The Golfchick

That chick blabbing about anything golf related.

Author: Levi

Tee It While We’re Young

July 6, 2013 / / 24 Comments

One of the biggest issues currently in the game, anyone from the casual golfer to the touring pro will agree, is slow play. In the last couple years, the golfs various governing bodies have devised their own attempts at resolving the slow play issue. The PGA of America came up with “Tee It Forward”, the USGA with “While We’re Young”, and the PGATOUR with “Its Not Our Fault”. I recently had the ‘opportunity’ to play golf with a coworker (lets call him Jim) who, in a good month plays once, and if he kept accurate score would shoot 120 under the best of circumstances. This experience made me acutely aware of one thing…. The average golfer has no clue what they are doing.

Let me explain why I, as of this round, am completely against all “initiatives” taken by golf’s governing bodies.

1 – I can count on one hand how often Jim, in all of his 116* shots that day, actually saw where his ball finished. He could have teed off from the 150 markers, and the only way that would have sped up the round was the fact we have 4 fewer shots per hole to look for. I cannot imagine how long that round would have taken had it been him and 3 similarly skilled golfers in the same group. I was raised on a golf course, and the ability to watch and find golf balls was instilled in me at a very young age. Had I not been there, he’d have either lost close to 30 balls that day, or he’d STILL be playing that round, 4 days later.

2 – The inability for Jim to understand efficiency around the course, especially the greens, astounded me. Without getting too wordy, let me give the most ridiculous example of an event when I considered a sand wedge to my forehead may be a better option than golf with Jim. 5th hole, Jim had chipped onto the green, about 60 feet from the hole (after subsequent 5 minute ball searches in the right rough). Jim brought his wedge and putter, like any golfer should do. After putting his 60 footer about 20 feet short, Jim walked up to his ball (it was still his turn), marked it, and promptly walked back to his wedge, which was sitting 40 feet away on the green between himself and the cart, retrieved it, and took it back with him to his mark that was comfortably resting 20 feet from the hole. WTF?!?! THE WEDGE WOULD HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU ON YOUR RETURN TO THE CART!!!

3 – At least once per hole after a poor shot, Jim would magically pull a ball from his pocket, drop it from where the previous ball was played, and make another horrific attempt at a golf shots (after yet another excessively long and unnecessary pre-shot routine).

4 – For someone who was very liberal with not counting tops, whiffs, chunks, etc… the time spent over 2 foot putts was absolutely ridiculous.

5 – This next point has virtually nothing to do with slow play, but it confuses me to no end, and no matter how many ways I asked the question, I could never get an answer. Jim was driving the cart, and when he pulled up to the green, every time, he’d pull the cart off the path completely before he stopped. Why?!? Parking a cart on concrete doesn’t kill grass. Parking a cart on grass does. Forget the agronomy of the parking issue, I don’t expect most people to understand that…when I park my car I don’t look for the nearest grassy area, I leave it on the concrete, which was obviously designed for the parking of my car. The same goes with the cart!!

Conclusion:

At no point did Jim consider himself to be a slow golfer, and when asked “hypothetically” about ways he could speed his round up, he could make no recommendations. Nor had Jim ever heard of the “Tee It Forward” or “While We’re Young” campaigns. This round of golf, and my discussions with him, made me realize one very important thing….

The average golfer has no interaction with golf other than their 5 hour, once per month rounds. The USGA and PGA can have all the initiatives they want, but promoting them solely on golf broadcasts or in golf publications only reaches the people who already know they are slow and who want to improve. The average golfer doesn’t watch golf telecasts, doesn’t watch The Golf Channel, doesn’t subscribe to golf periodicals, they smuggle a 6pack of beer onto their local muni once a month and smack a ball around in a game that loosely resembles golf.

Do I have an answer to this dilemma? Maybe. Does it involve anything less than physical torture and removal from golf courses? Potentially. I haven’t thought through it enough to post my solutions…however, I would love to hear your ideas and solutions as it relates to the slow play problem. Is there a solution? What do you think?

Nike Covert Distance Challenge(d) at Golf Galaxy

April 4, 2013 / / 8 Comments

Earlier this month, I was invited to take part in a Nike Covert Distance Challenge at Golf Galaxy, which was being held every weekend (Friday – Sunday) in March. I’m a golf junkie, as anyone who knows me understands, so obviously I was pretty excited to take part in this exercise. I’m always in the market for new golf equipment, and after Nike’s recent media barrage, I was very interested to see how the new Covert driver stacked up against my current gamer.

Below are some excerpts from the invitation I received:

“Golf Galaxy has teamed up with Nike to bring golfers across the country the Nike Covert Distance Challenge. Every weekend (Friday through Sunday) in March, Nike gurus will be in-store to deliver club fittings. Golfers of all levels are invited to bring in their existing driver to test against the new Nike VR_S Covert Tour. Just by participating in a fitting, the golfer will be given a free sleeve of Nike 20XI golf balls.

If you haven’t already tried the VR_S Covert, now is the best chance to try a driver that offers FlexLoft adjustability and unique high-speed cavity back technology—all backed by the one-on-one support of a Nike fitting guru.”

I’ll say it again. I’m a golf junkie, and the invitation is worded exactly how I would expect a driver fitting/comparison to go. I’m all for new equipment, but not until I know how it stacks up against what I’ve already grown to love and use on a daily basis. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to see how Nike’s new Covert performed. And then I went to my local Golf Galaxy to participate…..

I walked into the store, a store I frequent at least twice a week during the golf season, to an expected swarm of people who are also excited about the impending spring. The weather has finally turned, the sun was shining, golf courses are starting to open, and people are in their local Golf Galaxy to check out the latest apparel and equipment. The store’s putting green was full of a local college golf team’s players, competing for what we will assume are bragging rights. The clothing department is a collection of all walks of life, trying to decide which latest fashion will make them play better, or at least look like their beloved Rickie Fowler. Resisting the urge to stop the elderly gentleman from buying a flat billed orange hat, I walked past and approached my nearest Sales Associate.

Me- “Hi, are you doing the Nike Covert Distance Challenge today?”

Sales Associate- “Which one?”

Me- “The Covert driver fitting and comparison.”

SA- “Which club you wanna hit?”

Me- “Uh, the driver?”

SA- “I mean which head. Tour or regular?”

Me- “Tour head, that’s what’s on my current driver.”

