The Bohemian Duffer

Olympic Golf

2012-01-27T14:58:00.001+01:00

The ancient game of golf is on its way to the ultimate global forum: the Olympics. Next up: building a golf course worthy of the occasion.

By the end of next week, after months of jockeying, a winner will be chosen in a world-wide competition to create the course that the world's elite golfers will play at the 2016 Games in Rio de Janeiro.

Eight of the biggest names in golf design, including Jack Nicklaus, Greg Norman, Gary Player and Tom Doak, will make their final, 45-minute presentations to the selection jury on Tuesday and Wednesday. Soon after, a contract will be awarded for what is without question the most glittering golf-architecture prize of the decade.

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203718504577182863365944898.html?google_editors_picks=true

Jersey Meadow, Houston

2012-01-15T09:53:00.001+01:00

.6671 Yds, Par 71, Slope 136, by Carlton Gipson.

They say:

"Jersey Meadow Golf Course sits on part of what was once a 1,236 acre ranch owned by Clark W. Henry.

The ranch was originally home to the F & M Dairy and one of the world's largest and best herds of Jersey dairy cattle.

In failing health Mr. Henry and Mr. Leroy Kennedy began a joint land venture that took the old ranch and laid the groundwork for what would become the City of Jersey Village. In the late 1950's a parcel of land was sold and earmarked as an employee only course for Cameron Iron Works. That course would become

Jersey Meadow Golf Course.

"In the late 1980's well known golf course architect Carlton Gipson redesigned the course and helped make it the outstanding test of golf it is today. "

Ohhhhhh, I played Jersey Meadow because it was sort-of the closest to my brother house . . . I wish I'd gone down to Memorial Park, in a way, instead, especially when I re-remembered Houstonians suffer from a spatial disability . . . anything 20 minutes away on a freeway is deemed "close" . . . 8^D .. . but I'd played JM several times back in the 90s so I tho't I might enjoy it . . . I knew it would be flat, but da-a-a-a-a-a-a-ng. The wind did get up a bit, the live oak trees crowding the fairways, and the generous amounts of water intruding into play make it not a total dog-track, and since I didn't break par, I guess you could say it was tuff enuff . . . 8^) . . .

They've suffered from the drought here, too, and in winter they let all the grass go dormant, even the greens, instead of over-seeding, which they had done at Brackenridge, also -- apparently new Greenskeeping Theory in Texas -- but it was all playable, fairways had good lies, tees in good shape, bunkers well sanded, and greens rolled true and pretty quick . . . but you need to have those trouble shots in your bag, like off the hardpan out from under the live-oaks . . . 8^D . . .

#1, an easy starting hole. . .I didn't realize it was a par 5, tho't I could cut the dogleg and wound up in the hardpan under the liveoaks . . .fatted it out, then chunked a wedge short of the green . . . many of the pins seemed to be in the middle of the green this day, which you'd think would be easy, but since so many are hump-backed, it turned out to exagerate any putting inaccuracies, long/short, left/right -- like you can see here in the gree. Bogey.

#2, a rather easy, longish hole, dogleg right. I arrogantly and successfully cut-off the dogleg this time, then blew my half 7iron past the pin. 3putt bogey. I played this day with two young flat bellies. They hit the ball far as me, but suffered from direction-control . . . 8^D . . . a little nervous at the start, but intent just on having fun, good companions.

#3, somehow -- on some holes I just step up, see the shot, and try the shot successfully, leading me to the false impression that I know what I'm doing . . . flattened my swing, hit a tight low wind-cheating draw away from the water into the middle of the fairway . . . then thinned my shortiron into the face of the elevated green, so that it trickled up 12 ft short of the pin . . . mirabile dictu! and uphill put for birdie that I converted! Invoke Hubris.

#4, not PBFU, exactly, but let's be honest, yes: thot my shot was all over the flag and instead it plugged into the bunker. double bogey.

#5 dont remember a thing, an unremarkable hole . . . I had a camera glitch here, so these photos are captures from video I unintentionally took instead of stills. . . 8^/ . . .

#6, shortish par 4, chunked the shortiron, 3putt bogey.

#7, a very reasonably lengthed par 5, with the wind. . . my t-shot drifted off into the right rough, which I tho't was fair enough, but . . . that hid the green behind a copse of trees, which made not for a playing obstacle, but a strategic obstacle, since I mistook a neighboring green for my target since I couldn't see the correct green . . . I hit an awesomely majestic 3wood pin high 60 yds left of the pin . . . 8^( . . . wedged over to where you see in the green shot for a 2putt par, dangit.

#8 -- I could *swear* that this used to be #17, but I am old and prone to misremembering . . . I recognized it right away, but the uncertainty still threw me for a loop . . . I hit a midiron, but a fairway wood would have been better . . . against the wind I didn't get around the corner, and my second shot fairway wood clipped the tops of the trees on the corner and fell into some tall grass, from where I chopped the ball out into a bunker, then over the green and up-up-down for a 7. . . .shoot . .

#9 hit a reasonable drive on this reasonable par 4, then mulling failures on the previous hole, actually shanked a shortiron into the #1 fairway . . . even more upset, then, chunk,chunk,putt,putt,putt for another 7.

The flatbellies stopped for a hotdog and bag of iced beer cans, and I gave into the peer pressure for my own hotdog . . .hadn't had one in a couple of years, and I tho't it might assuage my back-to-back triplebogeys. . . got some cheetos, too, to make my guilty pleasure complete.

The back9 at JM is definitely more open & windblown than the front9 . . .doesn't mean that there's no trees, they're just not so tight, which is good, makes it more interesting.

#10 posed a hyperbolic poser of this condition right away, with the stiff cross-wind wanting to blow the ball OB right. This is an ugly little prospect here with the cart barn right at hand, but, well, there it is . . . I aimed left and just let the wind bring my shot back -- all the way to the right rough, less than 5 yds from the OB . . . tough .. . both the flatbellies were over the fence . . .OH! This is the #1 handicap hole . . .I pulled some fairway wood pin-high left of the green and didn't get up and down.

#11 is a nuthin' par 3. I 3jacked from the front fringe. I wouldn't waste 2 pix on such a hole with such results except that it demonstrates the heinous center pin positions on this course, if you can see it in the photo. . . my lag putt 1 foot offline rolled 9 ft away off the mound in the middle..

#12 presents the opposite problem of the first two holes of the back9, vis a' vis wind-management, which I failed, and wound up in the copse of trees left of the fairway . . . with a strange confidence based (I speculate) on vaguely-remembered past experience on this very hole I punched a scuttled 3iron off the hardpan, from under the trees, between the traps, so that it rolled right by the pin. . . I tho't it might go in. . . It wasn't as close as it had looked from back there, but I nailed that 15ft uphiller for a birdie, too . . . filling me once again with that magical illusion of competence. . . like the Rainman: "I'm an Excellent Golfer!"

#13 looked to be tougher than on paper, since it was against the wind, when it would normally be with the prevailing wind . . . that made it easier for me, I just hit directly into the breeze at the water and came up safely short, a few yards from the pampas grass you can see from the tee. But I foozled my 3wood still trying for the green in 2, then in irritation blew my approach w-a-a-a-ay over the pin, 3putt bogey.

#14 maybe the most interesting hole on the course, in that the way the water intrudes into the landing area *might* take the driver out of your hand . . . I was confident I could manage the wind and aim at that big tree on the right, which was mis-placed, as I promptly one-hopped into the water, wind-blown, 7 yds from safety . . . dummy. . . dropped a new ball by the water and hit 7iron up on the green, 2putt bogey.

#15 - don't remember a thing . . . simple flat slight dogleg.

#16 with the strong wind behind us, and gusting, I just let out a belt-loop and hit it as hard as I could . . . kinda leaked out to the right, almost pin high. . . like my 3wood on the front9, *IF* it's online, I am putting for eagle . . . sigh .. . lobbed up for a 2putt par. I was on the otherside of the far green in the picture . . . 8^D . . .

#17 this was a nasty, link-style par 3 against the wind . . . I would've come up short still, tho' I took pains to absolutely get over that bunker, aimed left against the crosswind, but there's a slope there where I landed and the ball trickled down almost to the water on the right. I guess that's why that guy in front of us is over there too. . . 8^D . . . bogey.

#18 with the wind is just not as worrisome as it would be, against. . . Aware of my last tee shot this day, and for a while in the frostbitten europe, I made sure to hit it exactly square. . . perfekt . . .I was right in the middle, but I was surprised to see the young flatbellies had outdriven me, slightly over in the right rough . . . with the wind, I was thinking I needed to hit a 3/4 wedge into the green, and promptly chunked -- twice -- into the water, which I could not abide, so I dropped a 3rd ball and hit a full wedge that stopped where it landed 4ft left of the pin -- not exactly in its pitchmark, but closeenough . . .a tough-sidehill kneeknocker. . . easy tap-in, which I have generously counted myself for a par, since I am on vacation, and out-of-training . . .I have to be good to myself, or who will be? . . . 8^D . . .

so: 48-40=88* (with an asterisk), with 2 birdies, two triple bogeys to finish the front9, two missed greens (1 par5 in 2 (#7) and 1 par4 in 1 (#16)), if you see how I mean. A middling 3 on the Scottsdale Scale . . . it's so flat, without any wind it would be defenseless . . .

but I AM intrigued in ways I can't quite articulate, the way that I happened to birdie the 3rd hole on both sides, and almost hit the green under regulation on the 7th hole of both sides. There is some science to golf course layout where the sides should resemble each other, resonate with each other, without being too identical, and in such a course, apparently almost-featureless, to have such resonance cannot be accidental and must have been the result of some skill of the architect, making the most of an unremarkable site.

before I teed off, I enjoyed a breakfast sandwich, a pleasure denied me for almost 3 years, in Europe . . . bacon-egg-cheese on a jalapeno bun . . . not quite a rave, but good.

Brackenridge Park, San Antonio

2012-01-14T11:22:00.003+01:00

6243 Yds, Par 71, Slope 126, by A.W.Tillinghast, re-fit by John Colligan,

http://www.sanantoniogolf.com/courses/brackenridge/

They say:

"Brackenridge Park Golf Course, which is the oldest public golf course in Texas, was the first ever host to the Texas Open Golf Tournament in 1922. This historic golf course has the honor of being the first inductee into the Texas Golf Hall of Fame."

It's hard for me to say how the original Tillinghast design has been changed . . . and whether it could be considered an improvement, except in this way: I have also played Memorial Park in Houston, a contemporaneous effort by Braedemus, Gus Wortham in Houston, another Tillinghast, the Blackhawk CC in Madison, WI, by Tillinghast, and "The Horrible Horseshoe" hole at Tour 18, from Colonial CC, another Tillinghast design. From those courses I have inferred certain design principles that I see are kept or not kept in the modern redesign by Colligan:

he has dropped / added holes . . . a former par 3 was pointed out to me . . . it looked like a really interesting hole, all carry and trouble all around that looked like a net loss to me, in that the terrain is sorta flat as a whole, and any trouble is an adornment

he has artificially elevated some greens, this is a net gain, imvho, much more challenging and interesting, shot-value-wise and visually.

he has left well enough alone (imvho) in many cases, so that the original routings, layouts, green complexes, bunker shaping, remains. There are some straightline fairway edges and squarish greens that look old fashioned to me, but not necessarily in the Tillinghast mold, so I don't know whether Brackinridge got an "economy" job way-back-when, or if it was done for modern greenskeeping reasons.

an entirely competent, desirable, effective re-fitting.

the course condition was forgiveable: playable, but damaged, from winter conditions and The Drought.

c.f. Top 10 Tillinghast courses http://www.golf.com/golf/gallery/article/0,28242,1682923,00.html

#1 you can see from here what you will see all day . . . tight fairways crowded by large live-oak trees, elevated greens well protected by large bunkers . . . it's perplexing, I had no sense of proportion/distance visually, so I just whaled away . . it's so tight in places I'm not sure that experience would oftne give you abetter idea, unless you had complete driving control, no wind, and radar-irons . . . 8^D . . . sliced my drive safely over those big trees on the right, chunked my approach, bogey.

#2 seemed sorta unfair, 210 yds to an elevated green one can't quite see -- sorta like a Rees Jones design -- which I solved by popping my 7wood up, and chunking a few approaches till I took a mercy-killing gimme (of morethan 10 ft) . . .one of those holes you just wanna go back and get a good start on to see if that helps . . .

#3 - number 1 handicap hole -- I don't remember how I wound up on the edge of the left woods, but I hit a sparkling 7iron from there to reach in regulation. . . two putt par.

#4 a medium length par 4 where I hit a not so solid drive, then another sparkling 7iron above the hole . . .19 ft hooking downhill that I managed to bounce gently off the pin . . . we were sorta casual about pulling the pin, playing with the grandson and S-I-L, just to expedite play, if you see how I mean . . . our playing partner agreed I could count it as a birdie . . . 8^) . .

#5 in PBFU mode I hooked into the left woods . . . got my distance, but I looked to be in jail over there. I hit some shortiron out of the woods thru a window in the trees -- another sparkling shot that made me question "who needs practice?" It helped that the green orients that way (opened up to the left side). . . 2putt par.

#6 again fills the mind with doubts, at least for the first timer . . .I used those two big trees in the middle as a target, but sure enough they were in the way of my 2nd shot . . .I tried a knockdown hook, but just came up short and couldn't get up-and-down. bogey

#7 is just more of the same, keep it straight and on the short grass and you'd be fine, but I hooked again into the woods . . . full of hubris from my iron play I tried drive a 7 iron thru a tiny hole in the canopy up high and nicked a branch . . . my 3rd was my patented 3iron scuttle off hardpan under the trees, but it rolled over the green into a bunker . . .triple bogey.

#8 is a kinda fearsome par 3. our pin was in the far back corner. . . I just hit a half 7wood and hoped for the best . . .I tho't it might be high enough, but the green wasn't receptive enough, and it rolled over the back end slope. made a presentable links-style bump-and-run to a makeable par putt, but missed.

#9 is a long goddam dogleg to be the #17 handicap hole, IMVHO. I didn't notice the length, and i did wonder why it took me 3 to reach the green. Bogey.

#10 is a gorgeous hole. I was warned by our playing partner that it played longer than the yardage, but I didn't see why that would bother me, but yes indeed, my 4iron came up short on the front fringe. I actually made par with a good two-putt up the side-sloping hill, which sort of surprised me.

#11 seemed a very ordinary hole to me, but then if you hit a good drive and approach, most holes may seem very ordinary, que no? Par.

#12 had me licking my chops, for an eagle opportunity, but I leaked my drive right into the trees and had to hit a trick shot out into the fairway, short of the creek. Easy from thereto lob up onto the very elevated green and 2 putt, even for me.

