I have to confess that the real purpose of this post is for me to hear from you, so feel free to skip all my jabbering and leave a comment if you like.  A comment on a recent post got me thinking back fondly to how I took up the game of golf many years ago.  There’s a lot behind the development of my appreciation for the game.  I’m going to share that, but I really want to hear how you got started with golf.  Share your story in the comments and take up as little or as much space as you need.

Now on to the beginning…

I had gone to driving ranges here and there while growing up.  I always used the house drivers that they loan out to people who don’t own clubs, but I never had any concept of the game.  All I knew was whacking balls as far as I could and laughing at people who whiffed (I wasn’t really laughing the time I slipped and threw the borrowed driver 100 yards down range though).  I didn’t know anything about The Masters, Arnold Palmer, the difference between a hook and a slice, or what a Nassau is.  Nor did I know that there were dress codes and etiquette.

Etiquette might have been nice to know because my first attempt at real golf wasn’t pretty.

I was maybe 17 years old and grew up in a fairly rural area in New Jersey (no, really), but there happened to be a golf course a few miles from home.  It had never occurred to me to play until a friend of mine convinced me that it would be fun because he had played with his father a couple of times.

I saved up a little money and went and bought an old beat-up set of clubs. They came with a bag and everything.  This was probably 1992 or 1993, a little before metal woods were fully ingrained in the game, so I got my start with persimmon.

I was happy as a pig in – well, let’s just say I was happy.  My friend and I decided to play.  He would borrow his dad’s clubs, and I’d bring mine – I was in the big time now.  A golfer!  We decided that real golfers played in a foursome, so we invited two other friends.

This is where the etiquette part would have come in handy.  We made a tee time and showed up at the course.  Four people, two sets of clubs.  What’s wrong with sharing, right?  Yeah.  Embarrassing is a good word to describe the fact that they weren’t going to let four of us play with two sets of clubs and that we had totally tipped our hand, demonstrating that we were utterly clueless about the game of golf.

We were given a choice by the salty old pro giving us the evil eye: we had to either all pack up our remaining dignity and get out of there or send our two clubless friends over the hill.  Needless to say, two of us we were preparing to tee off within a few minutes.  Humorously, one of the guys that got the boot  that day might even read this.  Sorry, dude.

I don’t remember much from that round other than the fact that golf was harder than I thought and that we were totally clueless about the whole affair.  We had no idea where we were allowed to drive the carts.  We didn’t know about fixing ball marks.  We didn’t know when it was safe to tee off.  Perhaps most embarrassing – or funny, depending on your point of view – was that we played approach shots to a directional flag on the long, dogleg-right par-five first hole.

A maintenance guy on a rough mower was shouting at us that the green was still 300 yards away, but we couldn’t hear him over the sound of the machine. We just nodded, smiled, and waved and looked at each other with dumbfounded “what is he yelling about” expressions.  He was kind enough to eventually ride over and convey the message in a way that was clear enough for us to understand, so, thanks Buzzy for that compassionate understanding all those years ago.

Those were the most notable moments.  I have no idea what my score was and I don’t recall any individual shots, good or bad.  I went home and didn’t touch my clubs for a while, except maybe to go to the driving range for fun once in a while.

Honestly, my golfing life was almost over before it started.  I didn’t try to play again.  Until…

Tune in tomorrow for Part II of this riveting cliff-hanger.  OK, riveting is not the right word and maybe cliff-hanger is a bit strong, but I really do want to hear the stories about how you came to appreciate/love/be addicted to golf.  Leave a comment and stop back tomorrow for the rest of the story, as Paul Harvey used to say.

A little while back, I was contacted by Bob Cayne, author of the book, …Nothing Major.  He asked if I’d like to review the book and since I have a soft spot for books on golf humor, I gladly accepted.

According to his biography, Bob Cayne has been playing golf for six decades, and has done a variety of things in the golf world, including organizing large tournaments and consulting.  Perhaps the biggest influence for this book (the basis really), was the weekly radio show he did with co-host George Sweda, Talking Golf.

Throughout its run, Talking Golf was a fertile ground for the cultivation of funny golf anecdotes, jokes, and more. Cayne channeled that material and plenty more from his other experiences and …Nothing Major was the result.