With this nugget of new information, the Sales Associate scurries off, with no indication if I was to follow or wait for him. I followed him, because it just felt right. I caught up to him digging through a pile of Nike equipment conveniently located by the same launch monitor on which I was fit for my last driver.

“Perfect” I say to myself, “This should be fun. Let’s get on this launch monitor and get things started.” Instead, the Sales Associate asks what loft I want to hit. I think to myself “That’s strange, shouldn’t we determine what loft is best during the fitting?” But, rather than get in the way of what I assumed was his process, I said, “I play a 10.5 now, let’s go with that.” The Sales Associate hands me a club, points to a simulator and says “That simulator’s open” and wanders away, never to be seen again. At no point during our encounter did I get the feeling that this simulator time was going to be for me to warm up, get a feel for the club, nothing. So, I hit a few shots into the simulator with this new club, waited around for the Sales Associate’s unlikely return, and then left the store. Not only did I leave without the sleeve of golf balls I was promised, I left with no more knowledge of the Covert driver than I had when I went into the store compounded by the sour taste of poor customer service in my mouth. Thankfully, I was headed to lunch shortly after.

I won’t let myself believe this was the actual process that Nike or Golf Galaxy had in mind when they sent this invitation. If this was in fact the process, I don’t have the words to describe my disappointment. Maybe this Sales Associate was supposed to perform the fitting, and just wasn’t having a good day. I doubt this as well, as the invitation said Nike Guru’s would be on site to perform the fitting. In my opinion, one of two things happened, neither of which are acceptable but would provide some explanation.

1- This Sales Associate had no idea what I was talking about, but rather than ask someone, he thought it would be easier to send the oblivious customer, who he assumed had no intention of actually buying a golf club, to the nearest simulator to wail away on some balls.

2- The actual Nike Guru was not at the store as advertised, but rather than tell me that, thought it would be easier to send the oblivious customer, who he assumed had no intention of actually buying a golf club, to the nearest simulator to wail away on some balls.

As an aside, the day prior to this, I was randomly paired for 9 holes with a manager of that very store, and I had mentioned my intentions to do this fitting, and he seemed to know what I was talking about. All of these factors leave me at a loss for a valid explanation of my experience. I went into this Covert Challenge fully prepared to write a review of the process, and ultimately of my opinion of the Nike Covert driver itself. So, what is my opinion of the process and ultimately of the driver itself? I’ll offer some words of advice I was recently given.

“That simulator’s open.”

Next post.

Binge, Purge, Repeat, and Enjoy

March 19, 2013 / / 6 Comments

The official start of spring is only a few days away. Unless, you subscribe to the theories of those witch doctors known as meteorologists. Somehow, in their crazy brains, the start of “meteorological spring” actually occurred on March 1. Those clowns have been pissing me off repeatedly for a few months now, and this is just another example. Anyway, Spring has almost sprung, as the old saying goes. I write these ramblings sitting in my home office looking out my window into my backyard, and as of this writing, only a small pile of snow remains where the sun doesn’t quite yet shine. And there’s some in my yard too.

I call this the season of Hope. In the upper Midwest, where I reside, I subscribe to the theory of 4 seasons, like the rest of the world. However, my seasons are Hope, Summer, Sadness, and Hell. I’ve spent this latest season, Hell (winter), under the spell of my annual coping mechanism, oblivion. Sure I know what’s going on outside, and I deal with that, however when it comes to golf, I shut off my brain. Whether it be thinking about it, writing about it, watching it, or anything else involving it, it’s best I just avoid them all together. As all 4 of my faithful readers know, I’ve been fortunate enough to take a few trips to the desert this year to play a some rounds, and earlier this week I spent 36 holes in 80 degree sunshine in the tropical locale of Kansas City, Missouri. Upon my arrival back home, a dejected, isolationist funk overcame me, once again. That funk led to an epiphany, a way to describe to those not addicted to the wretched game of golf just how I was feeling. And, my lack of motivation to go to the gym this morning is leading me to write about it. So, you, the reader, are benefiting from both my depression and my laziness, how thoughtful of me.

Is there anything more painful to an addict than the occasional hit of a drug, knowing during the entire trip that after coming down from that high the next hit could be weeks, even months away? Is that a reason to celebrate the buzz, or lament its futility? As I review the past few months, the question I continually ask myself, was taking those trips good or bad? Now, even I will acknowledge the memories and friends made on those trips far outweigh the angst of the occasional hit of my chosen drug. But, as far as the psychological impact of these random golf benders, is the binge and purge method really a good one? All doctors, self proclaimed experts, or anyone that stayed in a Holiday Inn Express last night will tell you, moderation is the key to happiness. But let’s face it, I don’t do anything half-assed. Except of course exercise, work, cleaning my house, yard work, laundry, cleaning my garage, balancing my checkbook, double checking my taxes…. Well ok, you get the point, I don’t do golf half assed. I also stayed in a Holiday Inn Express last week, so does that make me an expert too?

After much reflection, and a few cups of coffee, I’ve come to a decision. Maybe the binge and purge method isn’t the best method, but it’s the only method I know. I’d much rather have the excitement of an upcoming golf trip to get me through the dark dreary winter days than nothing at all. Like any good addict, I will continue to do anything in my power to feed my addiction. The first step to overcoming an addiction is to admit we are powerless over the drug, and that our lives have become unmanageable.

I admit I’m powerless, but so far I seem to be managing just fine.

Next post.

Is this real life?

February 19, 2013 / / 6 Comments

Post written by Levi.

I remember once explaining the difference between Facebook and Twitter to a less tech-savvy coworker. “Facebook is a way to keep in touch with your friends. Post a status or photo about what’s going on in your life. Twitter is for people to tell other people they’re standing in line at Subway. I don’t care that someone’s standing in line ordering a sandwich.” I created a Twitter account on July 4 2009.

I created that account for 1 reason really. That reason, obviously, was to feed my addiction to golf. I’d heard that professional golfers were all “tweeting” and I, eternally frustrated by what I considered to be too slow of a golf news cycle on the major websites, figured following their “tweets” would keep me more informed. I set up my account, and followed anyone related to professional golf I could find. Players, writers, caddies, you name it, if it was related to the game of golf I followed. I had no intention of tweeting. In all honesty, I didn’t quite know how to use it. And, I loved it. I could see what Stewart Cink was putting on his smoker, I could see pictures of pros playing cards during rain delays, I could read what caddies did after the round, it was an all access pass into the game and lives of professional golfers. Over time, I’d add a real life friend in the mix, or a friend of a friend, or a guy I knew from golf, but it remained primarily a tool for me to see inside the world of professional golf. I’d tweet occasionally, that tweet going out to all 14 of my followers. My tweets were only about golf, Twitter was to be my online golf persona, nothing else. Over time, I gained some followers I didn’t know, presumably based on my random golf tweets.