#13 back-to-back par5s . . . usually interesting . . .both potentially reachable, IMVHO (501 & 498), but I leaked right again, punched 5iron out to the left side, again, and hit 9iron to the middle of the green.2putt par. I will have to conduct an introspective review as to why par 5s seem easier in the US than in Europe for me . . .8^D . . .

#14 is a long par 4, #2 handicap hole. The regular we were playing with hooked his ball into the woods there on the left and was grumbling about it -- the obvious play, length aside, is to steer way right of those trees, but influenced, I tomahawked my drive over there too . . . I was busy with the grandson on the other side of the fairway while he hit, and when I got over there I looked around for my ball unsuccessfully. "Up here!" called the regular. . . I don't think you'd get away with it in summer when the trees are leafed out, but my seeing-eye ball had not only missed the trees but then bounced in the hardpan backout to the edge of the fairway, just short of a fairway bunker. . . by the scorecard, that drive's only 250 or 260, but it felt like the longest drive of the day. I hit not-quite-full 7wood on a rope to the green. . . there was a tree screening the left 2/3 of the green from me, but I tho't I might get a baby draw out of it. . . I tho't it would be over the green when I hit it but the ball plowed into the front slope, popped up to the right front corner, and sat . . . i had a very long putt for birdie 50+ feet, which I got within 4 ft, so I gave the par a 1 handed give-it-to-myself effort that lipped out, cuz I didn't wanna ruin the good feeling of those first two shots with a 3jack. . . not for competition, for sure, but heck, I'm on vacation, and haven't played in two months, and putting is the weak point, anyway.

#15 is a funny little par 3, uphill and short. . . I caught my shortiron a little thin, and tho't it might even be perfekt, but it stuck in the front slope / false front of the green . . . and easy enough up and down, straight up the slope, even for me.

#16 could be one of the most unfair holes i've ever seen. The regular kindly discussed allthe permutation with me for getting over that giant tree in the fairway and still staying in the fairway, out of the creek. . . I didn't have any yardages to go by . . . He hit is shot over the tree into the first tree over creek and sighed with satisfaction . . . so I tried to do the same . . . what I see now is that you have to hit your drive high and about 245 to do what he did. . . its a little down hill, but I don't think he hit another ball that far all day . . . 8^D . . . it looks like 220 to the creek from the tee, so I *could* conceivably hit a fractional 7wood to get over the tree and short of the creek . . . as it was, my ball came down in the middle of the fairway after ticking the tree . . . still about 170 uphill to the hole. . . I chunked a 4iron, then a wedge, then a chip, then a 2putt double bogey. love to do that one again. but it IS a puzzler.

#17 is another puzzler / breather. . . that is, if you can just bunt your drive out into the fairway and then pop a wedge onto the green, nothing can go wrong. . . if OTOH, like me, you slice over into the rough on the right, and can't quite catch the wedge clean out of the tall grass uneven lie, then you too can have a double bogey . . . 8^D . . .

#18 par3 finishing holes are a hallmark of antique designs, now I think it is probably an inviolable rule that this is Not Done. Par3s slow down play, and we don't want that on the last hole, and in competition it lessens the opportunity for scoreboard movement . . . ordinarily . . . in my case, either irritation at 16-17, or my weary legs meant that I came huge over-the-top and splashed down by the far left edge of the green. . . I just held the pin for the others at that point..

so using Dave's Liberal Vacation Scoring Methodology, I come up with 45-42-87, with one birdie . . . on the back 9, there, I had 6 straight pars to start, before the tricked up 16 & 17th blew my mind. . . or you could say I got tired, too.

That back9 is rather amazing, for a duffer, I guess a good golfer would just tear it up, overpowering the par5s, and ignoring the mental hazards posed in the last 3 holes . . . #10 that plays longer than the card, the back-to-back par5s, followed by the heinously difficult #14, the short par 3, then the unfair #16, the mandatory-birdie-hole #17, and the hit-after-a-long-wait par 3 #18 . . . if you see how I mean . . .

#2 & #8 on the front9 are the only holes that really registered on me . . . just not as interesting as the back . . . a solid 3 on the Scottsdale Scale, I should say, sort of like The 500 Club, or even Sanctuary, in PHX, in the way that the back9 is so much better than the front.

Golf Lesson

2012-01-12T07:43:00.001+01:00

http://framework.latimes.com/2012/01/11/bing-crosby-golf-lesson/

The Art of Golf - Atlanta High Art Museum

2012-01-11T08:00:00.000+01:00

http://www.high.org/Art/Exhibitions/The-Art-of-Golf.aspx

The Art of Golf explores the royal and ancient game as depicted by landscape and portrait artists, photographers, Pop artists and sculptors through the ages. This is the first-ever exhibition devoted to the game by a major American art museum. Comprising approximately 90 works from artists as diverse as Rembrandt, Charles Lees, Norman Rockwell and Andy Warhol, The Art of Golf examines the game's origins, its foundation in Scotland and its growth in America in the 20th century. The exhibition also features a contemporary and interactive video component and large-scale photography, and is accompanied by a full-color catalogue. The Art of Golf continues the High's multi-year partnership with National Galleries of Scotland.

Banning the game . . .

2011-12-23T02:47:00.001+01:00

If I had my act together I would have merged into the entry about Vietnam Golf the recollection that James banned the game back in 1457 . . . casting about for a link to said data, I found this old story (2009) . . .

If you Outlaw Golf, only Outlaws will Golf!

And, of course, oncet you talk about Outlaw Golf, no bunch of polychrome-polyester-wearing effete decadent running dogs comes to mind, but instead the image of some swashbuckling free-booters appears . . . cept that Willie Nelson is probably the real manifestation of Outlaw Golf, with results such as on the golf course he owned, where he said, “That hole was a par 9 yesterday . . . .” Hardly the Calvinistic approach that enables the character-building aspects of The Game . . . just IMVHO, of course . . .

Chávez Takes a Swing at Golf

A 'bourgeois' sport? Or a forced march spoiled?

By DANIEL FREEDMAN

Scots must be shaking their heads. Fresh from nationalizing almost every capitalist enterprise that yields a profit (or used to anyway), Latin American strongman Hugo Chávez has found a new class enemy: golf. Declaring it a "bourgeois" sport, the Venezuelan leader has ordered the shut-down of some of the country's best-known golf courses.

For a socialist like Mr. Chávez, banning golf might be considered, ahem, par for the course, even if he is a bit late to the game. The likes of China, Russia and Cuba banned golf decades ago although today they all enjoy practicing their swing. Perhaps this is exactly the historic precedent Mr. Chávez fears. The Soviet Union built its first golf course in 1988 and a year later the Berlin Wall fell.

Or maybe Mr. Chávez known for his paranoia about alleged Western plots to overthrow him has read up on Scottish history. In 1457, King James II of Scotland banned the game from the hills on which it was created. He argued that golf was a danger to national security as it distracted his soldiers from practicing their archery.

It turns out the king's fears may not have been entirely unfounded. Believing the threat of war had dissipated, his grandson, James IV, a keen golfer, lifted the ban in 1502. Eleven years later, in the Battle of Flodden against the English, Scotland suffered its worst ever military defeat. James himself was killed on the battlefield, along with a large contingent of Scottish nobles (many no doubt golf enthusiasts as well). Superior English archery played its part in the battle's outcome.

There could also be another reason a socialist like Mr. Chávez might dislike golf: The game is rich with religious overtones. Golf prompts many players to think about God and not merely because his name is so often (blasphemously) invoked on the course.

Players surrounded by the natural beauty the Lord created are reminded of the limits of man's ability to conquer it. Consider the elusive hole-in-one, the wind that ruins the otherwise near-perfect swing and the bunkers that upset a quick recovery.

"The Calvinists' ideal testing ground" is how the late British-American journalist Alistair Cooke once described it. "The bunkers, the scrubby gorse, the heather and broom, the hillocks and innumerable undulations of the land itself, were all seen not as nuisances but as natural obstacles, as reminders to all original sinners that in competition with the Almighty, they surely would not overcome."

In that sense, golf threatens to undermine a dictator's personality cult by reminding people of the true ultimate power. That's not the kind of message el presidente would probably like Venezuelans to hear even if he once described Jesus as the world's first socialist.

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970204683204574354203494729722.html

Par Value: Vietnamese Investors Sink Savings Into Golf Memberships

2011-12-23T02:18:00.001+01:00

Coveted Club Slots Are a Hot Commodity; Official Disdain for Sport Drives Up Prices

By JAMES HOOKWAY

HANOI Some Vietnamese government officials are teed off over golf. Transport Minister Dinh La Thang recently banned his staff from playing the game because he said it encourages gambling and makes them late for work.

Vietnamese are snapping up golf club memberships as investments. Pictured, the plush Van Tri Golf Club near Hanoi.

Other Vietnamese see golf rather differently: as a way to hold on to their money after years of booms and busts.

With property prices sliding and the local stock market in free fall, some people here are investing in golf club memberships in a last-ditch bid to protect their savings from being ravaged by soaring inflation and a fading currency.

Prices for club memberships around Hanoi have risen from around $6,000 in 2004 to roughly $30,000 now, with some of the plushest, complete with swimming pools, villas and tennis courts, reaching $130,000. That's not as expensive as top clubs in Japan or Singapore, but it is still a large slice of change in a country where the average income is around $1,200 a year.

"Buying a membership is better than putting cash in the bank, better than putting it in the stock market, and better than putting it into gold," said Do Dinh Thuy, a 48-year-old management consultant, amid the steady thwack of balls being driven out onto a local range here in Hanoi's suburbs. He recently bought a third membership, "and that one's not for playing, it's for investment."

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203802204577066091227404700.html?google_editors_picks=true

Golfer Bobby Gates finds some magic after Disney World collapse

2011-12-07T09:25:00.001+01:00

"Some of our friends got together and did some research," Lauren Gates said. "I don't know how much time it took them to arrive at this, but they said that had Bobby finished just one stroke better in any one of the tournaments where he made the cut, he would have ended up No. 125."

Had there been any doubt about Gates' final status Monday, there was none after he played the 11th hole. He had gone four under on the front nine and stood 218 yards away for his second shot on the 528-yard hole. Then he hit a six-iron to 10 feet and sank the eagle putt.

Lauren, a former Aggies golfer herself, whom Gates calls "my rock," watched the putt drop, knew full well that there was little chance any more bad luck could intervene and responded with tough love.

"Don't give him too much credit," she said. "It was downwind."

http://www.latimes.com/sports/la-sp-dwyre-20111206,0,4206672.column

Flag Touraj

2011-11-21T11:22:00.001+01:00

Mebbe sort of an interesting twist on the strokes touraj, which is not so common here for amateurs . . .

The flag indicates your stroke total, and when you reach that total, you plant your flag, along 7, 8, & 9, the flags were planted all thru Tee to Green . . .8^D . . .

I double bogeyed the first two par 3s, was my main trouble . . . I mean, I count that as 4 strokes I lost, cuz I shouldn't even bogey those holes, and wound up at the 8th tee with 7 strokes left, for a par 3 and a par 5. In desperation I hit my tee shot on #8 par3 10 ft below the hole, jerked the birdie left of the hole 2 inches, easy par, but that meant I had to birdie #9 to finish . . . Totally pureed my drive high up onto the hill, not in the fairway, but with an excellent downhill look into the neck of the dogleg, but I pull-hooked my 7wood into the woods trying to get closer than I really needed to be . . .a 5iron might've done well enuf . . . Punched out of the woods all the way across the fairway behind a bush fir . . . Tried to blunt force a 7iron thru the tree, up the slope, for a miracle, came up 40m short, where I planted my flag. Shoot.

Royal Marianske Lazne, Bohemia, Czech Republic

2011-11-09T09:53:00.001+01:00

6062M (~6600 Yds), Par 72, Slope 130.

They Say:

"The Marianske Lazne Golf Club course may serve as an example of Scottish and Irish golfing architecture from the end of the 19th century. The course lies on an upland plain 787 meters above sea level, built under the governance of Scottish professional Duig. It was opened in 1905. Therefore it is the oldest course in The Czech Republic.

"The course forms a clearly bounded area. Only holes No.2 and 3 go out of the compact course boundaries. They were built in 1978 to replace the non-regular old ones. The greens are relatively small (but well protected by bunkers), especially when compared with newly built courses. Most of the course lies on a plain terrain. It seems to be easy at first sight. However, players find many hazards and places demanding an accurate and technical play.

"It is surrounded by a pine forest so that even on very hot days, it is a fine place to be. The surrounding picturesque landscape is natural, not harmed by any construction or buildings. The air is full of oxygen and saturated with ozone, so that it is a real cure for your lungs."

Played in an Intercompany Golf Match over 2 days . . . First day was wet and cold. 2nd day was sunny and cold . . . 8^) . . . Good course, but not all the holes are interesting . . .

#1 is not nuthin', but it's not much sumthin', neither. Flat, straight. Small Green.

#2 is a good hole. Sort of a blind tee shot, then a risk-reward decision . . . I tried to make myself go for the green in 2 the second day, but couldn't make a solid swing . . . that creek just takes all the fun out of the shot . . . That big green is really steep back-to-front, so if one *could* fly it to the green, it would hold, for sure.

#3 is straight, and uphill. A solid drive and a half-decent 7iron would get you where you want to be. But hitting two solid shots in a row is my challenge, thesedays . . .

#4 another straight, and slightly uphill. Yawn.

#5 is interesting . . . tho' it could also be considered a little gimmicky... that tight dogleg right, enforced with trees, with a bunker pinching the other side of the angle makes the drive a little testy, but if you can get up in the neck it's just a wedge in the rest of the way. Easy green, but the first day there was standing water that slowed the ball to a crawl, so that was tough.

#6 is straight, downhill to the green, narrow (like so many holes here).

#7 is the markee hole here. The first day, we hit a tree on the left trying to cut the corner, hit a 7wood to just below the traps, pitched onto the green, then made a 40 ft bender . . . par on this hole is good enough. The second day, I hit a perfect 5wood 15m short of the creek, then caught a case of the yips like I hadn't had in years. . . couldn't pull the trigger on my 5iron . . . grip felt like it was falling apart in the backswing . . . after 3 backoffs, I just went ahead and tried to hit it, pullhooked into the woods. My partner'd hit a good shot almost where we'd been the day before. I pitched up just off the back of the green. up-and-down from there for bogey was almost as satisfying as the par the day before. That is one heck of a hill going up to the green, as you can see.