The story behind the title gives a little indication of what’s in store.

In the days of Talking Golf, a number of people prominent in the golf world recorded teasers for the show and these teasers were typically in the form of jabs at the show.  Jack Nicklaus’ blurb was the following: “This is Jack Nicklaus. I’ve won my share of majors and I have to tell you, Talking Golf with George Sweda and Bob Cayne is nothing major.”

Priceless.  Some of the others are even bigger pokes at the show, but I’ll leave those for you to discover, should you choose to pick up the book.

Sixty years playing golf has to change a man.  Bob Cayne, on the back cover of the book, touts “…the ability to laugh at myself.”  He has it in spades.  In those six decades, he’s seen and heard it all.  Self-deprecation must be a defense mechanism.  In my fifteen years playing golf (including a few years working on a course) I feel like I have sixty years worth of golf experiences.  Maybe golf years are like dog years.  In that case, Bob Cayne is like the Methuselah of golf.

As I said at the top, I have a soft spot for golf humor books, and …Nothing Major definitely delivers.  Cayne has a lifetime of humor to share.  It’s a lot of fun, delivered in short bursts, appropriate for even the most ADD-stricken among us.  I enjoyed the book and if this kind of golf book is your thing, I think you will too.

You can get more information about the book at the …Nothing Major website.

Sorry I’ve been so scarce around here lately.  I’ve been extremely unhappy with the way the golf season wound down for me and I needed some time to mentally move on.  To be honest, I haven’t hit a shot since my disaster in mid-October.

Sometimes it’s best just to leave it alone for a while when things don’t go well.  Otherwise strong commitment can degrade into unbearable burden.  When golf stops being fun, then something’s wrong.  Well, I took a month-long breath and I think that did the trick.  I can tell you that when I hit balls again, I’m going to be fearful of the shanks, but I know how to work through it, so I’ll get that resolved eventually.

So, now what?  The first step is to evaluate the year.  It wasn’t all bad, even though it didn’t end well.  I got my handicap down to around 13 officially, but I was playing better than that by the end of summer.  As you probably know, once there are a lot of scores in the system, it’s hard to move the number quickly, but that’s OK.

I made improvements in every aspect of the game this year.  I was especially happy with the way I was hitting my irons near the end (prior to my October melt-down – in fact, let’s pretend October never happened.  From here out, I’m referring to the period up to that, unless otherwise specified).

My stats show that I need work in most of the statistical categories, but driving was a sore spot for me near the end.  I was having trouble hitting fairways and on my course, that’s a big problem because of the difficulty of the rough.  Putting also got a little hairy near the end, but that’s just a matter of putting time in to keep my touch sharp. I was spending a lot of time trying to iron out some of my shot-making problems and kind of let my short game coast along at the end.

In a physical sense, it wasn’t a bad year.  The only injury of note was that weird muscle problem near my hip in the middle of the summer.  I do feel like that robbed me of some momentum, but it went away after a while, so that’s good, at least.

That leads me to the plan moving forward.  Almost.

I did something different this year than what I did the first two years.  When I started this adventure, I obviously knew the importance of fitness in improving my golf game.  My problem was, I tried to do too much at the same time.  This year, I switched things up.  I worked on my fitness last winter and then when golf season arrived, I pretty much went to sporadic gym sessions and focused 99% of my energy directly on golf.

That actually worked really well for me.  I got my strength, flexibility, and endurance up and it served me well all season.  Aside from that one muscle tweak, I felt better physically than I had in previous years and I was able to play and practice more this year than I did in either of the first two years.

Where it really helped was with the mental grind.  I didn’t force myself to choose between practice/play and working out.  I wasn’t stretching myself thin time-wise, trying to fit it all in.

I like the way it worked out so much, that I’m going to do that again.  I just started working out again, and I’m feeling pretty good.  I have some work to do with my endurance, but strength-wise, I’m just about where I want to be.

Speaking of strength, remember when I told you about the Max Golf Workout?  That thing is the real deal.  I was using the “max contraction” method last winter and when the season kicked in, I was strong, and I was happy with my strength all summer long.

