards, freaky quarter swing with a 9 iron, addictive as fuck. Me and Lucky we launching balls quick and fast and getting much closer than the last challenge which is what you would expect seeing at the basket is within spitting distance. The game ended quickly as we ran out of balls without finding the target despite the squeals and howls from us.

I think I prefer playing when the weather is bad, it makes me feel like I’m suffering for my art or something…plus there is no queue and you can make as much noise as you want as you dick about trying to slice balls over the net at the side of the range. The important thing is that I’m still enjoying it.

24 - Reports Of My Golfing Demise May Have Been Greatly Exaggerated...

Your sweary golf blog entertainment might continue after all. I had threatened to jack it all in if tonight’s session at the torture chamber, I mean, driving range went badly. I’m pleased to say that tonight went well…almost as well as it ever has. I blame Richie entirely for this.

While I practiced Richie stood behind me with his judging eyes, checking, ready to point out where I was going wrong. So it was inevitable that I hit six (it is always in groups of six remember) balls fairly far and fairly straight. I was embarrassed and a little bit pissed off. I had specifically asked Richie to come down to sort all my problems yet they had mysteriously disappeared.

Saying that, Richie still spotted a couple of things that he thought needed working on. In order to control my swing he suggested that I grip the club down the shaft a little. Apparently reducing the swing will mean that I’m not as wild and should have more control over the ball which in turn should stop the hideous newbie slice. Fuck me it worked! It worked so well I got adventurous.

Anyone who has ever played golf will tell you that the driver is the hardest club to use accurately which is why, on my two trips to a golf course so far, I’ve avoided it like the plague on the whole. Tonight my mate Paul from work (not Lucky Paul, another Paul) decided he would pop down to Aintree for a bit of a whack. He brought with him a present in the form of a metal shafted, John Daly signature, Hippo driver. He said I should use it to see if it would help my slice.

With Richie’s advice ringing in my ears and Paul’s wood gripped firmly in my hands (oo-er) I let rip and…the ball flew straight and true. For a change it went a properly decent distance too. Was it a fluke I asked myself? Was it fuck came the answer as I hit more and more balls acceptably straight and satisfyingly long. I switched to my 3 wood to see if I could replicate the magic and was more than pleasantly surprised to see I could.

Next it was on to my 5 iron. I wanted to show to Richie that although I might be a ham fisted gimp when it came to driving, I was doing alright with my irons. I hit my first shot so bad that he was laughing at me when I turned around. What a mate he is!!! The problem was easy to spot and quick to fix. I was standing too close to the ball and not keeping my head down.

Adjustments made I was back on course. The yellow basket challenge was on again and I failed once more. I got the same words of encouragement from Richie that I usually get from Alan though; I was getting close enough to be on the green and in a good position to two putt. I was back to being proud of my little ‘Fivey’!

Time for the wedge and the blue basket challenge. The game is simple; there is a blue basket around 50 yards away and we each in turn try and chip into it. So far I have played this game with Alan and Lucky and lost on both occasions. This time, armed with my 56* wedge, I was determined to win. After a few shots I realised that the wedge was just too lofty, the ball was flying higher than further.

I switched to Lucky’s 9 iron and, in the immortal words of Stifler, it was “on like Donkey Kong”. I was there or thereabouts from the start so it was only a matter of time before I hit the jackpot. A few balls later I was laughing like a loon as I bingoed the target. Get the fuck in! I won, job done, game over. Richie went one better though by doing a ‘Crossbar Challenge’ (watch Soccer AM on Sky) on the basket…the bastard.

With the prize won I moved to a spare bay, relaxed and fired a few balls off. It is amazing how much easier this game is when you have no pressure on you. I hit lots of creamy shots into the crisp Aintree night with a smug smirk on my face. I finished off with two 3 wood drives that were the best of the night. It is good to be the king.

23 - This Is A Low...

As you may have noticed after reading the last few posts on this blog, I’m not the ray of sunshine I usually am. It would be fair to say I’m about as happy as a bulimic with no fingers. The reason is simple; I’m not getting any better at golf despite putting a lot of effort in. I practice three times a week and get to a course every couple of weeks yet I’m still utter rubbish.

If I’m being honest I think I have actually regressed. When I first started I could hit the ball far but without any real accuracy, now, after all those hours of practice, all the tips and all the help, I can’t hit it as far as I could originally and I’m just as inaccurate. A lose/lose situation I’m sure you’ll all agree.

A few weeks ago, although I was what’s know in the trade as ‘shit’ I was enjoying it. Now I’m finding it more and more difficult to motivate myself to bother any more. The driving range used to be a place where I could practice and have a bit of fun, now it is starting to feel like a torture chamber where every screwed up shot hits me like a nail in the knackers administered by a particularly sinister jailer.

The last straw came the other night when even my 5 iron refused to play ball. I went through about 40 balls without hitting one straight (the vast majority not making it past the scrub in front of the bays before the grass starts if I’m being honest). Earlier my ‘fixed’ 3 wood went on the blink as the auld slice returned and then I couldn’t chip the ball into a basket just 50 yards away with a club just designed to chip the ball just 50 yards.

Even Alan’s words of encouragement couldn’t lift me and before you could say “you’ve just wasted an hour of your life and £4 because you couldn’t hit a cows arse with a banjo let alone the ball properly” I had wasted an hour of my life and £4 because I couldn’t hit a cows arse with a banjo let alone the ball properly. It was my worse performance at Aintree by some margin.

I’m meeting Richie at the range tonight and he has promised to give me some tips. I have a sneaky plan for Friday too but if these two sessions don’t go well I might have to face the fact that golf just isn’t for me and jack it in as a bad job. This is a low.

22 - Close Your Legs You Big Hussy...

After the good session at the range the other night I was eager to get back down there. I had started hitting my 3 wood properly by simply moving my left foot back half an inch (I know it shouldn’t work but it just does) and wanted to see if I could replicate the magic with my Big Bertha. I couldn’t. This game is shit.

I cannot understand how something that works on one club can fail so spectacularly on another. I was properly trying too. I was giving it so much thought and putting so much effort in that when it didn’t work I wanted to smash my driver to bits. I was on the verge of giving up in a girly huff, especially as the 13-year-old kid in the next bay was pinging the ball high, straight and handsome – the little shit – instead I moved on to my 5 iron, he wouldn’t let me down.

Sure enough auld ‘Fivey’ was as reliable as a Volkswagen. Time after time I got a good connection and more often than not the ball went where I wanted it to go. Again me and Alan had a showdown trying to get into the yellow basket thing 150 yards away. Again Alan won but only on a technicality as he had a Sally Gunnell that bounced into the net…the cheat!!!

Right, on to the cheap wedge that I’m trialling to see if I can justify buying a Vokey. Instead of doing any real practicing I was experimenting with the little fella, seeing how the ball flew differently when I hit it in different ways. Not too productive but I did get another little tip which worked a treat when Alan explained that unlike a prostitute I should have my legs closed to make it easier to get to the hole.

Closing your stance, keeping your arms straight and gently pushing through the ball will make it fly straight and true…if you hit it correctly that is. Currently I have an annoying tendency to top the ball making it fly low and far – pretty much the exact opposite to what I want it to do.

According to Richie I should give the driving range a miss, get on a field and hit the balls until I’m making contact with them consistently. After that I can start hitting the ball harder to work out what I can do with the club. I desperately want the wedge to work out as I know, from my two rounds, how important it is to get close to the pin when on the course…oh and then I can justify buying that lovely, lovely Vokey!