#8 is a long par 3 . . . first day was a wipeout . . . 2nd day, with the yips from #7 in my head, I concentrated consciously on technique, which by some odd turn of fate actually resulted in a super shot, a 4iron that came up short of the pin by 3 feet. My partner made the birdie, I don't think I could've, my putting is that bad.

#9 is another par 3 . . . I'm not sure I've seen that before on a "real" golf course, back-to-back par3s. It's a measly 135m, a 7iron I oughtta be able to hit in my sleep, but we bogeyed it twice, missing the green.

#10 is a short par4. Both days, trying NOT to go for the green, I foozled drives. The first day, I turned around and hit a 7iron 4 ft away from the pin, then missed the birdie putt.The second day, bogeyed missing the green.

#11 is the #1 handicap hole: long par4, *skinny* beyond belief, with an elevated green that means you will be trying to up-and-down. Both days, I just *gravitated* a drive upinto the neck of that tiny opening. First day was in the fairway, so we reached greenside in 2, managed a bogey. Second day was in the rough, still soggy, and didn't reach greenside till 3. doublebogey.

#12 is long wide flat par5 . . . easy enough to reach the green in 3 and 2putt for par.

#13 is a long par3. Perfect ordinarily for my 7wood. So I hit a half5wood in the cold & wet conditions. Had this for birdie the second day. No go.

#14 short par4 dogleg right around deep woods. The first day I was too conservative and wound up still 80m away from the pin (only 60 from the front of the green), so the second day I wound up on the edge of the woods trying to *annie oakley* thru the trees. Not recommended. way wide left is much better.

#15 is one of those short par4s with a bunch of bunkers that makes you put the bigdown down and hit 5iron instead . . . once I do that, of course, if the second shot isn't stiff, then I'm unhappy, and whether a 7iron or 8iron, it just can't keep up with such elevated expectations . . . 8^D . . . This is my playing partner the second day, *Wrong Way Connolly* . . . 8^D . . .what a pair we make with our unorthodox styles. . . comes from his youth playing Irish Hurling he says . . . I say Who Am I To Criticize . . . 8^D . . . he hit some great shots during the day, bailed us out several times when I flaked out.

#16 is another great hole, psychological-impediment-wise . . . that big water hazard on the right combines with the woods on the left to make a very intimidating tee shot . . . IF I could ever hit one good shot I could do it everytime, but I'm O-fer-2 so far, using my partners balls both times . . . First day, I did hit a 7wood up short-left of the green so we salvaged a tap-in bogey, and the second day I hit a 5wood right at the pin that was so good it drew gasps from idle passers-by walking their dog . . .but it was in the front trap . . . got out of the trap expertly, but missed the 4ft par putt . . . those two missed par putts on this hole is what I remember most. . . very upsetting.

#17 is along uphill par5, both days we were looking at *very* makeable par putts after some mis-hits, but we made neither . . . come to think of it... those upset me too . . . 8^D . . . Those traps that cross the fairway at 130m are *right* where you want to put your second shot . . . like there was malice of forethought in their placement . . . 8^D . . .Somehow that water hazard seems more intrusive in real life, too, closer to the fairway and green.

#18 I like to finish strong, regardless . . . but both days, I was just so wore-out, cold, and irritable that I let the drives wander off into the trees on the right, where then you're looking at a safety, then a LONG shot into the green . . . first day we floundered, but the second day, I had some sudden insight into why my irons were all going left and hit an 8iron 17ft below the hole. My partner made a good run at the bogey putt, so there was nothing left but for me to make it, which felt like a victory of some sort.

So a good course, tho' with too many mundane holes to actually be great. But #7, #11, & #16 are *great* holes, and #14, #15, & #16 are good holes . . . I would say tho' that the par3s and par5s are largely undistinguished. That back 9 really is very interesting, in retrospect I would have to agree, starting with the *theoretically* driveable par4 #10, the impossibly skinny #11, the forgettable #12 par5, the long par3 #13, the amusing #14, the bridling #15, the heinous #16, the long #17 par5,and the puttable #18 . . .

s'hot

2011-11-08T17:03:00.000+01:00

http://community.livejournal.com/vintagephoto/4450153.html

Golf Club Austerlitz,Moravia, Czech Republic

2011-11-03T13:05:00.003+01:00

http://www.agrt.cz/

6428M (~7000 Yds), Par 72, Slope 138 (HAH!)

They say: "Golf course in Austerlitz was designed by renowned golf architectural offices Austrian Hans-Georg Erhardt of Steyer, who is one of Europe's leading golf architects. Irrigated field, it is difficult and interesting natural obstacles, deep bunkers and artificially constructed lakes."

#1 Not for the last time on this course, you need to drive between the two water hazards . . . this 'un's pretty wide, and, of course I blasted my drive, oh, 5 or 10 yds past 'em anyway . . . I tho't I had plenty of club to reach the green in 2, but my 5wood wound up 20m short . . . I just scuttled a 5iron, scottish-style past the hole and 3 putted for a bogey.

#2 I was by myself, behind a 3some in a cart, so I moseyed langourously between shots . . . didn't want to press them, but I did want to finish before dark . . . this second hole kinda demonstrates (to me) the newness of the course, and the way that it might "grow in" as it matures. I just -- more or less intentionally -- hammer-pulled my ball across the dogleg into the stubby rough in the midst of those trees . . .the trees are too small - now -- to really be a problem . . .the hole is short enough, you could just stay in the fairway, but there were some moguls out there I didn't like the look of . . . my wedge distance was uncertain, so I came up 30ft short of the pin, just in the fringe. 3putt bogey.

#3 is the first of several semi-blind tee shots, didn't bother me, it's only 280m, but severely uphill so I didn't figger there was too much trouble over the water . . . bladed my short iron over the green, and didn't get up and down, even after I played a masterful chip-back from against the 3meter high stone wall -- bogey.

#4 so I was getting a little bored with the course introduction, here . . . easy bogeys is not interesting golf . . . but this next tee shot was visually perplexing . . . I had no idea how far it was to the jumblies, so I just hit it as straight as I could: a high beeline that bounced hard against the slope and rabbited up over onto the side slope next to the fairway . . . I mis-calculated the uphill discount for my short iron, but that was fine, since the flag was on the front . . . had an 18ft sidehill putt for birdie -- you might see the ball right of the pin on the green . . .broke almost 4ft . . . 3putt bogey.

#5 is a long uphill slog slowly uphill, still . . . I tho't I was reconciled to bogey golf, but apparently that last missed birdie putt did aggravate me . . . I hit a short low slice drive to the middle of the fairway, then foozled a 3wood -- from overswinging I realized a hole or two later . . . I usta call this "letting the poodle off the leash" meaning a composure breakdown . . . doesn't happen so often now, but here it was . . . hit another half-assed 3wood short of the green, wedged long and 2putted double bogey . . . on a par 5, dangit.

#6 seems like a little relief is in order, but its a very long par4, even down hill. I was still overswinging and my putting didn't improve, so another double bogey.

#7 turns back up hill, and I resolved to get my swing back under control . . . I mean the course is pretty wide open here, and the wind howling over the hilltop shouldn't make so much difference . . . but it did. Bogey.

#8 -- finally -- a par 3 downhill breather . . . for some reason I resisted hitting a half7wood and opted for a 3iron, which I didn't ketch solid . . . hit my westtexas 7iron chip too solid, 12ft past the hole. putt. putt. bogey.

#9 is not the #1 handicap hole - that's that dang par5 #5. . . since the tees were all under construction I went back to the championship tees instead of forward to the temporary tees . . .what hubris . . . I didn't even reach the fairway with a solid shot to the left side of the divided fairway . . . I don't quite understand the thinking here, design-wise . . .the rough is a little penal, true, but there's just not enough going on here to justify the divided fairway. I took an 8, true, but that was re-mortification due to the temporary tees and my overswinging. . . I don't see why anyone would go to the right fairway here . . . it just makes the hole longer . . . but that is a tough green with a front pin position . . . the bunkers are in play and that false front on the right side makes the landing area smaller than one hopes for.

#10 . . .ok. we've made it to the top of the hill . . . nowhere near the clubhouse . . . as far away as you can be . . . they do have a little temporary snack-shack by #9 tee / #10 green, but it wasn't in operation . . .but you see the theory of the overall layout now: uphill front9 holes, then downhill on the back9. Interesting concept . . .but I was pretty beat up by then, and wore out . . . good course to have golf carts, like the 3some in front of me . . . I stayed up with them, but dang, at times. Still I was hopeful that I could have some good holes going downhill. . . powdered my teeshot on 10, just hit it as hard and straight as I could, to see what would happen. It went in the bunker on the left . . . 8^/ . . . so I was closeenough to go for the green in 2, but the lie was uncooperative. My 5iron came out week, even, so I still had a long shortiron that I hit fat. my 7iron chip rolled 30 ft past the pin on the cusp of a large circular tier. Amazing green.I think you could play this hole for decades without getting tired of it.

#11 . . .apparently they have enough downhill they didn't have to leave the holes too close together here . . . it's a good 100m walk to the next tee . . . and same thing as on 10, into the bunker I go, foozle out, wedge on. putt putt bogey. . . thinking the whole time, if it wasn't uphill, I'd go back to 10 and start over . . . that may be wishful thinking, this is the #2 handicap hole, I just think I could do better. Wasn't in a single trap coming up the hill. go figger.

#12 what an awesome view of Austerlitz. After some calculus I figgered 5iron, which was probably correct. If I hit the green, from the height, I guess it would have staid on the front, and not rolled on back, but as it was I was in the second left bunker. Splashed out short, putt putt bogey. The interest in the second hole was all that kept me from going back up to 10 for a restart, well, that and the hill climb.

#13, it's a shock to realize how far uphill I have climbed on the front9, to see the downhill inclines of 10-11-12-13 . . . many courses have 1 hole like that, or even 2, but 4, four! consecutive is a master layout. 13 perplexed me, with its downhill sharp right dogleg . . .one thinks it's possible to drive the green, but the risk/reward is pretty severe . . . I finally settled on a safe 4iron, but that was woefully short . . . I cudda hit a 5wood over the traps safely. Irritation raised its ugly head again here, so I hadda foozle a couple irons to reach the green, then 3putt.

#14 basically back down to the valley floor, now, this is a straightforward par3 . . . I just hit a half7wood without worrying too much about whether it was too much, beeline drive to the right side of the green, and it kicked over off the humps over towards the hole, on the back of the green . . . not really a makeable birdie, but an easy par . . . finally.

the season Americans call Indian Summer has been adopted over here in europe, too, sometimes to describe the surprisingly warm weather . . . in fact, the czechs will translate Babi Leto as Indian Summer, but since I couldn't rationalize them using Indian Summer, I persisted till it was clear to me that Babi Leto means Grandmother SUmmer, because of these filmy tendrils of white somethings that drift about during the re-warmed weather, because it looks likes grandmother's hair . . . 8^D . . .

#15 on the card looks like a reachable par5 . . . my drive was long and in the middle of the fairway, just past the traps, but I still had something like 250m to the green . . . it's all kinda uphill again, I guess is the kindest thing you could say . . . I flaired my 3wood over into the right rough, right at the 100m marker. Hit a 9iron to the middle of the green, 2putt-par. . . woohoo, 2 in a row!

#16 was not much of a challenge to me now, in my newly refound competency. Driver, 7iron, 3putt, tho'. . .8^/ . . . My camera batteries had died, so I have clipped this photo from their web site. 16 is coming downhill from the left, 17 is a par3 over water to the right.

#17 was a total miscarriage. There were some people kinda wandering around the water's edge by the tee that put me off, so, on a 129m par3, I missed the green and didn't get up and down . . . of all the holes on this course I want to play again to show I can do better, this is one of 'em.

#18 requires another drive between two water hazards, with no malice o'foretho't, I just drove it on the fly between and beyond. Mrs walked out from the cabanas and took this photo from the back of the green from the top of a mound for me .. . that IS how steep it is. I tried to hit a half 7iron the 115 - 120m to the green, and the ball bounced off the falsefront and rolled back down 20m. Dam'. Gimme another try on this'un, too, please! No up and down here, neither.

I love the brutally creative uphill-then-downhill layout of this course, with the lop-sided scorecard (par 37-35, only 1 par3 on the front, and 3 on the back). I may question the design of #9, and possibly identify #6 & #7 as less-than-inspired, but truth-to-tell, I wouldn't criticize a hole on the course: it all fits together so well, that to change one hole would affect the others. There's not really a breather hole in the mix. I can't pick a favorite, either . . . which is always a good sign . . . 8^) . . .

I think it is obvious that this is a rather new course, and needs to do some maturation . . . a few trees growing in would make it harder (more obstacles) and easier (easier to visualize & frame shots) . . . the greens are still kinda grainy, the ball doesn't roll true, which given the contorturedness of these greens is a little unfair . . . 8^) . . . The bunkering is very intelligent all thru the course, both on the uphill and downhill holes, and the mounding around the greens is really attractive and pertinent.

The clubhouse is very nice, the restaurant is justifiably a local favorite, and the cabanas such as we staid in were very nice.

I give this place a 2 on the scottsdale scale, with a note that in a couple of years, it could be a "1". Outstanding.

Golf Club Telc, Moravia, Czech Republic

2011-11-03T13:03:00.001+01:00

http://www.golf-telc.cz/
6252M (~6800 Yds), par 72, Slope 132

#1 is or was-for-me-that-day a tough starting hole. Uphill. Mid-irons were not working, all day, so 3 to the green. . . then 2 putts: 1 grinder then one 1-hander (being good to myself, a gimme, no matter how far)

#2, more of the same.

#3 like #1 on one of the courses at Novy Amerika . . . tight off the tee, but wide open beyond . . . at least it was downhill . . . sliced the bejezus out of it, but it was short of the water in long, wet rough, behind those bushy trees . . . so my 9iron came up short . . . not a chunk, per se, but ineffective, nonetheless.

#4 is an attractive par 3 . . .not too much too it, but that green is very contortured. Flared a 4iron right, pitched right at the hole, but it rolled off 20ft. 2putt bogey.

#5 another tight, uphill driving hole that mitigates the short distance on the scorecard . . . my solid drive was pulled left enough to hit that rightmost tree on the left solid, leaving me in jail. Punched a 3iron up to the top, basically just a safety, wedge the green, 2 putt bogey.

#6 is a nuthin hole. . . I musta played indifferently. . . don't remember a thing.

#7 is a nuthin hole, but I had a 1putt par, mainly because it's downhill, I guess.

#8 is somethin . . . a very short risk-reward par4 . . . I just-didn't catch the ball in the screws, but it was very straight . . . wound up on the fringe of the green, but no up and down . . . the birdie putt bounced off the hole.