And then, at some point, everything changed. Acquaintances turned into friends. Friends of those friends became friends of mine. But, that’s pretty much where it stopped. There was always one degree of separation between those new friends and myself. The more followers I had, the more I tweeted. I stuck to golf, primarily, because I had my Facebook account for my “real” friends. At the risk of rambling, I’m going to yadda yadda over the next year of my Twitter existence. Fast forward to about 3 months ago. I had slowly but surely stopped following golfers, writers, and generally anyone I didn’t “know”. My followers were real people, most of whom I’d never heard of and certainly never met. I followed people with whom the only connection we had was the love of golf. I’d actually started to strike up genuine friendships with strangers from all over the world.

At some point in December, I was invited to join some Twitter friends (normally I’d put “friends” in quotation marks, but these individuals have truly become friends) on a trip to Scottsdale for a golf vacation. The plan was for golf, friends, and a trip to the one and only Waste Management Phoenix Open.

I’m not going to get into the details of the trip, I don’t feel like words can do it even close to justice. One item I will share, however, is a shining example of how friendships can be created by social media. The group had rented a condo about 2 blocks from the main entrance of TPC Scottsdale. When I got to town, I had the address, and when I arrived at the condo, the door was cracked open. Did I knock? Hell no. I opened the door, barged in and the virtual friendship we’d all grown comfortable with immediately transferred to real life.

Levi, the captain, at WMO

I spent 3 nights and 4 days, had thousands of laughs and created innumerable memories with the group that week. Herb (@mctwentytwo) and Courtney (@lilwolp) came from Pennsylvania, myself (@Levigolfs) from Iowa, Cody (@golfingblademan) and Tiffany (@tiffanyrn11) from Southern Arizona and Matt (@oneputtblunder) from Phoenix all welcomed each other with open arms and open hearts that week.

There is no reason on this earth that the 6 of us should have been put together for those few days in Scottsdale. But let me say this, I’m glad the earth spun its magic and made that week happen. I’d have considered every one of those individuals friends prior to that meeting at what has been dubbed #scottsdale2013, but I consider them to be lifelong friends today. I can also easily name another 10 or 15 “tweeps” that would be encouraged and welcomed to #scottsdale2014. The last I checked, there’s no such thing as too many friends.

What’s the moral of this story? I guess I haven’t really thought that far yet. The moral of this story… the most random of occurrences can have the most unexpected results. So many of us, myself being the biggest offender, focus so much of our lives on the game of golf. While I’ve known this forever, this trip reinforced my belief that golf isn’t just a game. Golf is the facilitator to the good life. Sure, I have good days and bad days. I hit more bad shots than I hit good shots. I yell at my steering wheel after another missed cut, and I might drink a little too much when I get home. But, at the end of the day, the people I’ve met because of this wretched game have become lifelong friends. So, before we all die and come back as zombies looking to feed on the fresh flesh of non-golfers, lets enjoy today and look forward to tomorrow.

The photo/video montage can be seen here. Many photos of the all the shenanigans as well as the guys’ golf swings can be found within.

Editor’s note: I’m pretty sure Levi met me before any of these people on the twitters. And that I “introduced”  him to some key players, without which, this story may never have taken place. Yet, I got no mention. I’m a little put off. I should be big about this and not say anything, but I’m not. I’m bitter that I couldn’t join them on the trip due to prior obligations. Maybe he’s the bitter one. Because he can’t have really forgotten that, right? :p  Anyway, the twitters have brought a lot to my life as well. And I can’t wait to meet my twitter friends in “real life” for the first time. And, in case you’re wondering, I’m @thegolfchick on the twitters. Hope to see you there!

 Next post.

Dear Santa

December 25, 2012 / / 4 Comments

As most of you know, and some of you probably even care, I’m currently buried under more than a foot of snow, and oppressed with temperatures hovering around 0 degrees f. For my readers across the pond, I have no idea what that means in your crazy Metric system. Yes I know I sound like a closed minded American, and, well… I just don’t understand Metric. This combination of annual events generally leads me to completely forget about my passion for all things golf, as a coping mechanism. This year is no different, however, I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to take some trips, with more planned, to the desert to chase the sun, feel the warmth, and watch that little white golf ball fly in the completely wrong direction as intended. Some people call me crazy to fly 3000 miles round-trip for a weekend of sun and golf, and it pains me to say this, those people are right. But, I’m not crazy by their definition, I’m crazy by the addicted golfer definition. Do what it takes to do what we love.

As I sit here at my computer this Christmas morning, drinking my Bailey’s and coffee, looking out my window over the barren landscape of white and grey, I’m almost feeling prepared to write something inspirational that cures the world of all its ill’s. But, then I remember I’m not capable of that, and even if I were, you wouldn’t be reading a golf blog for that inspiration. Its the holiday season, and this season is supposedly supposed to make us all sit back and reflect on what the prior year has taken and given, how we feel about those events, and what they mean to us. More has happened in the last month than most of us have cared to deal with.

The Mayan calendar supposedly signaled the end of the world for Dec 21, and unless our pre-armageddon lives are eerily similar to our post-apocalypse existence, there’s a whole bunch of Mayan’s laughing and pointing at us from the afterlife. There wasn’t a giant earth-shattering explosion, no asteroid carrying Bruce Willis and the remnants of his world saving space craft plummeted through the atmosphere, and no zombies came out of the ground looking to feed on our soft supple skin. Now, I’ve never been a big believer of zombies, although I did recently see an interview with Joan Rivers and I’m starting to rethink my stance. In the days leading up to Dec 21, I often though to myself (i’ve had a lot of free time on my hands) if the world does end, I hope its some slow but obvious chain of events that allows us to enjoy the end, not just some instant end where no one gets to play the “I told you so” game. If there was a zombie uprising, would you let one into your Saturday morning scratch skins game, knowing that zombie doesn’t have near the flexibility or mental fortitude to make a good golf swing, and risk potential death to take his money? What if he coughed in your backswing? Say something and risk annihilation? Will the undead give you that 6inch putt? What if he takes an illegal drop? Let it go, or make him play a new ball, and risk having your face chewed off? What if Joan Rivers is a sandbagger and you get taken? See what I did there? I got you all imagining how a zombie would look, and then threw Joan Rivers at you. You can’t un-imagine that. If Joan Rivers happens to be reading this, I’m sorry Joan, no harm intended, but you really went overboard with your procedures. Even Dick Clark taught us that no matter how young we continue to look, our bodies will eventually give out. In case the reader didn’t realize, A.D.D. is fun sometimes.

