Six Birdies, Moving the Goal Post, and YouTube Swing Advice
Caddie Corner is a weekly newsletter where we explore the intersection of life, golf, and the absurdities in between. We took a week break in between a golf trip, work travel, and the US Open. Lots to catch up on! Thanks to the new faces that are here this week.
Flying again. I’m spending more time in airports than home. That’s okay. Frequent travel is healthy for a writer. Road trips, train cars, cruising at 30,000 feet. I think that’s what they call perspective. And boy, do things look different from up here.
Annual golf trip two weekends ago. Tried buying new irons the week before. Got asked to leave after shanking every P790 I hit. The T200s weren’t better. I spent that night scrolling YouTube until my bedroom window was suddenly bright and I looked down to see how long I’d been scrolling. Not exactly the feel you want going into a trip. So the next night after work, the day before my 7 am flight, I went to the range. Only two options: 50 or 100 balls. I paid for the small bucket that’s not so small, then asked to switch to the large bucket. I’d stay until I figured it out.
Turns out, and this may be the first ever documented case study in history, the YouTube videos helped. My swing is decent. Serviceable, at worst. So when things go awry it’s always a combination of grip, posture, and alignment. Usually all three. When those three match up it’s fire and go. No thoughts necessary. Finding that combination, and keeping it, is where we will spend all our lives. On this particular day, I found it quickly. Neutralized grip. Stand a little further back. More bend in the waist. Fire and go. Flushed shot after flushed shot. I play my best when I feel like I can take the club outside and create as much width as possible. This was the type of range session I imagine people are watching me swing. Pretend there’s a scout a couple bays down who got whiplash when he turned around after hearing the sound my seven iron just made. Called up his big donors. You know that new sound you’ve been looking for!? Thirty balls into the hundred. Turned around and left. Left more than half the bucket in the bay. Fire and go.
I made six birdies in the first round of the trip. New to me. Bit of an out of body experience. Only hit seven greens in reg. But when I did, it was back of the cup. Four birdies through sixteen holes. Short par-four 17th. Said I was hungry for more birdies. Pumped a drive. Wedge to five feet. Center of center for the fifth on the day. Eighteenth hole is a par-five. Giddy with the chance for another. 250 in. John asked if I wanted to borrow his three wood (I don’t carry one). No, hybrid’s enough. One of those days I could’ve hit five iron and it was gonna get there. I didn’t comprehend the water to the left of the green. A pull draw was unfathomable. It was just fire and go. And go she did. Pin high, chip to two feet, tap in birdie for numero seis on the day.
Oh, I shot 86. Forgot to mention that. Psychologically damaging to shoot 41 on the back nine with four birdies. Barely more birds than trips. Such is the life I live. Not allergic to scoring, just incapable of eighteen good holes. Of course, that’s just one of the many false truths we tell ourselves. I’ve learned if I’m going to lie to myself, I might as well try to help the cause. I’ve told myself I’m a great putter enough times that I don’t blink over four footers. I should start lying to myself that I am someone that does not make four triples in one round. Outside of golf I lie to myself and say I’m someone that does hard things because they’re worth it. Of course, that’s ignoring all the afternoons wasted scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. But when the actions match up with the identity, it makes it easier to do the next time. And habits compound and become the lives we live. We all lie to ourselves, might as well be strategic about it.
For those keeping track, the count is at 20. In my annual goals post, I declared I’m maxing out my rounds this year at 25. People roll their eyes when they hear that. But when I tell them I’m nearly there and summer hasn’t even technically started, their look of annoyance turns into eyes of sympathy. You poor thing. And how do you bear your cross so humbly?
Well, good news, friends. I’m making an addendum to the rules. Pushing the goalposts, so to say. Here it is: Rounds with your dads, godfathers, uncles, or father-in-laws count as negative rounds to the total. Better yet, rounds with your grandpa count as minus five. So after this weekend, we are sitting comfortably at 15 effective rounds on the year.
We had three tee times booked this Father’s Day. The big news was grandpa was in the first group. He gave up the game two years ago. Blamed it on his back. Valid, I suppose. He turns ninety next month. It’s a big deal when someone like that hangs up the clubs. It’s an identity for some of us. We’re golfers. And to be one, you must, well… golf.
Earlier this year, Uncle Pat convinced grandpa to play nine holes when they went down to Florida. Suddenly the back wasn’t a bother. He’d go out for another eighteen the next week. And another after that. Grandpa plays old man golf. The 14 of 14 fairways with a stellar short game type. But on the first tee he laced a seed down the middle of the fairway that went well over 200 yards. He’s always had the same swing. A grip stronger than John Daly. Aim twenty yards right and come over the top with a dead shut club face. The result is a ball that flies off the club face even at ninety years old. Grandpa didn’t bother playing the senior tees. The whites were just fine for him. The walking and bending and swinging were no bother. The shit-talking my brother-in-law who’s just taking up the game came easy too as he outdrove him and dropped a couple putts for par. Doing it all at ninety with that strong grip and short takeaway. Now that’s something you won’t find on YouTube.
There’s been some other stellar golf around the Caddie Corner lately. Brother John broke 80 for the first time on the golf trip. Blew the doors off with a 76 at Tiburon. Of course, he was everyone’s little brother on that trip so he got an earful on the sandbagging speculations. Cousin Luke has been playing great. He’s the only person who has more colorful scorecards than me. On Sunday he went 35 - 45 for an 80, still looking to break it for the first time. Soon!
Psycho Scorecard!
Great pic