#9 another risk-reward proposition, par 5. After going thru my checklist, I just went ahead by my book and hit my tee shot over the creek 205m away . . . if I hit that shot on #8 I'm over the green, but I had a simple birdie from there. . . or shudda . . . mangled a fairway wood and short iron, 2 putt bogey

#10 nuthin' medium length straight, slightly downhill par 4. I am perfectly at peace with my mediocrity now, bogeys are fine.

#11, yeh, fine . .. hah . . . I came over the top and hooked my 5wood 40m left of the green. . . rough was tough . . . chunk, chunk, putt, putt, double bogey.

#12 is an awful little par4... oddly enough, I love it because it looks like some of the holes I have designed in my JN6 game, where the dogleg cants to the outside, unlike a velodrome. My drive wound up just over that trap on the right, on the downhill slope from the bunker... so my midiron didn't get more distance, it got less . . . kinda uphill from there, maybe that's why. Wedge, putt, putt, bogey.

#13 nuthin par5, straight, flat. Hard to remember it at all. I DO remember suddenly remembering to use my legs / lowerbody on the 8iron approach to the green, which I hit solid, but blocked over the right side of the green into the fringe. Bogey.

#14 had me lickin' my chops again . . . figgerin' now that I had remembered some basic technique my irons would be solid and accurate. So I hit my patented half-driver high over the telephone pole into the marshy fairway short of the two hazards . . . driver was so straight today most of the time, it's a measure of how bad the rest of my game is I wasn't even par. I hunted around for a dry place to take relief from the casual water, then put my newly remembered quality swing on a short iron, and blocked it right again pin-high. Chip-putt-putt bogey. Sigh.

#15 is kinda of mirror image to #12, dogleft right instead of left, and a little flatter, without the cant . . . but the dogleg is a little sharper . . . was another weak mid-iron, wedge, putt-putt for bogey. pfffftthhhht.

#16 simple par 3 with another tiered green and a big hole where it looks like maybe they will add a bunker?

#17 ?

#18 is another risk/reward connundrum . . . the fairway doglegs almost 90o left once you get across a little creek 200m down the fairway, so I just concentrated on getting over, and flared my drive right of center... still in the fairway, but instead of a 7iron, if you just challenge the corner the tiniest bit, I had a 3iron . . . foozle, chunk, pitch, putt, putt. finishing strong with a double bogey

. . . I was in a hurry . . . we wanted to get to Mikulov and look around there.

So, there's some very nice holes here: #3, 4, 5, 8, & 9 make a very interesting front 9 with some breather-holes mixed in, very fair . . .and #s 12, 14, 15, & 18 almost make the Back9 as good . . .I'm not sure that it would be that interesting after a few iterations, but for the first timer, unsure of the meterages and the blind shots, it's a test for sure. . . I do think the turf could be conditioned with some sand, the mounding around the greens is a little inept, architecturally (too small, too ugly, and ineffectively irrelevant to play, if you see how I mean).

But the resort is cool, with a 2lane bowling alley, tennis courts, and an indoor swimming pool. It's just picturesque as all get out, bein' an old mill and all, and there's art objects all over the property . . . all in all, a 3 on the Scottsdale scale, worth a visit and even re-visits.

Tiger! The Musical!

2011-10-30T22:32:00.000+01:00

Immediately, there is suspicion that TIGER WOODS is not telling the whole story. Women come out of the woodwork, claiming to have had affairs with TIGER WOODS.

COCKTAIL WAITRESS:
We had a good time
And he reached the green
In only two shots
If you know what I mean

PARTY GIRL:
We went out one night
And it was such fun
He did what he does:
Shot a hole in one.

ASPIRING ACTRESS:
He bought me a drink
And he asked me my name
Then he played off the first tee
It was a skins game

Read more http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/goingson/2009/12/fragments-from-tiger-the-musical.html#ixzz1cIr6bOc9

The Triumph of Kvjetaak

2011-10-24T15:21:00.001+02:00

From 2009 & 2011, Kvjetaak's Season Championship Trophys

End of the Year BookKeeping . . .

2011-10-24T11:04:00.001+02:00

So Luke Donald is emphatically #1 . . . but Webb Simpson must be awarded the Greg Norman Snakebit award for 2011 . . . in 2 straight weeks the winner of the tournament has lapped him in the last lap with 6 straight birdies . . . .8^0 . . .

Yani Tseng wins at Yang Mei over Amy Yang, for her 10^th victory this year . . . Y-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-n-g, that’s strong . . . 8^)

Sergio wins on his home course, for the first time in 3 years . . . 8^o . . . (Yawn) . . .

KJ wins the CJ at JeJu, SK by 2 . . . 8^D

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2011/10/23/SPR31LLBSK.DTL

Mickelson Buys Sanctuary . . .

2011-10-12T15:24:00.001+02:00

Noted by our on-site Observer, Mr Science

Phil Mickelson Buys Golf Course in Arizona

By mustang6560 on 5/4/11

Phil Mickelson is the beneficiary of an over-populated golf course market in Arizona.

The golf star and his agent recently purchased Sanctuary Golf Course in Scottsdale for a cool $2.2 million. Not a bad price considering five years ago that course was probably valued near $20 million.

Golf clubs all over Arizona, from Superstition Mountain in Gold Canyon to Seven Canyons in Sedona, have been hurt. But the economic fallout is especially noticeable in Scottsdale, the pinnacle of the Valley's sprawling golf landscape of close to 200 courses.

There are just too many golf courses for the metropolitan Phoenix market, said Roger Garrett, an Insight Land and Investments partner who has sold golf courses for 25 years.

I live in Mississippi where there are just over 200 golf courses in the entire state. In metropolitan Phoenix alone, there are 200 courses. Granted, there are more people in Phoenix than in the entire Magnolia state, but you wonder how they ever thought they would be able to support all 200 plus courses. Tack on an economic recession and a crumbling housing market and you have yourself a Grade-A problem. But hey, that's capitalism, right? The boom and bust cycle. The minority of people boom while the majority bust. And then the vultures come in and pick up the scraps (I'm not hating, Phil).

http://www.oobgolf.com/content/fore+play/1-4723-Phil_Mickelson_Buys_Golf_Course_in_Arizona.html

Phil Mickelson is 41 years old. His putting prowess has disappeared, he won just one tournament each of the past two years after multiple victories the previous six seasons, and kids half his age are winning majors.

Yet Mickelson is convinced that the PGA Tour hasn't passed him by. In fact, he believes his career is about to get a second wind.

"As good as these young players are, there are glaring weaknesses in their game," Mickelson said Tuesday. "I feel like being out there (on Tour) for 20 years, being able to work with top-notch instruction and have the practice really apply to my performance, that some of my best years are coming."

Mickelson, the Arizona State product who now lives in the San Diego area, was in north Scottsdale to promote the newly christened and re-designed McDowell Mountain Golf Club, formerly known as the Sanctuary Golf Course.

http://www.azcentral.com/sports/golf/articles/2011/10/11/20111011phil-mickelson-still-confident-in-game.html#ixzz1aZc95HqQ

Its Only Golf But I Like It

2011-10-05T13:16:00.001+02:00

http://thisisnthappiness.com/page/599

Mt Kum Gang NK

2011-10-05T08:30:00.001+02:00

When is a golf tournament not just a tournament? When it's in North Korea.

Mao Zedong's 'ping-pong diplomacy' thawed Chinese-US ties. Could Kim Jong-il's 'golf club diplomacy' do the same for North Korean-US relations?

By Bryan Kay, Correspondent / October 4, 2011

SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA

Call it "golf club diplomacy." North Korean leader Kim Jong-il’s latest charm offensive involves a golf tournament, open to one of his country’s rarest sights: outsiders.

Mr. Kim may well be taking a page from 1971. That's when Mao Zedong, then leader of Communist China, famously invited American table tennis players to his country for a series of matches against local stars of the game. The move, later labeled “ping-pong diplomacy,” led to a thaw in Chinese-US relations.

North Korea's latest attempt at detente – the use of golf to entice a new branch of tourists – represents a departure from decades in the shadows as a notorious recluse. Desperate for foreign currency amid a cut in aid and reportedly crippling food shortages, the unlikely quest for foreign visitors, say observers, will mean striking a balance between tapping the market of adventure tourists and ensuring the visitors gain as little access to locals as possible.

North Korea recently gave the green light for the tournament, dubbed the DPRK Amateur Golf Open, to take place in next May at the Pyongyang Golf Course, which is about 27 kilometers from the capital and next to a military range. Not incidentally, this is the very golf course where Kim Jong-il's is said to have scored a "five holes-in-one" in his first-ever game.

http://www.csmonitor.com/World/Global-News/2011/1004/When-is-a-golf-tournament-not-just-a-tournament-When-it-s-in-North-Korea?google_editors_picks=true

As for the kind of experience tourists can expect? Ian Garner, tournament director, paints a more surreal picture of the course environment.

“The golf course wasn't designed as well as courses on the amateur circuits in Europe and America,” he says. “It was about the experience – the experience of soldiers patrolling the course, the experience of playing in a country that is so closed to the rest of the world.”

Diaries

2011-09-30T16:34:00.001+02:00

Wife's Diary:

Tonight, I thought my husband was acting weird. We had made plans to meet at a nice restaurant for dinner. I was shopping with my friends all day long. So I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment on it. Conversation wasn't flowing, so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so we could talk. He agreed, but he didn't say much.

I asked him what was wrong; He said, 'Nothing.' I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset? He said he wasn't upset, that it had nothing to do with me, and not to worry about it. On the way home, I told him that I loved him. He smiled slightly, and kept driving. I can't explain his behavior I don't know why he didn't say, 'I love you, too.' When we got home, I felt as if I had lost him completely, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there quietly, and watched TV. He continued to seem distant and absent. Finally, with silence all around us, I decided to go to bed. About 15 minutes later, he came to bed. But I still felt that he was distracted, and his thoughts were somewhere else. He fell asleep; I cried. I don't know what to do. I'm almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster.

Husband's Diary:

A four putt; who the hell four putts?

Moses, Jesus, & the Old Man

2011-09-22T14:05:00.001+02:00

Mojžíš, Ježíš a starý pán spolu hrají v nebi golf. Mojžíš zahajuje hru. Usadí míček, míří k jamce za jezírkem a odpálí. Míček letí a padá do jezírka. Mojžíš však zvedá hůl, vody se rozestupují a míček se po vodním dně dokutálí na břeh, dva metry od jamky.

Ježíš nechce zůstat pozadu. Připraví míček a střílí stejným směrem. Ale i jeho míček se pomalu snáší na hladinu jezírka. Ježíš zvedá svou hůl a míček se po dopadu na vodní hladinu, navzdory přírodním zákonům, po hladíně dokutálí ke břehu. Zastaví se metr od jamky.

Na řadě je starý pán. Ledabyle ťukne do míčku a ten se odrazí doprostřed jezírka. Tam se zázračně odrazí a letí k nebi. Letadlo nad golfovým hřištěm ho odpinkne na dálnici. Míček se zařadí do levého pruhu a předjede tirák s návěsem. Odbočí zpět k hřišti, proletí branou, po cestičce se dokutálí k jamce a spadne přímo do ní.

Mojžíš se nakloní k Ježíšovi a zašeptá: „Já opravdu nerad hraju golf s tvým taťkou!"

Moses, Jesus and the old man are playing golf in heaven. Moses startedthe game. Settle the ball goes to the hole for the pond and explodes. The ball flies and falls into the lake. Moses, however, raises the rod, the watersplits the ball after the water bottom dokutálí ashore, two feet from the hole.
Jesus wants to be left behind. Prepare the ball and shoots the same direction. But the ball slowly to the surface suffers lake. Jesus raised his stick and ball after impact on water levels, despite the laws of nature, the surface dokutálí to shore. He stops three feet from the hole.
At least, the old man. Casually taps the ball and it bounces off the middle of the lake. There is miraculously bounces and flies to heaven. Airplane over the golf course odpinkne him on the highway. The ball shall be placed inthe left lane and overtake tirák with a semitrailer. Turns back to theplayground gate flips after the dokutálí path to the hole and fall right into it.
Moses to Jesus leans and whispers: "I really do not like to play golf withyour dad!"

The Key to Putting: Not Thinking

2011-09-05T08:58:00.001+02:00

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424053111904716604576544542323806566.html

Dave Stockton suddenly seems to be the "it" instructor on the subject of putting. Current or recent students include Rory McIlroy, Phil Mickelson, Matt Kuchar, Adam Scott, Yani Tseng and Suzann Pettersen. But he's actually been teaching other pros for years—just more quietly.

"In those days, I just wanted to play. I didn't want people coming up all the time and asking me questions. So when I worked with someone, I'd tell them, 'You don't owe me anything, I just want you not to tell anybody that I helped you,' " he told me this week.

He advocates minimal attention to mechanics, no practice strokes and rolling the golf ball smoothly, like an artist applying paint to a canvas. His most successful early student was Annika Sörenstam. She credits Stockton for helping take her from a two-win 1999 LPGA season to 24 wins over the next three years.

GCP #5 new Tee

2011-08-15T13:28:00.002+02:00

New tee at Golf Club Praha, #5 . . . it’s been there for a few years, anyway, but never used . . .

Played it first time yesterday . . . instead of a 6 or half5, I hit a full 3iron, against the wind, uphill, to an awkward angle . . .

From the normal tee, 145m, 4m higher elevation, it’s a much friendlier approach: if you land right, the slope will pitch you back onto the green, maybe . . . as before left is just death.

Apparently they’re changing the green contours, too, making it peanut shape instead of bean shape, so I was in the enlarged fringe, on the big slope leading to that back tier. Whoa!

Hole was ‘pretty’ hard before, now it’s a bear . . . and I think, design-wise, a sorta breather is a nice consideration after the Big Bear of a par 5 #4.

Prazsky Pohar - 3rd Round - Hostivar

2011-08-06T18:40:00.004+02:00

Well, so first, I have to do a little housekeeping . . .

Round 2 at Hodkovicke was not a success for me . . . 49-49=98 in the rain, but the rain wasn’t what bothered me . . . just miserable putting . . . I wisht I could blame it on the rain and the sub-standard greens, but I tho’t the course conditions were good. Good enough to make me regret some of the harsh things I said last time about Hodkovicke . . . it’s still mostly flat, but it’s a good muni-quality course . . . there weren’t as many mosquitos this time and I was ready for ‘em anyway, so let’s just say it: Dave’s putting sucks, and when Dave’s putting sucks, he doesn’t score . . . no matter how close he gets . . . missed a 3 footer for par on #4 that told me all I needed to know . . . I didn’t really total it up, but easily 8 or 9 3putts, and a slew of missed, makeable 1 putts . . . wound up with 26 stableford points so not a total disaster, but . . .