Anyway, a few days before the forecasted apocalypse, a disturbed kid went into an ELEMENTARY school and gunned down 20 kids, 6 teachers, and his mother. If we didn’t believe in the end of the world, that morning we all collectively had a small piece of us that hoped the Mayan’s were right. If that kind of shit was happening, why do we even want to be here? Whats the tie-in to golf here? Nothing. I just wanted to talk about that. The issues surrounding that event are far to complex for my mind to comprehend or even have an opinion about. The world needs to change, and we golfers are supposedly the most honest and caring group of them all. And if we aren’t, we should make that our mission to be known as such. We can change the world with one act of random kindness at a time. Hey, there’s that golf tie in I was looking for! And, in the words of Forrest Gump, that’s all I have to say about that.

As I said, its Christmas morning, and I have some Christmas wishes.

Wish 1 – I want the game of golf to grow, for club rosters to be full, for people to see the value and benefit of the game of golf in their lives.

Wish 2 – I want every single one of you to test yourself in some sort of an individual tournament. Net, Scratch, Matchplay, Strokeplay, whatever. The feeling of knowing there’s no one to bail you out, to know the shot you’re about to hit matters, thats an experience every golfer should know. You’ll appreciate that game more, and no matter what you shoot, how you finish, you’ll be a better player for it.

Wish 3 – I want to turn my negative emotions to positive emotions, and build on them. I can’t change the past, can only control the next shot. And if it doesn’t go where I wanted it to go, chase that ball down and try again.

Wish 4 – Give back. Buy a kid a lesson. Buy a kid a sleeve of golf balls. Give a kid your “lucky” ball if you encounter them on the course. Instead of playing thru that group of 2 kids, join them. And be an adult while you’re at it. If kids see you acting like a jackass on the course, they’ll do the same. Then, watch them play, the enthusiasm they have, encourage their shots, all of them. It will wear off on you, I promise. Basically what I’m saying is be a good example.

Wish 5- Play like a kid. Its a game, its fun, we wouldn’t have started playing it if it wasn’t.

Wish 6- PLAY FASTER!

Wish 7- Buy something from your club. Sure, that shirt, club, dozen balls, glove, or whatever may be a few dollars more expensive than it is at the discount big-box retailer, but your Pro is trying to make a living providing you with a service. Take advantage of that. And while you’re at it, take a lesson.

Wish 8- Get to know someone you’re randomly paired with on the course. Some of my best friends are people I met on the 1st tee of local muni’s.

Wish 9- I want to golf with some of the amazing people I’ve met on Twitter. That sounds crazy, but, one can’t ever have too many friends. (side note – this has already been arranged for a late January round with friends from all over the US, and its going to be a blast).

Wish 10- GO LOW.

Well kids, I’m out of coffee and its now Christmas afternoon. No matter your reason for celebrating, and no matter how you are celebrating, I hope you’re having a good time at it. I’d love to see some of your Christmas wishes. Post them in the comments, or send them to me at Levi@thegolfchick.com. I’m always looking for new things to write about, maybe you’ll give me some inspiration. And, if your wish is for me to stop writing these pointless blog posts, Santa is watching you, knows where you golf, and the next time you hit a shot OB, remember what you wished for!!!

Next post.

HomeStriker Training Golf Ball Review

November 16, 2012 / / 2 Comments

I received my HomeStriker Training Golf Ball in the mail, and was immediately confused by the contents of the package. I was under the impression that I would receive a state of the art, space age interpretation of a golf ball that mimicked the feel and flight characteristics of a real golf ball. Then, I open the package and find a brand new Nike golf ball, with what appears to be a handkerchief superglued to it. Two things immediately occurred to me when seeing this… #1 – why in the world would someone attempt to super glue a handkerchief to a golf ball, and #2 – the miniscule amount of physics that I do understand says that this handkerchief will slow the golf ball at an incredible rate after being struck with a golf club.

The day I received this package, it was about 35 degrees, cloudy, and windy. But, I was determined to smack this concoction around, and immediately grabbed a 6 iron and went to my back yard. I tossed the HomeStriker on the ground, and scared to death about my neighbors windows, took a half swing at the device. A pure strike, with about half effort, resulted in a well struck golf ball with realistic feel that traveled roughly 15 yards. I chased the ball down (not a lot of work) and gave it another half whack…. another 15 yards, but those 15 yards were the result of a normally 90 yard swing. Still scared, but with a renewed curiosity, I decided to take a full swing at this contraption. Still not fully trusting it, I went to my front yard, where I paced off 30 yards from the street to myself, having been told that 30 yards is the flight limit of this practice aid. Thankfully I waited until an unsuspecting car passed, as a full lash at the HomeStriker resulted in a 40 yard launch of the handkerchief adorned golf ball. After retrieving the ball from the street, greeting my across the street neighbor, and thanking my well written home owners insurance policy that I didn’t hit any passing cars, I realized that the test shot was considerably downwind. The 40 yard shot was the absolute limit of my power, and the feedback from striking a real golf ball was refreshing.

After taking a few more swings, I began to evaluate this practice device. My initial reaction, and the reaction that I was going to stick with, wasn’t a great one for the HomeStriker. I have unlimited access to a practice facility, and the ability to hit practice balls at most hours of the day. Sure, it was great that the practice ball had the feel characteristics of a real golf ball, but it has nothing close to the performance characteristics. I can’t practice a draw, fade, hook, cut, low, high, etc etc shot with it. It seemed like a novelty at the time, with no real benefit to someone like me, who’s lucky enough to have unlimited access to practice facilities. So, after a few strikes, I gave up on the device and tossed it in my golf bag and forgot about it.

