An alternative title for this post could be ‘what it feels like to play a 9-hole round of golf without rage’, which is exactly what happened this past weekend. For the first time, I didn’t want to throw in the towel by the 6th hole. I didn’t even throw one temper tantrum. Okay, I sort of got riled up when I missed a putt for my first true birdie attempt, but I like to think that’s always going to happen. I mean, seriously, I was robbed! That putt should’ve gone in! But I digress.
What’s important here is that I’ve found my clubs for life, or at least for my learning-to-golf life, and I can’t tell you what a difference it’s made. Actually, yes I can tell you what a difference it’s made, and I’m about to. Coupled with slowing my swing, about which I’ve already gushed of the benefits, these hybrid clubs have lead to such remarkable improvements as…
…Only losing one ball in an entire round! Even the ball I lost last weekend was a solid shot (for me). It cleared the water…but rolled off the bank back into the water. In contrast, most of my previous rounds involved repeated (think 4-5) balls lobbed into the water or hit into think brush never to be seen again. Ultimately, this led to my giving up, taking multi-stroke penalties and resuming play on the other side of the hazard, all in a distinctly worse state of mind.
…Only taking two mulligans! My partner is uber generous with the mulligans, something which has been completely necessary in past rounds where I missed or badly hit virtually every tee shot. This time around I hit some solid tee shots. Now, if they’d just stop lining fairways with trees I’d be set.
…FINALLY hitting the ball straight with some relative consistency. With any other club I have a strong tendency to hit far left. Every. Single. Time. With my hybrids, I am finally hitting straight, at least with a solid lie. If I’m on uneven ground it’s a totally different story and, in those moments, I really wish I could wrap my head around the fundamentals of physics. Something went horribly awry in ninth grade science. Sigh.
…Having so much fun that I lost track of what hole we were on. Usually by the 7th or 8th hole, I’m all like “sweet jesus, can we be done yet?” Imagine my surprise this weekend when I asked my partner what hole we were on and was actually sad when he said it was our ninth and final hole.
…Wanting to practice and play more! I am now the one asking if we can golf or go to the driving range, and I owe it all to my hybrids. I love them so much that I imagine it’s like what Ralphie felt like in A Christmas Story when he finally got his longed-for Red Ryder BB Gun and went to bed on Christmas night with it lovingly cradled in his arms. Let’s be clear, I don’t sleep with my hybrid clubs yet…but if I keep knocking four strokes (!!!) off my prior best score like I did last weekend, I just might!
Now if I could only figure out those bloody chip shots…