I had my first birdie in a coon’s age on #18 . . . a 250m par 4 with a green heavily bunkered, enuff so that I don’t feel tempted to let the big dog out . . . I hit 5wood both times around . . . first time: popped it up into the right rough; caught a flyer on my approach, to the back of the green; 3putted from there . . . SOP . . . 2^nd time: gravitated a 5wood high down the middle to 30m short of the green; popped a 1/3Sw onto the front of the green that rolled right by the cup . . . I tho’t it might go in; finally made that one knee-knocker (3ft) for my birdie . . . No Indignity Too Small, that’s what I always say . . . 8^D . . . I did also play the par 5 #8 perfectly the first time thru, but missed the birdie with a putt from the fringe a foot and a half to the left . . . jeebus . . .

Anyway . . . today . . . took two busses to get to Hostivar . . . the change didn’t go well . . . first bus was late or something, so I calculated that the next bus would get me there with minutes to spare, so still ok, that’s the margin I had allowed for . . . unfortunately . . . I had selected the wrong stop . . . I jumped off according to my plan, but quickly recognized that I was not at the right place, from the prior visits . . . so I desperately hoofed it down the street to the next busstop, hoping it would be where I wanted to be . . . so I had a nice warmup of a 1 klic hike before my round . . . 8^) . . .paid for the tournaj expeditiously, tended to Nature’s Call, stripped off my rain suit, since the sun was coming out, and huffed up to the first tee, Howdied everbody, the starter said ‘You go first, and I was ready . . . but as I headed to the tee, the punk starter said, “And next time, please come earlier!” . . . .

I didn’t turn around, just went ahead, but I said, “Dude, I missed my bus.” Then hit a jaw-dropping majestic drive down the left side . . . didn’t bother me . . . and he STFU . . . I was partnered with a couple of Czech natives and another woman . . . couldn’t have been better company . . . they spoke very good English (even if somewhat limited), and were just very amiable. On the second hole, after I blasted another drive 50m past the pack, the other woman Anna told me, “You must be a very good golfer!”

“Well,” I demurred, “I play sort of an American Game, you know, long on power and short on strategy” . . . 8^) . . . “If I could putt,” I added, ‘I *would* be dangerous!”

“Dangerous?” she guffawed . . . hadn’t heard that sorta English afore, I guess . . . 8^) . . .

And that was the story of this round, Big Drives Down The Middle, pretty good Approaches, miserable short game & putting . . . wound up with a 41-43=84, and I *know* I had 4 3putts a side . . . I don’t think I had any 1putt pars (and no birdies) . . . so this duffer cain’t complain about 84 . . . but D-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-d-e, I’d had a 37 on the front without those 3putts, and on the back, I finished double-bogey, par, and quadruple-bogey in a flurry of bad-putting and club-throwing-temptations . . .

This lowered my handicap to 14.7, which means I am gonna have to fix that putting our I’m gonna be a perpetual also-ran . . . .and now that I’ve won 3 of the last 4 tournaj I’ve entered, I kinda got usta winning, if you see how I mean . . .

My prizes for this tournaj win were a cute little trophy, a blotto of slivovice, a coupon for a couples treatment at a beer spa (if you’ve ever heard of such a thing), a book of golf tips (in czech, natch), and, OH! a sleeve of golf balls . . . I put ém with my other balls in my bag and forgot . . .

Now comes the weird part . . . I won the B-flight first leg of the Prazsky Pohar, because my dilatory play over the last year-and-a-half had raised me to 18.1, and the cut-off for A-group was 18 . . . I knew this was gonna cause problems . . . 8^D. . . so after that round (81 strokes / 46 stableford points ) my handicap was lowered safely into the A-flight to 15.1 . . .so I was competing in the A group for the next two rounds, and they award the Prague Cup based on the total number of stableford points *in your flight* . . . even after the scores were in, they didn’t make any announcements for over an hour, and I figger it was me causing the consternation . . . I do feel kinda robbed . .. cuz all I got was a 2^nd place cup for B-Flight, because there was some sand-bagger that did the same thing from C to B that I had done from B to A, if you see how I mean . . . 8^D . . . another weird thing is he sits about 10 feet away from me in my office, in different groups, so I didn’t know him, never talked to him, but he got the giant 1^st place trophy for B-Flight, while some young flatbelly I know from Motol got the 1^st place in A-Flight . . . 8^D . . . my prize for that is the very nice smaller sized cup and some coupons for free rounds at the 3 courses of the Prazsky Pohar. . . .aint’ that sumthin’ . . .

Possibly, my best hole . . . totally gravitated my driver 250M down the left side (right side is OB and railroad tracks) . . . then skyed a 9iron with a divot so big it hurt my right wrist . . . my partners were calling it a pizza . . . Seve & Sergio call them "pork chops", I told them . . . it looked like a calzone, more than anything else . . . missed the birdie... I was the closer ball in the pic . . . but you can see the ball mark in front of the hole . . . with a divot like that you'd think it would stick more . . .

Then on #6, I just wanted to point out the only major change I had seen on the course... they've converted that bunker on the right side of the green from a very unusual feature that I liked: an outcrop of stone . . . if you miss that green right, that's a devil of a bunker they tell me, but if you had hit that stone work your ball might've caromed any direction 50 m . . . I know mine did . . . 8^D

Prvni Misto, A-Flight, GCP Tournaj

2011-07-24T08:58:00.001+02:00

Won my first A-Flight Tournament . . .

That’s two-tournaj-in-a-row, if you can believe it . . .

43-47=90, 33 Stableford points off a 15.2 handicap . . .

I was the only entrant in the A-Flight whose handicap wasn’t raised . . .

Altho’ the front9 was almost satisfactory, my back9 was very disappointing . . .

I tho’t it was just me and my bum knee,

but apparently the high wind was throwing a lot of people off their game . . .

The wind didn’t bother me at all, tho’ I had a couple of shots blown off line,

and it did seem that into-the-wind was tougher than with-the-wind was easy,

but I spent all my extra strokes where I always do,

in my short game & putting . . .

I still putted well most of the day, lots of one-putts,

But I had 6 on two par 3s, floundering around,

And my I took multiple shots to get out of the sand at least 3 times.

Still no birdies . . . which is really wearing on this boy . . .

My closest miss of a birdie was on the awesomely long par 5 #4,

Crushed my drive, but the turf was so wet I got no roll, that made for just average distance,

Hooked my 7wood 2^nd shot so bad it wound up in front of the #5 tee, but with a clear shot at the green,

Hit the best 6iron of my life to 8ft past the pin, a putt I KNOW, I have had before,

But the dang thing did NOT break right like it was sposed to . . .

A very galling par . . . 8^) . . .

Finished 5-6-7, bogey, triple, double,

which I attributed to my bad knee – I’ve NEVER hit a bad tee shot on #9/#18 before –

and I HATE not to finish strong,

so I was totally amazed to win,

and Kvjetaak was Astonished or Astounded, depending on which is more Amazed . . . 8^D . . .

My prizes were a rain coat, a gimme cap, a golf magazine subscription, and a trophy that is the ugliest thing I have ever loved . . . 8^D . . .

Golf Cheesecake

2011-07-22T14:30:00.000+02:00

http://www.posters.ws/images/880148/are_you_ready_to_score_cheesecake_golfer.jpg

Ft Worth Rules

2011-07-17T15:09:00.002+02:00

Well, the other day, Kvjetaak was telling me how he had to buy a round of drinks for the three ladies in his 4some (lucky dog) because he foozled his t-shot that didn't pass the women's tee . . . Prague Rules, if you see what I mean, but that reminded me of a story about me and my old partner JD, back in Houston . . . )

Well, first of all, I want to thank the Greens Committee for this opportunity to explain our side of the incident which occurred this last weekend. I am fully confident that a complete airing of the facts will vindicate myself and my golf partner of any misconduct. I am sorry that he will be unable to join us today, not due to any reluctance on his part to appearing before the committee, I assure you, but rather because of a physical incapacitation which I am sure you all readily understand. Neither of us would do anything to jeopardize our good standing here at Bear Creek.

I must provide some background prior to that explanation, however, so I will thank you in advance for your patience.

The first thing I want to clear up is that we are not anti-social; it's just that not many other people really want to be outside in the noonday sun in Houston in August. It so happens that it is convenient to our schedule, however, and we don't mind. It was REALLY hot that day, though, and humid. Even the mosquitoes were kind of half-hearted in their pursuit of bare skin.

The second thing I want to say, is that neither J.D. nor I was drinking on the course -- not that I think there is anything wrong with drinking on the course. It is true that we were drinking in the 19th hole bar later, but I think that even our harshest critic would have to admit that was the only sensible place to be and the only prudent thing to be doing after the round we had.

The last thing is that at the par five first hole we ourselves had no idea of the disaster awaiting us; we just had in mind a leisurely 18 holes of golf.

So when I duck-hooked my drive onto the driving range, I wasn't worried. When I did finally find my ball among all the range balls, it was a simple matter to punch a three iron through the trees back out into the fairway with hardly any loss of yardage at all. And when J.D. hit his customary slice among the trees alongside the dry creek bed, it was no challenge to his manly mien to plop a seven iron over the trees back into the fairway. That left us both mid-irons to the green, where we both got pars and J.D.'s was a sandy.

Now I can tell by the restlessness of my audience that something is amiss, but whether it is some unreasonable indisposition to listen to the presentation of our case in an orderly fashion, or a biased inclination to be skeptical our abilities, I don't know. I can perhaps limit myself to a bare recitation of the facts, but I refuse to be brow-beaten into a less than adequate defense.

So, even on the par four second hole, when J.D. had caromed his drive off a boulder in the dry creek crossing the fairway onto the hardpan rough on the right and I had hit mine off the toe onto the froghair of the sixth green, our confidence was still high. It was unfortunate that J.D. pulled his second shot into the water on the far side of the fairway, just as I pushed mine over into the woods on the same side, but somehow we both managed bogeys with good wedges near the hole.

All right, to keep it brief, let me just say that we were both short in the sand on the par three Third -- the ball just doesn't carry in that humid air -- and J.D., who is a better sand player than me got up and down for his par, but I had another bogey.

We were standing on the fourth tee, feeling reasonably good about things, taking our time, when we first saw him, this John Henry Firk, hurrying up to catch up to us. He caught our attention first because of his walk, a kind of double-jointed, bowlegged walk and dragging his clubs in a hand-cart that swung back and forth like a rental trailer when you get going 70; then, because of the way he was dressed, not like any other golfer I ever saw: he was wearing a feed store gimme cap, a western shirt with pearly buttons open to the middle of his chest with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, button-fly blue jeans bagging in the seat and cheap athletic shoes without spikes.

"Cactus," says J.D. "We're in for it, now."

I don't want to leave the wrong impression here. We recognize that day players are an essential part of the club's income. J.D. and I enjoy playing with these itinerants because they add a little variety to our game.

Hurriedly teeing off without this singleton was not an option. The Civilized Etiquette of Golf does not allow this.

"Howdy," he said. "Name's John Henry Firk -- mind if I join you boys in a little pasture pool?"

I don't think I can stress too strongly the misgivings J.D. and I felt, but we were stuck. In retrospect, I can see that all of the following events could have been foretold right then and there. But even so, like when you make eye-contact with a panhandler on a downtown corner, what can you do?

"Whyn't you boys go ahead and tee off while I catch my breath," said John Henry. And without rolling his eyes more than once or twice, J.D. did.

Now, by the fourth hole, J.D. gets an idea how big his slice is going to be that day, and he can allow for it. Four is a long par four dog leg right, which is perfect for J.D. when he hammers it.

"That was right good," said John Henry as we watched J.D.'s ball bounce on the baked earth, "Prob'ly good for 240". A drive like that makes a fellow mellow, and the generous sentiments John Henry expressed so humbly may have caused J.D. to forget his suspicions, but I did not, which caused me to mis-time my sway and toe it down the right hand side along the trees till my natural hook took over and brought it back out into the middle, not as far as J.D.'s, but good for me.

"You boys set a high standard," said John Henry as he addressed the ball. I don't think I'll be telling any secrets if I say John Henry was clearly an autodidactical golfer. He waggled like Will Rogers doing his rope act in the Follies. He shuffled his feet as if he were at a barn dance. He swung like he had picked up a hot branding iron by the wrong end. The ball hopped like a jack rabbit. In April in Houston, that ball would go about 75 yards. In August he got about 175, through the dogleg, into the rough. He was delighted. "Hot Damn," he said, "I'm ready to play now!"

I have already spoken of the character of J.D. He is made of the right stuff. "Good shot," he said, while I was struck speechless. J.D. gently guided me back to our electric cart. John Henry was off like a greyhound, with his hand cart swaying behind him.

J.D. and I are just a couple of duffers, we have no pretensions to greatness, but we do like to preserve a little of the Spirit of St. Andrews in our golf and we felt like playing a round with a rodeo clown might make that difficult.

Since the committee now includes women -- of which I wholeheartedly approve -- I will spare you any description of the iron-play of John Henry Firk. Suffice it to say that only a technique such as his would allow the taking of a divot out of hardpan. After his first iron shot I could watch no more myself, and I could see that J.D. was swallowing hard.

Somewhat shaken, we both missed the green with our third shots, and, after John Henry had rejoined us with a hearty "At least we're all dancin' now", three-putts seemed in order. By this time, if not before, J.D. and I both knew our ball was out of round, in a manner of speaking.

The Fifth was more of the same, with John Henry fearlessly foozling balls left and right, to the detriment of our game. As J.D. moodily puffed his cigarette, twisted around in his seat to watch John Henry do violence to the course with golf form that I cannot even bear to recollect, we bantered plausible excuses to offer at the ninth green: "My pager has gone off", "I have wrenched my wrist", "I think my appendicitis is acting up", but we couldn't come up with anything that sounded convincing to our own ears.

"Where'd you learn to play golf?" asked J.D., ever the polite conversationalist -- I was trying to give John Henry the silent treatment to see if he could take a hint, but J.D. is just too nice a guy. He hasn't got a slow fuse, he has no fuse at all. I've seen him patiently wear down more than one obnoxious drunk with implacable courtesy and good humor. Never heard him say a bad word about anyone except his ex-wife, and that was more in sorrow than in anger.

"Ft. Worth," said John Henry Firk.

"Is that the Colonial CC?" asks J.D. because he's no angel, but that seems like a harmless joke to me, although it did seem to give John Henry pause.