Some background on me, I love the game of golf, I love everything about it, except for the individuals that like to play golf in the mornings. I love the game, I love my friends, but I also love to sleep. However, in the interest of being able to play with my friends, I sacrifice some sleep on the weekends and play golf with my buddies on early morning weekends. If the tee time is 8:00am, there’s a good chance that the other 3 guys in my group will have teed off already as I show up on the first tee at 8:02, tired, hungover, and in no condition to be making a full driver swing on the 470 yard par 4 first hole of my club.

As much as I hate waking up early, I hate the “breakfast ball” even more. If you’re so concerned about hitting a good one off the first tee that you want a mulligan of the 1st tee, show up early enough to warm up on the range. I’m neither concerned enough about hitting a good ball off the first tee, nor do I really want to show up in time to warm up. I assume bogey on the 1st hole that early in the morning, and figure that extra few minutes of sleep will probably help me make birdie on the 2nd hole to get back to even par as much as it will allow me to make a par 4 on the 1st hole. I love sleep.

The weekend after testing the HomeStriker and tossing it into the black hole that is my non-tournament bag, I happened to show up to the course a few minutes prior to tee time. As my faithful bartender was making me a Baileys and coffee (it was october after all) I had a few minutes to kill, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to head to the range to hit 2 warm up balls, and practice putting at that hour of the morning seemed ridiculous. I dug into my bag to find a tee, and came out with a handful of HomeStriker. The proverbial lightbulb went off in my head (granted it was early and cold, so the lightbulb wasn’t as bright as it should be, but in any event it was a lightbulb). I’m too lazy to head to the range to hit 2 warmup shots, but I hate watching my fellow competitors hit 2 off the first tee. Well, I’ve got a “golf ball” that no matter how hard I hit it, will only go 40 yards, which I can tee up and launch off our practice green, retrieve and hit back towards the original spot. Anyone that’s ever attempted this knows, that no matter how much you take “warm up” swings, if you’re not hitting a real golf ball it just isn’t the same. So, I tossed down the HomeStriker, and gave it a few whacks. This device immediately solved my issues. I don’t have to take the time to hit 2 or 3 range balls prior to my early morning round, and I don’t have to wake up 5 minutes earlier to facilitate that warm up. I can do some basic “1st tee stretches,” tee it up, and hit a few warmup shots prior to my 1st tee shot.

If this was prior to an actual tournament, I’d head to the range to warm up, hit different shot shapes, heights, clubs, distances, you name it. But this is my weekend fun play, I’m not going to take the time to do my proper warm up. The HomeStriker allows me a few swings, hitting a real golf ball, prior to my round. The golf ball is retrievable, reusable, and I don’t have to worry about breaking neighboring windows or bombarding fellow golfers with an errant warmup shot.

So, what is my opinion of the HomeStriker Training Golf Ball? In all honesty, I don’t see it as a “training golf ball”. A training aid, to me, allows someone to see shot shapes, heights and distances and allows the golfer to learn what each particular swing does to the golf ball. The HomeStriker, no matter how much I tried, won’t hook, draw, cut, or slice. I believe a true training aid needs to let the player see and experience those shots and the swing variations that create them. But, do I think the HomeStriker has value in the golfing world? Absolutely. It has proven to be an invaluable warmup tool in my previously contracted and neglected weekend off-season warmup routine. To this point, nothing can replace the experience of striking a real golf ball prior to a round, whether it be a full warmup session on the range, or a few quick hits on a HomeStriker Training Golf Ball. With the proper expectations going into a HomeStriker Training Golf Ball purchase, I believe it has a place in the game.

Next post.

Chasing The Dream?!?

November 8, 2012 / / 6 Comments

***Editor’s Note/Disclaimer: WARNING! This post contains the “S” word. Read at your own risk. TheGolfChick.com assumes no responsibility for any negative effects that reading this material may have on your game or your life. ***

 I’ve been watching the new Golf Channel show called Chasing the Dream, and it’s invoked some unexpected emotions and opinions from me. So much so, that I’m going to blog about it. In case you’re not familiar with the show, I’ll give you, my faithful readers, a brief synopsis. Golf Channel has found two professional golfers, each with a dream to make it in the professional game, and is following them during the 2012 season to see if they can reach their dream.

The two golfers come from vastly different backgrounds, which adds an interesting element to the show. One individual, Chris Anderson, is a former touring professional who even made it to the big show for a few years in the mid 2000’s. He has 3 professional wins, 2 on the Golden State tour, and 1 on the Hogan/Nike/Buy.com/Nationwide/Web.com tour in 2004. According to the show, Chris gave up the game to run his family’s forklift business in 2009, with the new responsibility of raising a young family. After a few years away, the “what if” bug has infected him, and he wants to give it another go. The other golfer, Robbie Biershenk, is a struggling driving range pro with an older brother (Tommy) who’s already made the PGATOUR. Robbie, who calls himself “Shank,” owns a roadside driving range, struggles with failing equipment and mounting bills, and gives the occasional lesson to make ends meet, all while living in the shadow of his brother. (Full disclosure – The word “shank” is a contagious disease to me. His nickname makes me hesitate to even watch the show. For anyone who’s ever had a case of the hosels, broken every club in their bag over their knee while standing on a driving range for hours, bashing ball after ball at a 90 degree right angle, barely able to see through the tears streaming out of their eyes and the blood dripping from their hands, that word needs to be removed from the English language. In fact, even saying that word at the course I grew up on would get you kicked out, and potentially beaten up by the geriatric retired men who felt even more strongly about that word than I do. I will be referring to him as Robbie, and will attempt to not let his truly awful nickname influence my opinion of him or the show.) Robbie feels that to to truly succeed in life, he has to succeed on the PGATOUR.

I’ve been watching this show for 3 or 4 weeks now, since its debut. In all honesty, my initial reaction was anger towards these guys. I had planned, and began writing, a scathing narrative chastising these guys for being ignorant and irresponsible, blindly chasing a dream that so many of us have, but are either too logical or frightened to pursue. And then, I watched another episode, and another…and I started to sympathize with their struggle. Those guys are chasing a dream that so many of us have, but are either too logical or frightened to pursue. Now I have 2 contradictory opinions about their pursuit, and after weeks of internal debate, cannot decide which side of my own argument to take.