Now, I just started working out again.  I’ve done exactly two workouts, and my strength is at or above where it was at the beginning of the year.  Keep in mind that a strength exercise with that method is one 30-60 second rep with a 7-14 day rest period between workouts targeting a specific area.  I did my strength training two Sundays ago and again last Sunday.  When I worked out the second time, I had already maxed the curl machine, the bench press machine, the fly machine, and several others.  I can probably progress further with heavier free weights, but there isn’t much point.  I’m happy to just maintain a certain plateau and concentrate on endurance.  It really does feel like cheating to build strength so easily.

With respect to golf, I’m going to try and play and practice whenever I can, weather permitting, through the winter.  I’m signed up for a scramble on Thanksgiving morning for fun, so hopefully I can beat back the shanks before then.

Beyond that, I’ll continue to do the indoor things I typically do in the off-season.  I’ll spend time with my Pelz Putting Track and Elk’s Key working on my putting stroke.  I’ll also keep a few clubs inside to work on my grip, stance, posture, etc.  I can’t do much with full swings in here, but I think I’ll be able to get enough outdoor practice and that won’t be a problem.

So that’s it.  Well, I’d also like to crank out a little more content here too, since I should have more free time for a few months.  I have some book reviews in the works and I haven’t done a lot of technical posts lately, which I’d like to do more often.

I’m interested to know how all of you will be spending your off seasons, as well.  Those of you in places with no real off-season – keep the bragging to a minimum.  I won’t be able to contain my jealousy.

I think I’m pumped again.  Ahh, I needed that.

When I was contacted by Jon Fitzgerald a while back, I was immediately interested in reviewing his documentary The Back Nine.  Fitzgerald, a veteran film maker, had embarked on a journey to become a professional golfer.  Naturally, he documented the entire experience.

The Back Nine is a documentary of his entire journey.  It covers his experience from all angles.  There is not only the work on his game but we also witness the interaction and support of those around him and the effect of it all on his life in some very profound ways.

When Jon Fitzgerald started the journey, he was over the age of 40, but he was armed with serious determination.  His dedication took him through a lot of hard work with a swing coach, a mental game coach, and a fitness coach.  In the process of putting in all that work, he lowered his handicap by 11 strokes.

Part of the desire to become a pro comes from his strong competitive spirit.  He found an outlet for that on the Golf Channel Amateur Tour.  He didn’t just spend time putting the back yard and beating balls at the driving range.  He worked hard to hone his competitive edge.

Naturally, regular readers will be able to infer that Jon Fitzgerald’s journey hit home with me.  His goal is a little different than mine, but his desire and competitive spirit are the same.  I try to learn all I can and seeing what others are doing to achieve similar things is very informative for me.

Aside from being an educational experience, I found The Back Nine to be very inspirational.  Watching a person work so hard for something is quite uplifting, especially when golf is the goal.

The Back Nine went way beyond golf, though.  Through the film, Fitzgerald found himself redefining relationships in his life.  His parents were divorced when he was younger and growing up, there was something lacking in the relationships he shared with his father and stepfather.

One of the more touching segments of The Back Nine showed Fitzgerald taking a golf trip to Scotland and Ireland with his father.  His purpose was to visit the home of golf and to draw on that for his quest, but visiting the place of his ancestors with his father had a profound effect beyond just golf.

I personally enjoyed this film a great deal.  It actually exceeded my expectations. It had special meaning for me because of the nature of the quest, but I think the story is compelling on many levels beyond just golf.  It’s about determination, dreams, family, and priorities.

I won’t reveal how it all turned out, but the journey is what it’s all about.  I enjoyed this film and I think you will too.  You can get more information at the website by clicking here.

Oh boy, I went and did it.  It’s the end of the season here and I put myself in a very bad position.

The days are getting pretty short now, so most of my work is accomplished on the weekend, though I have tried to make arrangements here and there to play a round or hit the driving range during the week.

As you may recall from my previous update, I was a little torn about trying to make one last surge to improve my handicap, versus doing things that might cause short-term pain for long-term gain.  I chose the latter, but, well, this isn’t what I had in mind.

Let’s rewind a couple of weeks.

I was preparing for a weekend driving range session and it occurred to me that I hadn’t taken video of my swing for a while, so I took my camera with me.  I had been hitting the ball fairly well, but I wanted to look for improvement as well as things still needing to be improved. I recorded a number of swings with a number of different clubs, both down the target line and face-on.