"Naw, the Haltom City Course," said John Henry, not without pride, "We got a twi-lite league there that plays on Tuesdays. 'Course it's not as nice as this 'un; we play winter rules up there all year long."

At the par three Sixth, John Henry made a shot I only believed pros could make, skipping his ball over the water four times with topspin, onto the green. J.D. had missed right and I, left.

"Haw-haw, Haw-haw. I almost made it!" cried John Henry.

Stress and tension are death to a short game, so it was no wonder we both took sixes, while John Henry, rounding into form, three-putted for a four.

"My honor, I believe," he said as he teed up on Seven. He made a lasso loop with his driver that would have made Gay Brewer wince and for once, instead of a rabbit, hit a line drive, on an oblique to the line drawn by the course designer. But it glanced off one of those huge sycamores that line the fairway and bounced back in the general direction of the hole.

"Haw-haw, Haw-haw. We call that a TCU bounce," said John Henry, "You got to belong to the right church to get that kind of bounce."

Well, J.D. has been down here about 15 years, but he comes from Chicago, and the ways of the Southwest Conference still confuse him sometimes. His sterling character includes a healthy portion of religious tolerance, so he said nothing, but he pull-hooked his drive into the rough, which is a sure sign of sublimated anger in a confirmed slicer.

My own drive was sinfully weak, since I was suffering inner torments myself, and it was a mercy when we were able to hole out with an 8 and a 9, while John Henry circumnavigated the green in a tightening spiral gyre so that he was down in 7.

Throughout the eighth and ninth holes, John Henry regaled us with other insights into the game of golf as offered by the philosophy of our northern neighbors, including the White Rock Roll, the Camp Bowie Bend and the Cherry Street Drop-Off. All of which was quite educational, but it made me all the more surprised when we sped by the clubhouse at the turn to go straight on to 10, with John Henry in hot pursuit.

"We are playing on?" I asked.

"We are playing on and we are going to beat this character," said J.D., "Beat him like a drum."

"Well,then, I've got to go back to the pro shop for another sleeve of balls," I said, "I lost the last of my good balls in the lake there on 9."

"Go on then," said J.D., "and I'll wait here for the Pro from Ft.Worth."

If I had ever had feelings of ill foreboding before, I had them doubly now. I don't think I had ever heard J.D. resort to such black sarcasm before. Preying on my mind also was an uneasy wariness of any unknown golfer from Ft.Worth. I've heard enough from Dan Jenkins and Lee Trevino to know that the place is full of nothing but a bunch of sandbagging sharpshooters just looking for a couple of duffers like me and J.D. to hustle.

By the time I got back to the Tenth tee, J.D. and John Henry were finalizing their financial engagement. J.D. was talking through gritted teeth camouflaged with a fixed grin, and John Henry was talking around bites of a huge chili dog, so I didn't quite catch all the nuances of the bets placed for the last nine holes, but I figured someone would tell me what I owed later, anyway.

I must have still looked confused, cause John Henry said to me, "Look Podner, these is Ft. Worth Rules, they're real simple: this is a skins game with carry-overs, nobody gets any strokes and anyone can press." This of course confirmed my worst fears, that we were sheep to be shorn to this North Texas Sharpy.

So we teed off. John Henry hit a slicing worm-raper down the middle, I hit a waist-high hook down by the lake. That didn't worry me too much, I've been down there before. Ten is a short par-four and if you can just split the sand traps that guard the front of the green, you can roll a three-iron right onto the green from there.

I could see there was trouble for J.D. when he addressed the ball. His jaw was still clenched -- his hole body was clenched. He was no longer playing a social game. He was not playing for money. He was playing to put this misfit back into his place. To send him back where he came from with the knowledge that in Houston, if not in Ft. Worth, we know how to play golf, both with skill and style. Where before he had played with internalized irritation and muted disgust, now he intended to play with righteous wrath, as if Jesus had discovered the Philistines cutting divots on the practice green and was resolved to cast them out.

Or, to put it another way: he topped it. Not with the forceful overspin John Henry had been putting on the ball, rather with the sort of scalping that used to really ruin a ball before surlyn covers came along. The ball barely rolled forward to the next tee box, well behind the red tee markers.

"Hawhaw, Hawhaw." John Henry was amused. "Remember I said this was Ft. Worth Rules! You're gonna have to leave it out on the next tee."

When J.D. flubbed his second shot, I didn't reckon there was any need to wait for the storm to break. I grabbed my putter and three iron and said, "Meet you on the green," and trudged off to my ball. J.D.'s face was black and his knuckles were white were he gripped his club. I figured my only hope was to halve some holes so that the damage to my wallet was minimized. I didn't reckon J.D. was going to be any help. The cryptic caution of John Henry didn't quite register with me then, nor J.D.; we had other things on our minds.

I once read about a tournament that Ben Hogan lost. He was always in trouble because he kept landing in his divots from the day before. Of course, they were in the fairway. But there I was, in the rough by the lake where I had been many times, and by some providential intervention I was able to roll my three-iron shot between the traps onto the green even though I hit it thin.

When I got to the green and looked back at J.D. I was sorry to see that he looked more like a hockey player working the puck than a golfer. He must of been laying about 7 by that time, but no way was he going to pick up. When he got into wedge distance, he finally had some luck though and got under the ball. It was a little short though and buried itself in the right-hand trap.

"Hawhaw, Hawhaw, Hawhaw," laughed John Henry. "Better get that spatula out of your bag; that's the only way your gonna get that fried egg out of there!" The guy just had no idea when to lighten up.

J.D. got out well, all things considering, and I got down in three, to half the hole with John Henry.

Eleven is a long par four running parallel to Ten that I have never reached in two in my life, so I was more or less resigned to losing. But even that despair did not prepare me for the next events. John Henry hit another line drive back onto the Tenth fairway, scattering the foursome behind us, and I hit a kind of weird pull slice down the left hand side, just off in the rough.

J.D. stepped up to the ball with a haste that could have been mistaken for eager confidence, if you hadn't seen him drive on the previous hole, when John Henry spoke, "Hey, Podner, ain't you forgetting something?"

As I keep saying, J.D.'s manners are more or less faultless, so he only had a quizzical look on his face, as if he had forgotten what he was doing in mid-waggle; I am sure that my own reaction was more obvious, even if it was short of fainting dead away. I think it's only slightly less heinous to shout at someone when they step up to the ball than to goose them when putting. To me, there are some things you just don't do.

J.D. only said, "What's that?"

John Henry said, "This is Ft. Worth Rules, you know."

"There must be something about Ft. Worth Rules you forgot to tell us," said J.D. "because I haven't got the foggiest idea what you mean."

"Well," said John Henry with exasperation, "I reckon everybody knows the basics of the game they play."

"You mean golf," said J.D. with exaggerated politeness.

"No, I mean Ft. Worth Rules," said John Henry.

"You're going to have to remind me what all that means," said J.D. as he backed away from the ball and leaned on his club like it was a podium.

"I mean," said John Henry, "when you don't drive past the women's tee on the previous tee, you have to hang it out on the next hole to prove you belong back here with the men."

"Very funny, John Henry, v-e-r-y funny" said J.D. as he picked up his driver again to address the ball.

"I'm not kidding about this. At all." declared John Henry, "I am one hundret percent serious about this."

"Well if you think I am exposing myself on this golf course to satisfy your interpretation of these so-called Ft. Worth Rules, you've got another think coming!" said J.D. with dignity. I have already tried to stress how essentially conservative our outlook on the game of golf is, so the committee must be able to see how distasteful even such a suggestion was to us.

"I don't care what you call it," said John Henry, "but a bet is a bet. What I know is you are going to follow the rules we have agreed on."

"Oh yeah?" asked J.D.

"Yeah." declared John Henry, and with two long steps he was in J.D.'s face ready to change the name of the game to pugilistics.

Now here I might say a word.

The world is changing; we are intelligent men -- and women -- and we see that is changing, we acknowledge it and adapt to it. Whether it means using a graphite shaft instead of a titanium shaft or cavity-back, gooseneck irons instead of forged irons or two-piece balls instead of three-piece balls, we change with the world. In the world outside Golf, we recognize these changes also, that if we cannot make cars anymore, we can at least sell them, and so on. But every change so profound has casualties, and I would like to think that John Henry Firk was one of those victims, a wild animal caught in the merciless onrushing headlights of changing civilization. Some years ago, in Ft. Worth, John Henry would have been comfortably engaged at the stockyards, ropin', brandin' and ridin'. There he would not have seemed so out of place, and if in the middle of some competition such as bronco bustin' or steer wrestlin', he felt like rolling around in the cow-patties with some casual acquaintance, why, no one would raise an eyebrow. Indeed, such an episode is a necessary preamble to a friendship in those quarters.

But here it was out of place. In golf, a sniffle during your opponent's backswing is considered violence.

J.D. considered his options. I could read each of them in his face as he ticked them off. I was thinking, too. Quick action with my driver might have been taken, except that I had seen John Henry take a huge divot out of the hardpan on Four, and somehow, my own stiff-wristed half-slosh seemed inadequate to the purpose.

J.D. finally said, "OK," and once decided upon his course of action, never wavered. There was no furtive rubbernecking. There was no hesitancy or trembling as he bent to his purpose. Instead there was a sort of proud defiance as he unencumbered himself.

About J.D. I could have told you many things: that he is classically good looking, tall, dark and handsome; that he has a real savoir-faire, especially when he smokes; that he has a friendly demeanor, a candid disposition and a ready laugh. So it never surprised me that he had a way with women. What did surprise me is that in addition to these ephemeral qualities, he had been gifted with non-standard equipment by the Pro in the Big Pro Shop in the Sky. In a world of five-irons, he was Jumbo Driver with an extra long shaft. Even John Henry was impressed, but where he had had words to praise J.D.'s best drive, he was now struck dumb. He and I both receded from the tee box. It was all we could do to keep from bowing.

All doubts and confusion had disappeared from J.D.'s mind, his face had the regal complacency of the Dalai Lama as he waggled. He seemed almost offhand as he made his backswing. He was positively serene as he swung effortlessly through the ball. Where before he had rushed and lunged, now he made a faultless turn. The contact of his driver to the ball made no sound above the whoosh of the club. The apogee of the ball was so far down the fairway that it seemed surprising that it landed at all, fully 310 yards, straight as an arrow, with none of the slice J.D. was wont to hit.

I can explain that, too, as J.D. explained it to me later, in the bar. We have all seen various devices for improving the golf swing: there are the coat-hanger, the hula-hoop, the noodle and a hundred other gimmicks which are palmed off on duffers desperate to break 100. I remember my dad talking excitedly about one to keep your head down during the swing by attaching a fishhook to a headband. Possibly the only one of these that is worth the $39.95 you pay for it is the Tassel. I am sure you have seen it advertised on cable TV late at night, during which some hopeless celebrity slicer is cured by some non-touring pro using the Tassel to teach him to get over the top of the ball. Sort of like a sash with a weight attached to it; supposed to help you time the pace of your swing, or something.

Well, J.D. had his own Tassel. From the first backswing, he told me, it was clear he was onto the real McCoy. J.D. had always made the correct hip-turn, but the pace had been wrong. Now with his own metronome to keep time, arms, legs and body were all perfectly in synch.

J.D. waited not for our accolades, but merely replaced his driver, took his seven iron and strode off down the fairway. He walked alone, with a graceful gait that covered the yards quickly. John Henry was moved to action only when the awesome presence had receded sufficiently.

"Haw," he croaked weakly, "Goddang. Did you see that?" he muttered as he wandered off to his second shot.

I was no less amazed or affected, but I felt the jury was still out. We have all had simple cures for the complex problems Golf presents to us, which have not proved out over the long haul. I don't know how many times I have thought "Ah! This is the final great secret to golf." and done well over a few holes, only to plummet back to reality like Icarus under the heat of competition.

I nudged my ball on towards the hole with a skimming three iron, while John Henry flailed away on the right. It was not possible for his game to get worse, no matter what the trauma, but he seemed sort of dazed. So it was necessary for us both to take third shots before J.D. had his second. He waited in the fairway ahead of us, like the Colossus of Rhodes facing the green, indifferent to our puny struggles.

When it was his turn, I was struck again by the placidity of his stroke and the its power. As if he had been tutored for years by Zen masters on the means to release his inner strength. The ball flew straight again, in an impossibly high parabola. It's hard to tell sometimes from 160 yards away, but the ball appeared to hit the flag stick on the first bounce and drop dead.

Once again he strode off down the fairway, leaving us to our own devices. We crept up to the green like supplicants as he studied his putt. He waited patiently while we fumbled around and then tapped in his six-footer with nonchalance.

He had not spoken since the Tenth tee, and he did not speak now; he merely gestured, "Follow me."

On the par three Twelfth, John Henry attempted to re-assert control. "You can put that club back in the bag, now," he said, "I reckon you have shown you can hit from the men's tee."

J.D. looked down his nose at John Henry like he was someone giggling while Arnold Palmer was putting, "I'll be pressing that bet, now." With a glacial backswing he hit another 160 yard seven iron that backed up all the way from the rear of the green past the hole. That was good for another tap-in birdie. J.D. raised an eyebrow and pointed a shoulder at the next tee, then left.

No matter how well one plays on a public course, ordinarily, a crowd will not develop. In this case, however, the Thirteenth fairway and tee abut the road to the western entrance to the club, and there were cars coming and going. Now, as the committee has already recognized, it was not J.D.'s superior play that caused the first car to stop, but rather the way that he stood on the tee like Cortez squinting into the vista before him -- a wide-open expanse of fairway that had always allowed J.D. to give free reign to his slice. I am sure that this time, though, that J.D. was looking for the optimal patch of grass to land on. While I offered him his driver, which he took absent-mindedly, I noticed that now there were three cars parked off the road, near the tee.

"I presume you'll be pressing, now," said J.D.

"No, I am not," rejoined John Henry.

"Well, then, I will. How else are you going to get your money back?"

"But, but, that's, let's see, 4 -- 8 -- 16 -- THIRTY-TWO DOLLARS!" cried John Henry. He turned a conspicuous shade of green, and a certain barnyard redolence heretofore unnoticeable about his person became more obvious.

"Yes, very good, John Henry," said J.D. mildly and once again he waggled and whooshed, as if he had grabbed the club in a mid-circle that had always existed and will always exist. This ball had a much lower trajectory, say 75 feet in the air or so, with a compensating roll. The scorecard says 350 yards to the green on that hole, and all I can tell you is that J.D.'s second shot was with a putter.

Generally, we speak of the yips only in a putting context, but something similar afflicted John Henry at this point. He took his stance, but could not swing at the ball; he just stood there with spittle on the corner of his mouth. Eventually, he made a palsied attempt that rolled about 150 yards down the fairway. J.D. took off down the fairway, followed by his gallery of 18 people or so, from the six cars now parked on the road.