Argument #1 – Wide Eyed Optimism

Both Chris and Robbie have a dream. Lots of golfers have the exact same dream, and some of those golfers have considerably more talent. Playing professional golf at an elite level takes more than being able to shoot good scores. Shooting those good scores, on increasingly difficult courses under smothering pressure requires hours of instruction and dedication to the art of striking a golf ball. Lots of players can hit good shots, but very few have the time and energy to devote to perfecting that art. Assuming a player has the time to dedicate, even fewer of those players have a body that can stand up to the number of golf swings a full day of practice requires. Robbie and Chris have incredibly long odds, and I commend them for not giving up. Both of them have careers, Chris even has a family to support, but they are both willing to make the mental, physical, and emotional sacrifices required to not let their dreams die. Their wide-eyed enthusiasm is refreshing in an increasingly adult world filled with commitments and responsibilities. They refuse to give up, and are an inspiration to every one of us who will always ask “what if” when it comes to potential golf careers. They know the odds are stacked against them, and while they don’t have the ability to dedicate 100% of their lives to playing golf, they are making due with what they have. They are practicing smart, focusing on what needs attention at the time, rather than their entire game every day. I genuinely hope they succeed and reach their goals.

Argument #2 – Are They Crazy?!?

What are these guys thinking? For every golfer who’s made a career playing the game, a thousand have failed. At some point, it’s time to grow up and accept that just because they want something, it doesn’t mean it will happen. Both of these guys are around 40 years old, 20 years older than the most recent crop of hopeful touring pros. 20 years older than the guys with no bad memories, and no crushing defeats, and no responsibilities waiting for them outside of the ropes. Chris and Robbie had their shots, now its time to accept the fact that golf wasn’t meant to be, and they should move on. These guys are splitting time between careers and golf, neither getting their full attention. Too much of that, and both will suffer. Guess what, we all have dreams, we will all go to our grave with a giant “what if” hanging over our head, but at some point we have to grow up and cut our losses. Give up already.

I don’t have any idea which side of my own argument to take. The cynical part of me thinks these guys need to get a clue, accept the fact they just don’t have it, and move on with life. The child in me thinks its great, these guys have thrown caution to the wind, risking all they have spent their lives building on the chance they catch lighting in a bottle at the exact right time. Each episode is like watching a train wreck with a new girlfriend. On the inside, wanting to see carnage and destruction, with no hope for survival and one heck of a story to tell the local news crew. All the while, telling the new girlfriend what you’re watching is awful and you hope everyone gets out safe. This is normally where I’d have some sort of conclusion statement, summarizing my thoughts. This time, however, I have no idea what I think. No idea at all.

Next post.

The End Is Near : Maybe the Mayans Were Golfers

October 19, 2012 / / 6 Comments

The end is near.  Wait a minute…Before you think I went all Harold Camping on you, I won’t be asking for donations to build a media campaign to inform the masses of the imminent apocalypse (unless of course you want to send me money, then I accept personal checks and PayPal).  But, back to the topic at hand.  The end is certainly near.  The Mayans were right you ask?  No, not that end either.  Justin Bieber still hasn’t reproduced, so we’re good for a while.  But, can you imagine the fun we could have if we knew for a fact the Mayans were in fact right, and we had 2 months left to plan and execute a militant type takeover of Augusta National, so we can all die knowing our bucket list was officially kicked?  And, since we’re in charge, we could get a fleet of carts, strap some stereos and kegs to them, and just have a good old time and watch the Green Jackets squirm?  Now I’m starting to hope the Mayans were right.  Anyone have any inside information that could be helpful?  Maybe I’ve had too much coffee this morning.

Seasons Exist

For those of us in a part of the world that experiences seasons, the end is most definitely near.  Since about March, (thank you Al Gore for inventing global warming) I have been treated to exponentially more days suitable for golf than weren’t.  Record heat and record drought resulted in more golfing days that ever before.  I don’t subscribe to the theory that it’s too hot to golf, so, many days I had the course almost to myself, except for the occasional fellow golf nerd I’d run into.  Golf outings could be planned days, weeks, even months in advance, because the chance of round-ruining weather was negligible at best.  There was enough light to golf well into the night, and I even heard a rumor that the sun was up and courses were open at close to 6am, but I can’t confirm that.  My social calendar was full, unavailable to anyone who wanted my time away from the game of golf.  I didn’t have to make plans, think of things to do on the weekends, or worry when my next round might get played.  In fact, I played so much golf, at times I’d convince myself to take some time away from the game, until after a few minutes I’d get bored and head to the course.  My days were filled with broad smiles and uncontrollable joy while playing, then rehashing, then planning the next round.  I was even told I was enjoyable to be around.  It was as close to heaven as a golf nut like myself can experience.

 

Image borrowed from http://www.worldend.org/2012/doomsday/pg1.html

The End of Times

Then, something happened.  It happens every year, but every year it seems to come earlier, and be more dramatic than the year before.  First, it gets darker earlier.  Then, the wind picks up and blows out of the north.  Then I find myself digging through the closet looking for a jacket to wear on the last few holes of the round.  Then the trees get sick.  The leaves turn a sickly brown color, and slowly start to fall off.  My Saturday morning tee time has to be pushed back, to allow for frost to clear off the greens.  My usual Thursday night game is cancelled because its raining and cold.  I stop practicing, my game loses its edge, but I don’t care anymore, because today could be the last round, so I want to enjoy it rather than grind out a score.  Then, one morning I wake up, and seemingly overnight every leaf that was once so healthy, green and proudly attached to the trees are all dead, laying on the ground, waiting for a bitter north wind to blow them away.  Sure, there will be a nice day here and there, and hopefully one of those nice days is on a weekend, so I can bundle up for a reunion with the 1st tee box.  But, when I get there, the grass is brown, and the course is but a shell of its former glorious self.  But, I’m a golf addict, and I slog ahead, still chasing whatever it is I’m chasing.

And now here I sit, staring out my window dreaming of the year that was.  Did I accomplish what I had hoped?  Did I put as much effort into my game that I should have?  Did I take time to enjoy the people I met, and get to know more of the other wonderful personalities that this incredible game has brought into my life?  Did I leave the course better than I found it?  Did I do anything to grow the game?  Did I enjoy the game like I did when I was a child, blissfully swinging and chasing that little ball with reckless abandon?  Winter’s coming, and I’ll have plenty of time to answer those questions, and put a plan in place to make 2013 the best year yet.  But, until then, the rain has slowed to a drizzle, my thermometer says its 45 degrees, and the wind has slowed to a manageable 25 mph gale; so if you’ll excuse me, I have an addiction to feed.  Because who knows, today could be the end.

