The mandate from the 2014 election doesn’t matter as long as these two are buddies.
Many times in life, we like to whine about our position in life. I’ll try to remember this golfer the next time I think life is not fair or think, “Why me?”
My bride and I celebrate our 18th wedding anniversary today with nine holes of golf at Glendoveer, dinner at Il Piato and the premiere of the fourth season of “Mad Men” at 10:00.
Beverly is as lovely today as the day we married and I’m re-upping for another 18! I am a lucky man to have found a woman who loves me despite my flaws.
We love Oregon from April through October and invite you all to visit our beautiful state.Â I came across this “Adventurrcation” from Travel Oregon that I would encourage anyone from out of the state to enter.
Travel Oregon is giving three lucky winners and their friends a weeklong, all-inclusive Oregon Adventurecation. Think of it as the polar opposite of a Staycation. Or a proven cure for the Lazycation. Enter to win one of three trips: golf your way from Bandon to Bend, cycle through wine country or get in on all the action with a mix of rafting, hiking, rock climbing and skiing.
I’m entering to win the golf vacation for four, new Nike drivers and golf on some of Oregon’s best golf courses.
The hard part, if I win, is choosing two friends to accompany my wife and me.
Congratulations to Beaverton, Oregon’s Ben Crane for winning the the Farmers Insurance Open at Torrey pines by one stroke.
You know some people are just downright lucky. Take the lottery when one ticket wins $175 Million or take the weird golf story of five holes-in-one in one week!
Central Illinois amateur golfer Curt Hocker is on a roll. Five rolls, to be exact.
Ask anyone at the El Paso Golf Club, where the 22-year-old has recorded five holes-in-one in the last week, including two on Saturday.
In this year alone, Hocker has seven aces â€” five on par-4s â€” and two other double eagles.
I recently took up golf after being away from the game for 20 years. I recently has the thrill of a birdie on a par three and I saw a woman I was playing with, sink a chip from more than 90 yards away. The shot hit the green, started curving left toward the cup and disappeared. But two holes-in-one in one day – AMAZING!
In August, I told you I played golf for the first time in 20 years, when six of us played a par three course at Edgefield. Bev and I liked it so much we both bought golf clubs and a golf glove to make the look complete. A couple of weeks later I played the front nine at Broadmore and had some nice shots, but was inconsistent. I kept casual score and probably scored a 60 for the nine. Not good, but I hit a few shots that made me smile and many shots that took the smile away. Next, Bev and I went to Glendoveer driving range and each hit a bucket of balls. I managed to iron out some kinks while blistering several places on my hands. I then played in a nine hole scramble and felt like I stunk up the course. We couldn’t use any of my drives, even with four mulligans that we paid $5 apiece.
Today, I played nine holes at Claremont in west Portland and made some progress. My drives on five of the par-fours holes were decent, two were complete duds. I hit houses three times on one hole and found water on one, losing my new Titleist. Two of the holes were par threes.
It had just started to pour. We had been monitoring some very black clouds, hoping they would blow away. Just before we were to tee off, the rain hit. The drops were huge. It almost looked like large hail. After it let up a bit, I stepped out from under the umbrella and walked up to the tee with my eight iron in my hand, arced the ball over water and plopped the ball on the green, ten feet from the hole. I had a chance at a bird. I was last to putt, and put the ball in the back of the cup. My first birdie ever on a regulation golf course! That eight iron came in handy on the fairway, too. I was about 132 yards from the green, my golfing partner suggested an eight iron. I thought that might be too little club, but I hit a fine eight again just ten feet from the cup. In all, I was right there on most holes to have a shot at par.
Tonight, while walking the dog for his evening constitutional, I paused to remember those eight iron shots. I could see the swing, hear the club strike the ball, and watch the high arc onto the green. I want more!
Last Sunday, Bev and I went to Edgefield’s par three golf course and played 12 holes with four friends. It was for me the first time I’ve played golf since 1987. I didn’t keep score, only to note that I alternated between “I hate this game.” and “I love this game!”
I started my love-hate relationship with golf in grade school. I used to hang out in the summer time trying to pick up a few bucks as a caddy on the 10th tee at Rose City. Usually, someone one in a foursome would hire me to pull his bag around the course. I learned to stand about three feet to the side of the ball waiting for the club order. I watched and learned everything I could about the proper grip, how to address the ball, the waggle, the swing, the chip and the put and how to hold the flag. I learned that you never walk on the “line” between ball and cup.
The hole after the big dog-leg left by Madison, is a three par, water hole. The men’s tee sits up high on the bank below Sacramento Street. The women’s tee is lower and nearer the water. I always asked if I could borrow a club and tee off from the women’s tee. Most of the time I hit a dunker. These guys loved the game and were free with the “tips” during the game and at the end when we parted. I got a job one year, caddying at the private Portland Golf Club. I lived at NE 70th and Burnside and took the bus. I had never been so far from home. The PGC was another world, a world to me of the rich. I knew I had arrived when many years later, built a house on the West side near the course.
I never played the game well. Never had a good set of clubs, just ones I picked up a various places along with a bag. When I last played in 1987 I probably shot over 100 for 18 and never had a bird!
I don’t know why I gave the game up. Maybe it became too expensive, what with an ex-wife. Maybe, it was the booze. Looking back, I quit drinking in 1988 and I have not played sober, till Sunday.
Sunday, I got my first bird and my friends suggested I played well enough to try it again. Bev has always said, “Golf is for old people. Let’s take it up when we are older.” Bev liked her outing. One of our friends called Friday and said Dick’s is having a golf club sale; $400 clubs and bag for $200! For some crazy reason Bev wanted to go. The clubs were graphite shafted, Big Bertha type metal woods, hybrid irons, beautiful 5 through wedge irons and a gorgeous putter. The pro took us over to the practice tee where we hit real balls and he analyzed our swings. Naturally, the $200 clubs were too whippy for me; too much torque. So for another $99, I found stiffer clubs worked better. I hit the ball farther, with greater loft. By 7:00 we walked out, each with new bag and clubs and an invitation from the pro to play sometime with him. Today, I’m playing nine holes at Broadmore. Tee off is about 1:20.
What does all this have to do with “The Downhill Lie” by Carl Hiaasen. Hiaasen gave up the game and decided to pick it up again after 32 years. This book is a riotous look at the game and the hacker golfer looking for a way to get good at a sport that is a terrible Dominatrix. She will torture you a lot and reward you just a bit to make you beg for more. I read the book in half a day, just so I could share it with my golfing partner.
Some golfers are just naturals and shoot consistently in the 70’s. The rest of us no matter what we buy to improve, and we are a gullible lot, will find that good, consistent golf just eludes us. The one thing I learned from the book is that we are all looking for that one thing that will make us better. A younger me would have bit on all that the snake-oil salesmen were selling. I’m hoping my maturity will allow me to just have fun with the game and not keep score.
Copyright © 2007 Mover Mike. Design by Anthony Baggett.