The last I saw of John Henry Firk, he was slinking down the West Road back towards the parking lot. "Does this mean you concede?" I hollered, but he did not acknowledge me at all.

Now I presume that what the committee's actual objection, aside from the fact that J.D. was partially disrobed, relates to the damage done to the course by the gallery at this unscheduled exhibition. That's fair enough, but you cannot deny that his golf was of the highest caliber. Anytime anyone sees a crowd wandering around a golf course, or hears their audible appreciation of the spectacle, that person will be attracted to join the crowd. That is simple psychology. There were 30 members of the entourage by the time we reached the green. When J.D.'s Texas Wedge failed to drop, the mass disappointment was keen enough to be heard back at the club house, which drew more interested parties. The crowd's gratification at his third tap-in birdie in a row emptied the bar.

I had driven on Thirteen, but I never took my second shot. I was reduced to the role of the caddy. I could never have played so publicly, but J.D. was oblivious. Walking to the Fourteenth tee, he signed several autographs.

Only I was privy to his inner most emotions; only I had seen how many times on Fourteen J.D. had sliced out onto Highway 6. Those were massive drives themselves, though misguided. Today, however, he heeded neither the water on the left nor the fairway bunkers on the right. I feared that he had actually driven the lake on the right, normally not in play, but he had drawn this ball away from the water. What was amazing to me was not the 300 yard drives, but the control J.D. exhibited, especially on his approaches. It was impossible for him to have more confidence now than he had had with the first stroke, but I could see the satisfaction in his eyes growing with every shot.

The wild appreciation of his fourth tap-in birdie was mere prelude to the orgy of celebration at the Fifteenth, where he eagled the long par five.

The par four Sixteenth challenged J.D. only by its short length with the water guarding the green coming into play. J.D. cunningly laid up with a 220 yard 5-iron, then hit a 115 yard half-wedge dead to the pin.

Since the consensus of the crowd now numbering over 200 was that another tap-in birdie was a foregone conclusion, many stampeded over to get ring-side positions at the green at the par three Seventeenth. They sensed that something historical was in the offing.

Nor were they disappointed. Two hundred collective breaths were held as J.D. began his backswing. Two hundred pairs of eyes noted the serendipity which was joined that moment between form and opportunity as the ball flew in the air with the inexorable, awesome inevitability of an eclipse. Two hundred throats gave voice to their wonder as the ball landed, checked, released and trickled into the cup.

The bedlam surrounding the green prevented us from retrieving his ball, so we left it and proceeded directly to Eighteen. Short of the tee, there stood an officious little man with such a puckered, pained expression one might think his lemonade wasn't keeping him regular.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"Just playing a little golf, Marshal," I explained, "We have been going a little slow because of the crowd and all, but we'll pick it up."

"Look at the mess they're making: the flags from the back nine are all missing and some of them are cutting pieces of turf out of Seventeen! You're going to have to discontinue your round and leave the course," he said, "And you," pointing to J.D., "had better close your barn door!"

J.D. remained regally aloof, oblivious to these imprecations. Meanwhile, the crowd became aware of the Marshal's intent.

"Let him play," cried out one voice. "Go away. Let him play" responded a chorus, which was picked up as an anthem by the throng: "Go away. Let him play. Go away. Let him play. Go away. Let him play." while the press of humanity separated us from the Marshal and carried us to the tee, where they made an artificial amphitheatre for J.D. to drive. I could see the Marshal fighting to get through, without any luck.

Eighteen is a long par four dogleg with a large lake guarding the green. J.D. pulled his 3-iron, waggled like the Pontiff dispensing benedictions and scorched a bullet about 240 yards, just short of the water. We all proceeded down the fairway, J.D. accepting the adulation of the crowd like the Messiah on Palm Sunday.

When J.D. reached his ball, I handed him his 9-iron. The crowd fell silent when he addressed his ball. As he made his backswing, a hand reached into his inviolate space and grabbed the club.

"I told you to leave the course, you filthy exhibitionist! Now zip up your pants and w-a-a-a-u-g-h. . . . ." the Marshal screamed as the crowd swallowed him back up. J.D.'s club spat back out as if an indigestible. I could see only a terrible roiling and convulsing amongst the members of the gallery. A seething clot migrated over to the edge of the lake and the Marshal was disgorged with a very satisfying splash. Hoots of derision and catcalls followed the Marshal as he swam towards the clubhouse, away from the crowd, waded ashore and hastily disappeared.

J.D. watched all this with dispassion. When the spectacle ended, he turned to the ball and calmly laid the ball dead to the pin. With the crowd still cavorting all around the green, he tapped the ball in.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, it would be extremely unfair to hold J.D. and myself responsible for souveniring which took place. As for the damage done to the course by the crowd trampling the fairway, we must also be held blameless. And as far as the injuries to the course Marshal, both J.D. and I express sympathy but accept no responsibility.

As to the charges of public nudity, if that's what you are calling it, I ask for each of you men to consider whether you would have done any different. J.D. says for himself, he will play no longer "en deshabille", since the physical consequences are too severe: the sunburn he got that day has proved inconvenient to the point of interfering with his social life and his other obligations, such as this conference. But I happen to know he has installed a net in his living room, so that he can practice in the privacy of his own home.

Prazsky Pohar Chodu Prvni

2011-07-16T16:58:00.004+02:00

Prague Cup Round 1

Round 1 at Golf Club Praha,

Round 2 at Hodkovicke

Round 3 at Hostivar

Have to play all three rounds, I’m not sure about the scoring . . .

At GCP, they demoted me to B-Flight, my handicap has soared to 18.1, so natcherly, after a 3 week layoff, I play my best golf in 2 years . . . 9 pars, 7 bogeys, 2 double bogeys . . . no birdies or blow up holes, 42-39=81, 46 stableford points, so I win the B-flight, easily, and they lower my handicap to 15.1, which ought to put me out of my misery for awhile. . . 8^D . . . (in the A-flight) . . .

I’m just not sure how we’re competing in these three tournaments, in flights, or all-in-one, or what? That is, if I’m in the B-flight with the 15 handicap? Or I’m in two different flights for the Prazky Pohar? Can’t wait to see what happens . . . no way will I play so well again this year . . . 8^D . . . played the par 5s +1, the par 4s +7, and the par 3s +3 . . . had 3 3putts and just a bunch of 1putts, can’t count ‘em all . . .2 sandy pars . . . used the same ball all day, never hit a provisional . . . foozled one 3wood tee shot on #7 . . . the greens were running +2 for the normal stimpmeter, I assess, which is all to the good for me . . . I can get my putts on line, but I have to hit ‘em so hard most of the time to get ‘em to the hole I pull & push a lot when I start pressing . . .

My prize was amazing . . . a cigar cozy, with two pipes in it, one for a cigar and the other for my Armagnac . . . I mean, it made me tear up it was such a good prize . . .

So I will play my ass off in the next two tournaments, but I really think I have no chance to win now . . . I won’t play this well again this year, is my experience, to have all my game components working at the same time . . . 8^D . . .but it’ll be fun to be among the leaders going into the next round . . . 8^D . . .

R&A drops

2011-07-16T06:34:00.001+02:00

Mr Science expounds from our shared Calvinistic POV:

Did you see the Open Championship? On 18 today, Rickie Fowler hit it into the tent to the right of the fairway. Between the tent and the ropes is an area where the fans can stand, and two fences. The tent, of course (officially a "grandstand"), is an obstruction, but so is everything on the outside of the inner fence. So he got a free drop.

They had marked off 11 drop zones along the front of the grandstand, with a blue pole halfway between each pair of adjacent drop zones. The drop zones are mandatory, and you must drop in the closest one. Period. They forgot the usual "no nearer the hole". So Rickie advanced the ball about 20 more yards and took his free drop. The ball rolled even closer to the hole, and that was OK, too. (Azinger wanted to know if the extra 20 yards would count in his driving distance stats.)

He hit it to the left of the green, in a closely mown area. It's the British Open, so anyone within 60 yards of the hole and not in tall grass or a bunker uses his putter. Rickie had a sprinkler head in the way. Since the sprinkler was within two club lengths of the green, and his ball was within two club lengths of the sprinkler, he got a free drop. At the nearest point of relief. Not within a club length, just drop at the nearest point. He was ready to drop on the left side of the sprinkler, when he noticed that the cut of the rough was such that he would have less long grass to putt through, and more short grass to the right. He looked at the official, and pointed to the right side of the sprinkler, and that's where he ended up dropping. His putt missed the sprinkler by at least a foot, so I guess the nearest "point" is a pretty big thing, besides being of indeterminate location. The head rules official was in the announce booth throughout this, explaining it all, and showed no signs of embarrassment.

I suppose this is the difference between British and Scottish.

Golf Gate

2011-06-19T17:22:00.000+02:00

I had formed the opinion many years ago that the problem with U.S. presidents in the Modern Era was that they were all dog lovers rather than cat fanciers; the deep-seated psychological need for the slathering loyalty of their aides, typical of dogs, rather than for the independence typical of cats, led, I felt, to an unhealthy state of mind in which these presidents believed the nonsense urged upon them by their sycophantic acolytes and treated any dissent as treason.

Now I have a different idea, more fitting in its metaphorical allusions and more accurate in its telling nuances: the nadirs of American political life have coincided with the incumbency of golf-less presidents.

Eisenhower, of course, of golf course, was mad for the game. Undoubtedly, that is why the 50s are known as the Good Old Days.

Kennedy complained bitterly, and unreasonably, I think, about the spike marks Ike left in the teak-wood flooring in the White House. Athletic as he was, I am sure JFK usually begged off of any invitations with some lame excuse about his bad back; that is, he gave the appearance of a golf-playing president, but in actuality, he was not, being more pre-occupied by other indoor diversions. I am just as sure that the recent detrimental revisions of the image of the Camelot presidency reflect this duplicity.

Neither Johnson nor Nixon golfed, really, the idea is ludicrous. These alone are enough to establish the prima facie case to anyone but the most biased observer. Johnson loved only politics and Nixon loved that most execrable of all sports, pro football. Both of these men would have improved their characters by acquainting themselves with the self-regulating nature of golf. It can hardly be denied that the course of history would be different if either of these men had had an ounce of restraint, or humility . . .

Ford played golf. One has to contemplate the agency of Richard Nixon which has been indirectly responsible for imposing the two worst golfers in political history, Ford and Spiro Agnew, upon the American Public. Still, Ford rendered an Everyman quality to every Presidential Round that had a certain healing effect on the country that was very necessary at the time.

Carter did not play, and there is ample evidence his character would have benefited from the experience, but of course, that is true of all powerful men, and especially, dog lovers. The leavening of the soul with humility imposed on the golfer would have improved all of these presidents, introducing to each of their consciousnesses the concept that they might fail through the intervention of no one else, mortal or divine, but only through their own frailty. But of course, Carter, more than any of the others, needed to experience the sheer diversion of golf, which can render all else unimportant.

Reagan did not play, and anyone who has seen him chop wood would know why: his stroke is entirely inappropriate to the game. Aside from the fresh-air exercise which the Gipper would certainly have enjoyed, the mental exercise in remembering his correct score would have pleased the whole country.

Bush and Clinton both play golf, true enough, so it is important to draw the correct conclusion from the evidence: how the the presidential golfer scores is not as important as how he plays. While we would like to see a slow backswing and a balanced, full follow-through rather than a tense, quick half-swing, what is most important is what kind of playing partner does he make. Can he be trusted in the deep rough, or will he resort to Nixonian footwedges? Is his score honest, or is it the result of Reaganesque absentmindedness and disarming sandbaggery? Is he a good fellow, or is he prone to Carter-like enforcement of obscure rules that will cost strokes?

One of the enduring images of the War to Restore Kuwaitian Sovereignty remains that of Bush playing golf during the early days of the crisis, rather than "being a captive of the Oval Office". Although this caused a great deal of negative commentary at the time, to be true to my newly formed political theory, I must come down on the positive side. To a certain degree these apocalyptic events are inevitable, anyway, and sometimes, there only just so much the Leader of the Free World can do.

This calls to mind a conversation from the golf stories of P.G. Wodehouse in which The Oldest Member of the Club instructs a wayward youth who has fallen from the wholesome companionship of golfers into the bad company of lawn bowlers. Defending himself, the youth points out that Sir Walter Raleigh delayed his defense against the attack of the Spanish Armada long enough to finish a game of lawn bowling. To which the Oldest Member replies, "If he had golfed instead, he never would have launched the defense at all."

At this point in history, it is fruitless to conjecture as to the value of the War, but it might be worthwhile speculating on what unknown disasters were averted by the happenstance of Bush being on vacation at the time. Who knows what rash actions were averted, possibly a premature attempt at a land war.

What triggers these ruminations is the speculation in the press concerning the reunion of Bush and Quayle at the Doug Sanders Seniors Classic at Kingwood lately. {circa 1993 if my memory serves me well, which is more-and-more unlikely I have come to find - author} There is a widely held misconception that this is a first.

Not many people were aware of the round Bush and Quayle played with Clinton and Gore at the Burning Bush Country Club prior to the election, in an attempt to elevate the election partisanship from a full-contact sport. Unfortunately, it had the exact opposite effect; in fact, the most vitriolic repartee in the closing days of the campaign can be directly traced to that match.

We know about this match, which was played on one of the most exclusive private clubs in the Washington area, only due to the fact that in addition to the secret service agents, Ross Perot supporters had infiltrated the caddy ranks.

From the first tee, it was clear that as a social, rapport-building event the match was a failure. Bush and Qualye sliced into the right rough; Clinton and Gore hooked into the left rough. They would play that way most of the day, meeting only on greens and tees.

This was a two-man scramble, match-play, for leadership of the only true superpower left in the world. Needless to say, it got uglier and uglier.

On the second hole, Clinton was overheard complaining about slow play in a pointed manner.

At the third green Quayle felt called upon to wonder to himself out loud why some people were so busy fixing invisible ball marks while he was trying to putt.

On the fourth tee, Gore compared Bush's swing to the way his Grandma flipped hotcakes.

On the fifth fairway, Bush commented in a very sarcastic manner about the miraculous nature of a Clinton recovery shot, from behind a tree in deep rough.

On the sixth green, Clinton questioned Quayle's shot count.

On the seventh fairway, Quayle asked Gore if it was really necessary to repair every divot he came across. Gore told Quayle to widen his stance a little bit so that maybe he would not take so much turf with every swing. Quayle told Gore then that maybe he should carry Quayle's clubs, so that it would be legal when he gave advice. Gore pointed out that the caddy might manage the weight of Quayle's bag better if there were only 14 clubs.