[Editor’s note: Thanks, Levi. This may be the most depressing post about golf I’ve ever read. Unlike the zombie apocalypse and the 2012 Mayan prediciton, this annual golf apocalypse you speak of is no reason to party. My advice? Flee the state as soon as you can.]

Next post.

The slow player, the oblivious, the under-achiever, and the parent.

September 16, 2012 / / 6 Comments

Lots of things annoy me, I’m just that way.  I’m not sure if its because I think my way is better, or because I think your way is worse.  In fact, everyone annoys me.  Well, not you, but everyone else.  Maybe I shouldn’t say lots of things annoy me, maybe a better way to say it is EVERYTHING annoys me.  Every day, all day, I’m annoyed.  Like many, I spend some hours every day in an office.  Don’t get me started on everything that annoys me in there.  But, like a lot of people, I use the golf course to get away from the world.  Notice I didn’t say relax, because some days, and we all have them, golf just doesn’t seem relaxing.  Sure, every swing, every shot, every hole is an escape from life and without that escape, who knows where I’d be today.  But, when I’m on a golf course, I expect that the idiots that invade my life on a daily basis outside of golf won’t interfere with my life inside of golf.

All too often, I am dead wrong.

The slow player, the oblivious, the under-achiever, and worst of all – the parent.  

The Slow Player:

Most slow players don’t know they’re slow players.  Some do, and they pretend that they are trying to get faster.  Some do, and they frankly don’t give two shits about your opinion, because they’re good enough they think they’re allowed to be slow.  That accounts for about 20% of this annoying category.  Divide the remaining players up, and you’re left with a variety of individuals.  There’s the “I’m really good if I take my time and really focus on this shot, just not on that last shot, because I didn’t take enough time” guy.  85 shots later, he’s still not as good as he thinks he is.  Maybe after that 30 second pre-shot routine, you should have stood over the ball completely motionless for 60 seconds, instead of 45.  Those extra 15 seconds would have made all the difference.  Or, maybe you should have backed off the shot when you thought of all the bad shit that could result from your terrible pass at that poor little ball.  That ball did nothing to deserve being hit like shit, repeatedly, into places Paul Bunyan, Jacques Cousteau, Sir Edmond Hillary, or even that drunk college buddy you used to have would ever consider going into.  Please, for the love of all things holy, explain just what the hell you’re thinking about while you’re standing over the ball.  Does your heart  stop?  Do you stop breathing?  How in the hell can you remain motionless, in your “athletic address position” for so long without falling over?  Don’t your muscles tense up?  Doesn’t your brain stop working?  As my buddy says “What the hell are you worried about?  Just hit the damned ball, its gotta go somewhere!”  Well, I’ve seen you hit the shots, yes, I can confirm your brain stops working.  How do I know this?  Because, when you get to the green, you walk 20 yards from the cart to your ball that’s 10 feet off the green (after 4 shots), chip it onto the green, then walk all the way back to the cart to get your putter, then walk back to the green so you can promptly 3-putt (that last one was good) your way to a solid opening hole 8.  Play smarter, not harder.

The Oblivious:

Guess what, the later in the day it gets, the longer your shadow is.  Guess what else?  Get that shadow the hell out of my line.  Maybe it doesn’t bother you, but it bothers me.  If I wanted to deal with shadows, I’d hit my shots into the trees like you do.  Stepping in my line again?  I can forgive that once, because I understand reading a green is a foreign concept to you.  Rumor has it, that the slope of a green can affect the direction a ball rolls on the green, so, contrary to every putt you’ve ever hit in your life, they’re not all straight.  Stay the hell out of my line.  If you’re not sure, ask.  I won’t get mad, in fact, I’ll be happy you’re trying.  And after you figure out what my line is, how about using a coin to mark your ball.  Not a tee, not the little button from your golf glove (that you wear while putting), not a fucking poker chip, a coin.  You won’t lose it.  Unless it’s the size and texture of a blade of grass (most countries use some type of metal for coins), you’re not going to lose it.  With that covered, when I ask you to move your mark, don’t toss your entire putter on the ground and move your mark 3 feet the other direction.  Try the head of your putter, use an object in the distance as a reference point, and move it 3 inches one direction.  I’ll remind you to move it back, I promise.  And while I’m putting, feel free to answer that phone call, drop your putter, talk, sneeze, cough, laugh, or anything else you want to do because really, you’re the only one on the golf course, specifically that hole, so do as you please.  It’s your world, I’m just living in it.  Hey, don’t forget to move that mark back.

The Under-Achiever:

Go ahead, throw that club.  It’s the clubs fault, you did nothing wrong.  Your flawless golf swing and impeccable ball striking ability was hampered by that 6 iron getting in the way.  ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?!  HOW DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?!?!  I’VE NEVER DONE THAT BEFORE!!!  Sure.  I bet.  You’re not good, you’re not just having a bad day,  just stop.  I can tell by watching you swing the club, you’re not fooling me.  Ty Webb, of Caddyshack fame, said it best – “You’re not, you’re not good Al.  You stink.”  If you think you’re good enough to get mad about being bad, you should be playing for money.  Not a $5 nassau using your 12 handicap strokes, money that you use to pay your damned bills with.  You hit 1 reasonably good shot out of the 110 you had that day, you’re really gonna be surprised when 109 of those shots don’t get hit how you had drawn up in your head?  Get over it.  You complaining, explaining what you were TRYING to do with that shot, and being angry it didn’t come off as you wanted isn’t going to impress me.  In fact, it’s going to make me consider driving the cart into the nearest pond, after I tie your leg to the floorboard, of course.

The Parent:

I’m all for parents getting involved in their kids lives, especially on a golf course.  Golf is first and foremost a game, meant to be played and enjoyed by people of all ages.  Go walk a few holes with your kid, carry some kid clubs in your bag, let him or her swing at the ball till they’re tired of it.  Laugh with them, encourage them, let them know you’re proud of them.  It was fun when we were kids, why not create new and great memories with your child on the golf course.  I’ve spent years teaching groups of grade school kids the game of golf.  The most important part, I’ve found, is encouraging them when they make good contact with the ball, and their eyes light up when they realize what they’ve just done.  Most kids don’t swear, but the reaction I see is “holy shit, what the hell, I just bashed the living shit out of that ball!!”  I don’t see a lot of parent/child interaction on the golf course, but I see way too much of it on the driving range.  I recently was at the tail end of a lengthy practice session, about an hour before dark, when a dad and son walked up to the range to his some balls.  The kid wasn’t very old, couldn’t have been more than 7 years old.  “Great,” I thought to myself, “The dad is gonna let the kid hit some balls into the setting sun, just to see them fly.”  Wow, was I wrong.  For an hour, the father berated that child for not hitting perfect shot after perfect shot.  Shots that I considered well struck for a 7-year-old weren’t anywhere close to good enough for the father.  The last place that kid wanted to be, as it got very close to dark, was on that driving range being told the things he needed to do better.  Pushing your kid to be good at golf isn’t going to negate that fact that you never lived up to your perceived potential.  At the end of the day, for everyone but that kid that night, it’s still a game.