I went home and started analyzing swing after swing in slow motion.  Immediately, it was apparent with every club that I was having problems staying on plane.  My takeaway was decent (but not quite where I want it to be) but right at the top of the back swing, I was cupping my left wrist and getting the club way across the plane.  This led to a steep, over the top down swing, which kind of explains why I’ve been missing to the right lately.

I also noticed that my stance was a little wide and I wasn’t getting my weight all the way to the left, especially with the driver.  That also explains why I started slicing it recently.  I was hanging back to the right just a little.

So, I contemplated a couple of minor fixes.  First, I would keep my wrists more quiet on the back swing, making sure to keep my left wrist more flat and the club more on-plane.  Second, I would narrow my stance a little, making sure to transfer my weight to the right on the back swing and then to the left on the down swing.

The next day, I went out to the course.  Because it was late in the day, I only had time to hit a few warm-up balls.  I tried to feel the changes I wanted to make, and had some nice results.  I don’t typically try and make changes on the course, but I was just playing a practice round, so it wasn’t inappropriate for what I wanted to accomplish.

After a few holes, I noticed some excellent improvements.  I was hitting my irons very crisply.  The narrower stance had me really killing my driver.  I had two in excess of 320 yards, and that was on a cool, 50-degree day, when the ball doesn’t carry quite as far.

I did notice something odd. The shots that I didn’t hit well were contacted more toward the heel of the club, whereas all year, my misses were toward the toe.  I even shanked one or two.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and I hadn’t gotten any work in, due to lots of rain around here at all the wrong times.

When I got out to the course again, I tried to continue the changes that I had success with, and what did I find?  Awful slicing and and ever-increasing number of shanks.  It got so bad that during my next practice round, I didn’t even finish.  I packed it in.  The improvements were gone and I was left with smoldering ruins.

I made a critical mistake. Two, really.

First, I committed to making a couple of changes to my swing when I knew that I might not be able to put in a lot of work because of short days and the possibility of bad weather. Not being able to get in enough repetitions, when I went back to trying to change again, I very likely wasn’t changing exactly how I had intended and with long breaks between sessions, it just got worse.  By the way, Joe warned me about this a few weeks ago. I should have heeded that advice, but in fairness, I think my logic for tinkering wasn’t outrageous, but had I listened, I would have avoided these problems.

Second, I made a couple of changes without consulting my pro. It’s not that I intended to do that.  It’s just that I assumed I would tell him the next day and see what he thought, but bad weather rolled in and we still haven’t crossed paths.  I don’t feel like I should make a habit of making changes like that without talking it over. We have a plan and he’s the pro, and keeping that in mind will help keep me on the right path.  One of my problems is a tendency to try new things all the time. That’s good in some ways, but when there’s an existing plan, it can be a hindrance.

At the point of meltdown, I did the only thing I could.  Last weekend, I went back out to the range and just tried to go back to where I was. I concentrated on the things I’ve been working on all year and just tried to feel my “old” swing.  And I scheduled a lesson for this Saturday.

Unfortunately, Murphy’s Law was working in over-drive.  I was striking the ball better, but things were still out of place.  I was slicing the ball.  My divots were pointing left.  That tells me I was probably coming over the top.  I didn’t have my camera with me so I don’t have a definitive answer.

On top of that, my pro spends the late fall and winter in Florida.  Fortunately, I have a lesson scheduled for Saturday, which is his last weekend here for the year.  That’s good, at least, but it means I’m going to be on my own over the winter.

If I’m not restored to my previous glory after that lesson, then I’m going to have to rely on myself to keep myself on the right track over winter.  I don’t expect to improve much with irregular winter play, but I’d at least like to remain stable so I can start where I left off when spring arrives.

If this had all happened in July, it would almost be a non-issue.  Being the end of the season makes the timing just awful.  After my lesson Saturday, it’s going to be hard to get enough regular practice to fix whatever went wrong and groove it properly.  During the summer, when I was able to work at it all the time, things were moving in a positive direction virtually all the time.  Now, it’s like everything fell apart.

Oh well.  These are the trials and tribulations that make life interesting.