So tensions were flaring a bit at that point in time, possibly because in addition to the natural antipathy felt by the teams, the Democrats were leading 3 holes to 1, giving rise to just the smallest bit of smug condescension to color their demeanor, while the Republicans were seething in discontent.

You may well wonder how the Dems could lead the Reps, when Quayle is widely acknowledged as the best striker in Washington. Unfortunately, Bush insisted on playing his drives, even when they were 50 yards shorter than Quayle's. This would have been bad enough were they winning, but they were losing and Quayle bridled at this faulty strategy. Bush also insisted his drives were in the middle or on the right, even when he had hooked it to the left, which only increased Quayle's aggravation.

Of course, the players expected a certain amount of partisanship, which up to a point, gratifies the competitive spirit in a gentlemanly way. But no one anticipated that the simmering ambitions of the Vice-Presidential nominees would surface in open conflict with the bottled-up insecurities of the Presidential candidates.

So it was a surprise when Gore chose the Eighth Tee as the place to suggest a more upright stance and a fuller follow-through to Clinton. Nobody takes golf advice well, although a duffer will suffer in silence the critique of his club pro; but nobody wants to hear swing corrections in the middle of round. Clinton's silent reproof as he surveyed his foozle short of the women's tee apparently caused Gore to top his own ball, several times.

So they both looked as if they were practicing for the Easter Egg Roll on the White House Lawn.

Perhaps it was less of a shock that Quayle finally exploded on the Ninth Green, when Bush not only missed a birdie putt to win the hole, but knocked it 15 feet passed the hole. As the old scottish pro said to explain his own oaths, the provocation was great; still, the relative informality of the golf course does not give one leave to refer to the First Golfer as a "wrong handed, long-handled yippie", a term which seemed to have political connotations to Bush.

Presidential recriminations never reflect well on either party, as when a snarling Nixon shoved a snivelling Zieglar, or when an imperial Kennedy snubbed an ingratiating Johnson, but neither of those public slights could match the vicious malice of Bush handing Quayle his putter with a newly hinged faux-Medicus shaft.

It was a surly lot that trudged up to the halfway house. In a tragic attempt to knit up the ravelled ends of the game, Gore made an offer to buy the drinks. Quayle ventured that he would have an Old Granddad on the rocks and pointedly ignoring the glare from Bush, said "Make it a Double". Clinton opted for a Strip-and-Go-Naked, of course, Bush ordered a neat single-malt and Gore got a fizzy mineral water for himself.

The trouble started up anew when Gore tried to sign for the drinks. This somehow offended the republican pay-as-you-go sensibilities. Both Quayle and Bush reached for their wallets. While Gore protested, Clinton ordered another drink and told the bartender to add it to the tab. When Bush made an unguarded aside about "Drink and Spend Democrats", Clinton responded with an unchecked flurry of imputations of Republican deficit accounting on the golf course. Only the solid intervention of the club secretary at that crucial minute prevented a real donnybrook. At his direction, after consulation with the head pro, both parties were excused from the course.

In the lesser sports, there is no stigma to being asked to leave the field: in hockey, such an invitation is an extremely transient inconvenience; in basketball, it is often the badge of complete effort or total desire; in baseball, it is often seen as a necessary and desirable response to the inadequacies of the umpiring staff; in football, disqualification simply does not occur. In auto-racing, being waved off the track is more likely due to equipment failure than as discipline for unsportsmanlike driving.

But even these men, hardened by years in politics against any form of sensitivity, recognized the shame of their eviction. Which is why till now the bi-partisan cover-up of "Golf-Gate" has been so complete and successful.

Golfing With US Presidents Article in Town&Country Magazine

2011-06-19T15:47:00.000+02:00

Golf is the unofficial game of the American presidency. In the century

since William Howard Taft became the first golf aficionado

to live in the White House, only three of 18 presidents—Hoover,

Truman, and Carter—have chosen not to play the gilded game. And when

Congressional Country Club, in Bethesda, Maryland, hosts the U.S. Open

golf championship this month for the third time (it was there in 1964

and 1997), the event will serve as a reminder that golf remains one of the

capital’s favorite pastimes for flesh-pressing.

Golf fans will likely presume that Congressional

is suspending for a single week the usual dealbrokering

by politicos. But in fact the capital’s

power games are played at a number of marquee

area courses: the East Potomac Golf Course in

DC, where Joe Biden enjoys teeing off; the secretive

TPC Potomac at Avenel Farm, in Maryland, a

tough track that’s the choice of so many legislator-golfers that a 2004 Senate

vote had to be delayed until GOP senators finished a round; and Burning

Tree, the country club of the capital old guard, which counts House

Speaker John Boehner as a member . . . .

you’ll have to buy the magazine to see the whole article . . . but BTW, that reminds me of a story . . .

Moving the tee back at Motol

2011-06-19T15:09:00.002+02:00

While the regular men's tee was under repair, they moved the 1st tee at GCP back to a championship tee that I had never seen used before . . . all day long the golfers were freaking out, and driving balls into the new netting there on the right, hitting the trees, and popping them up off the toe onto the 2nd fairway & green . . . 8^D . . . who'm I to laugh . . . the second time around I clipped the tree on the left, just leaves, but I couldn't find my ball . . . took an x onthe hole, then found my ball on the 2nd hole 20 minutes later . . . 8^D , , ,

Nove Amerika - Maple Hills

2011-06-17T17:29:00.040+02:00

Maple Hills is distinguished from the other two 9s by water, I was told. It's the shortest 9, but arguably, the hardest . . . If the whole 9 was like this first hole tee shot, it would be awesome, like my old home course Walden on Lake Conroe . . . didn't bother me, I just hit a baby hook up just short of the trap on the left.

it was so wide open in the fairway, that I freaked out and pull-hooked my fairway wood into the next fairway . . . then I tried to baby my wedge into the downhill, slopes-the-wrong-way green and came up short, just barely not in the bigbunker that lines the fairway , , , so natcherly, my chip ran over the green, from where I did NOT get up and down, tho'it oughtta been simple. ... double bogey.

#2 is a short par 4, I don't remember much about. If I didn't have this picture I wouldn't remember my missed birdie.

Oh, water, Oh yeah . . . pretty intimidating looking par 3 #3. I had a problem lately with a flying elbow that makes me hook the holy foecal matter out of my shot -- certainly not performance anxiety! -- right over the trees on the left. . . chopped the ball out of the tall rough to makeable distance, but missed . . . I'd hit a second ball, careful with my elbow, from the tee, and wound up slicing to the far right side of the green . . . I 3putted from there, so 4 is my score on this hole, no matter what.

The architect does his tees the way I've done my tees in my JN6 golf game . . . I was pleased to see how nice they look in real life.

#4 is another short par 4 . . . I placed my drive perfectly down the middle, between the traps, and I tho't I might drive the green, but I wound up 50m short.

but, I babied the half-wedge too much and came up short (these greens were very fast, but soft enough to receive a shot well, but if you land short, the fairway is hard, and you can get a BIG bounce . . . then I bladed a chip 12 ft past the hole and two-putted -- I count that as a 3 putt bogey.

The par 3 #5 seemed much more uphill than it looks here, and surrounded by a sea of sand, by the time I did the math, I was hitting a full 7wood, in which I have great confidence, but I got the flying elbow and hit a high hook that came down in the trees just left of the green, pin high.

my ball was in a leaf pile in a shallow gulley between the green and the cart path, so I hadda chunk a couple of chips to get to the green, and a rare 2putt for a 5
. . . 8^/ . . .

the par 5 #6 is the #1 handicap hole, 566m long . . . the bugger for this 9 . . . It was all dense woods down the left side, so I aimed right and sub-consciously compensated with a hook just past the woods into a cut-out gap of high rough . . . I hit another ball here in exasperation and it went into the woods, 10 yds shorter. . . so I chopped my first ball out with a 5iron onto the short grass, then flaired a 7iron 50 ft from the pin, 3putt bogey . . . wisht I could re-play that hole.

#7 is another par 5, all uphill . . . conscious of my flying elbow, I took care to slice it into the tall rough on the right, behind another set of trees that forced me just to take a safety back into the fairway...
hooked another fairway wood back into the tall rough, so that it took two more wedges and a chip to reach the green, followed by a standard 3putt for a snowman.

#8 is a short downhill par 4, bordered on the left, not by the trees, but a beautiful field of yellow flowers, that look like some commercial crop, but I can't say what. I brought out the flying elbow again and could see my ball bouncing along the edge of the flowers . . . I tho't it might be OB so I hit another that took one big bounce into the flowers... another demonstration that wherever I'm gonna hit it, I'm gonna hit it, no matter how many shots I hit . . . so I trudged down there to look for my balls . . . I didn't walk in the flowers, just back and forth in front of ém . . . I found my first ball, in bounds, past the big trap . . . 8^) . . . so I lobbed a half wedge short of the green and let it release to the pin . . . and I tho't this would be a birdie for sure, no matter how bad I putt . . . but it wasn't . . . these were fast bent grass greens, but they didn't roll true, seemed awfully grainy. . . either I sliced the holy bejezus out of that flat little 4footer, or the grain made it take an unbelievable turn, it didn't even hit the hole . . . tap-in par.

#9 is a mid-length par 3, kind of odd-design, layout wise. . . .sort of downhill, so that the green is invisible against the trees up there, but it definitely looks like trouble, similar to several greens on the Woodland 9, so I tried a 6 iron that would (I hoped) bounce on and stay . . . right theory, poor execution . . . I wound up in a bunker left of the green . . . splashing out, I still didn't allow enough room for the roll-out since the green is so steep going away from the tee (again) that the ball rolled off the green into the fringe . . . standard 3putt from there . . . shudder ...

Nove Amerika - Woodland

2011-06-17T17:23:00.001+02:00

The Woodlands Course 3367m, Par 36, by Stephan Freidrich (I think . . . I asked and was told, but I didn't write it down . . .I tho't it was Freidrich something-else, based on the fact that 3/4 of the trophies in the dining room had his name on them . . . but Stephan Freidrich is the President of the Club now, so, maybe).

#1 is an amazing view from the tee, pretty intimidating, and, as is my ultimate measure, reminiscint of Walden on Lake Conroe . . .
I hit a line drive . . . just keeping it straight, that I tho't might fly that tree in the left fairway . . . but I just rolled up to the base of the hill at the end of the fairway, and that tree is halfway up. I was worried about being obstructed, but the bigger problem was that the hill was so big that I had to walk up there to see where the green was, and that the green was so big, to see where the pin was . . .

so, I was a little blocked and had to take the right side of the green. . . I dug it out of the long rough and up the hill pretty good. . . had 33 ft for a birdie. . . 3putt bogey, natch... that's a severely elevated green that slopes away from the tee, with a giant deep bunker all along the back of the green. @#$@ what a hard hole!

#2 is a par 4 like #7 at GCP Motol, except it just keeps going uphill, and is surrounded by trees . . .
I hit my tee shot with a tiny draw instead of a fade, and it just leapt down the hill going left . . . I still only had 9iron to the green, but out of deep rough . . . what a tough tee shot . . . even harder to keep in the fairway than GCP #7, and even more penal on the rightside . . . .deep dense dark woods . . . it was kinda creepy there on the tee, too, sort of a hansel & gretel kinda feeling . . . 8^D

The par 3 #3 presents an opportunity for some higher math . . . lotta calculations for altitude changes, brisk wind up on top of the hill, meters-to-yards, clubbage . . . I picked the right club, 4iron, but the wind just blew it pin high behind that bush on the left in the picture, so that I was on the steep slope backing up the green area, short-sided. . . well, these days I am flat-out just with flat chips, never mind trick shots like that . . . double bogey.

So I had a little west-texas red-ass on the next tee shot, dead into the wind, low hook, left side of the fairway at the top of the hill . . . I don't think it could be better placement. . . might've been closer . . .but I don't see how.

but that look at the green was terribly intimidating to me . . . don't want to be long, that's obviously dead. to get at the green and keep it on, you've got to fly the trap with a high shot (I had a 7wood in my hands), or hook it in . . . I'm not sure what I finally decided, so I foozled it, then, still shy, I hit a wedge on the front of the green and 3putted. That's a very large green.

I cudda sworn #5 was a short par 5, 422m . . . I hooked my drive into the middle of the fairway, blocked my 3wood right of the green, lobbed on 18ft away . . .

then 3putted, per norm for a 6.

Oh, back-to-back par 5s I tho't . . . well, sweet! You obviously want to stay left here, but I had a double-cross that left me short of that bunker down in the valley. Chopped a 5 iron up the hill onto the left side. Satisfied.

another huge green, surrounded by steep declines and huge dense trees, so I played short, misjudging, wound up 70 ft away. 3putt 6.

#7, the bugger hole, is 638m long . . . now a lot of it's downhill, but d-a-a-a-a-a-a-n-g . . . 8^0 . . .

I tried to hook a shot to ride the wind and the slope (shudda known after the last hole I cain't hook on demand) and got a double cross up into the tall grass. took a long time to find the ball.

dug it out with a 5 iron, and tho't it was safe along the right side of the fairway, but it musta taken a bad bounce back into the hay, had another extended easter egg hunt, then chopped it out nearly to the bottom of the hill . . . that is my shot was only partially obstructed by the woods guarding the green around that 90degree dogleg.

this is the largest green I've ever seen. The pin was tucked behind the trees from where I stood back in the fairway for my 4th shot . . . dangit, this hole is unfair . . . there's just no way anyone would confidently go over those trees, they're so tall . . . I was 50 ft away. Need I say 3putt doublebogey?

Even #11 at Walden on Lake Conroe held out the hope that 3 perfect shots would give you a chance for a birdie, but here that dogleg is so sharp, and the hole is so long, that even three exceptionally long straight shots might not get you into position. . . it'd take some reps to judge that green proper distance wise, too.

#8 is just fouled up . . . I mean, a good hole, but how about a breather after #7?
I hit a low line drive leftish . . . out under the trees that looked like trouble to me, as it turned out, short, but playable. I hit a 7iron off the hardpan, got another low line drive, that I thot might roll up onto the elevated green, but it hit something, a sprinkler socket or something that took all the steam out of it.

I indifferently lobbed up 12 ft past the hole and 3putted, again.

@ #9 is a long par 3 . . . I tho't it was a par 4, and played safely away from the bunkers on the left, which meant I drove thru the mini-dogleg left thru some young trees on the right, in the deep rough ... pin-high ... oh!. . . I tried to flop over the trees, but just cut under the ball to get half way . . . bladed the pitch from there over the green, took 3more to get down.