What’s the point of this rant?  Well, nothing really.  The game of golf I’m obsessed with, the game that consumes my life, the game that is my escape from the world, is increasingly invaded by morons.  I’m not saying I’m perfect, because everyone knows that can never be true.  I have my quirks and annoying habits, and those most likely aren’t going anywhere.  I like to think that those idiosyncrasies don’t show up on the golf course, and if they do, I keep them to myself.  But, chances are, I annoy you, and I’m adult enough to admit it.  After all, it’s your world, and I’m just living in it.  Take notes, someday perhaps you can use me for inspiration for an angry golf blog post.

*Editor’s note: Wow, Levi, didn’t take you long to use your new outlet for an indulgent rant. You truly are a blogger now. :)

Next post.

Hello. My Name is Levi, and I’m an Addict.

August 29, 2012 / / 7 Comments

Editor’s Note: I’m excited to announce the introduction of guest bloggers to The Golf Chick Golf Blog! This is the inaugural post, and I’m happy to present Levi Slings as our first alternate perspective. I love his first entry and am eager to have him start sharing even more of his thoughts here with us! Welcome, Levi, and thank you! 

Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEVI!

_________________________________________

I feel as though I should be sitting in a semi-circle, eating stale doughnuts, sipping on burnt lukewarm coffee, and staring at my shoes while I write this. Hello. My name is Levi and I’m an addict.

I’m addicted to the highs, I despise the lows. When the high wears off, I do everything imaginable, and some things once unthinkable, to regain those highs. I have no one to blame but myself. Golf has consumed my life. Hello. My name is Levi, and I’m an addict.

Let me introduce myself, hopefully that will put my addiction in perspective. I’m a 30 year old single guy, scratch golfer, hopelessly in love with the game of golf. I play competitively, (well, I enter tournaments anyway) and no matter the embarrassment and pain, I keep entering, and I keep fighting to make cuts. I’m addicted to what could be. I’m an amateur golfer, which means I play for pride and pride only. How I have any pride left is beyond me. I grew up playing golf, a father who ran a golf course, and a mother who was happy to let that course be my babysitter. I learned the game on the fly. I’ve never had a formal lesson, as a child of the course, I had 2 goals… play as many holes as I could each day, and get the ball into the hole in as few shots as possible. Looking back, this is where it all went wrong. Ask me today what I’d like to spend each and every day doing, my answer will be the same. As many holes as I can play in as few shots as possible. Hello. My name is Levi, and I’m an addict.

The game of golf has destroyed my body, my relationships, and any other activity that threatened to become a hobby. I own a fishing pole, a tennis racket, a motorcycle, hell, I even own a lawnmower. Ask me when I last used any of those things? Nice enough outside to fish…nice enough to golf. I’d go for a motorcycle ride, but what if I come across a golf course I’ve never seen, and want to play it? It takes 30 minutes to mow my yard…how many practice putts can I make in a half hour? For the past 6 years, I endured crippling lower back pain, especially during golf. Did this ever stop me? Hell no. Last October I finally underwent surgery, and while it was an overwhelming success, it allowed me to play unlimited pain-free golf again. So was it really a success? Hello. My name is Levi, and I’m an addict.

Levi Slings GolfI’m not one to brag, I certainly don’t feel worthy of the attention. But, for perspective, in the past week, my scores have ranged from 67 to 83, on the same damned par 72 golf course. Unfortunately, both ends of that spectrum make me want to play more. What the hell is wrong with me? A few weeks ago, I even attempted to go on a date. It was planned that I’d pick her up at 7pm. That left me just enough time to play a few holes at my club. Birdie. Par. Birdie. Birdie. Birdie. Oh crap… I’m 4 under thru 5, and I’ve gotta pick this girl up in a little while. I figured I could get through 6 holes and have to leave. Then, the Golf Gods smiled on me. I got a text saying she was running late; let’s plan for 7:30. I’VE GOT TIME FOR MORE GOLF!!! Par. Birdie. -5 thru 7. I’ve never shot in the 20s, and 29 was in sight. 2 years ago, I played with a buddy who shot 30-32 to set the course record. That’s some rarified air, and I was bumping up against that ceiling. I played my heart out, but could only muster 2 pars coming in, for a 5 under par 31. In an extremely uncharacteristic moment of clarity, I never once considered playing the back 9 to go for that course record, because I had a date. My focus certainly wasn’t on the date later that night. Needless to say, there wasn’t a second date, and I’ll have to live with that regret the rest of my life. Regret that I didn’t put enough effort into that date to see what could have been? Hell no. Regret that I didn’t ditch her ass and play the back 9. Hello. My name is Levi, and I’m an addict.

My weekly playing partners range from multiple time Tour winners, fledgling pros, nationally ranked amateurs, guys like me chasing cuts, lifetime bogey golfers, guys who broke 100 once, beginners, and every possible iteration of golfers in between. Every single one of us is chasing the same thing, and for some reason, we never quit. We chase that little white ball around like our lives depend on it. Really, what are we chasing? Chasing the feeling of a perfectly executed shot? Chasing the reward of signing the card that proves our personal best round? Chasing happiness, clarity, diversion, solitude, anger, confusion, stress, or joy? I, for one, am chasing every single one of those things. I’m guessing we all are. I’m going to keep playing, keep entering tournaments, keep risking embarrassment, keep chasing those feelings…. at all costs. Hello. My name is Levi, and I’m an addict.

___________________________________

Another editor’s note: WELCOME, LEVI! Here’s your first day chip! We’re not anonymous, we are identified. We’ll talk about golf to anyone who will listen. We’re addicts and our golf tans are badges of honor. Happy to know you.

One shot at a time. Keep coming back!

 Golfers Identified first day chip

 

Next post. 

MENU

© 2024 The Golfchick

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