The Golfchick

That chick blabbing about anything golf related.

Month: August 2006

My theory on Tiger Woods – you heard it here first

No human being can play golf that well so consistently. The kind of domination Tiger Woods wields over everyone in the world who plays golf requires a mental consistency of which no human being is capable. Therefore, Tiger Woods is not human. So what is he? Well, I have a few theories and stay with me because they kind of blend into each other. They are:

A. Tiger Woods is a robot
B. Tiger Woods is an alien
C. Tiger Woods is a changeling

First, you know we common folk aren’t aware of the truly cutting edge technology that exists and prototype testing that goes on in secret. Tiger could be the product of the uber-private robotics industry. This could either be done in the private sector or by a major government power. Given that he is an American, probably the United States government. I don’t see another country’s government just handing us a winner like that even if it meant a better cover.

Second, you know we are not alone. Not only in the universe, but here on Earth. Exhibit A: The praying mantis. A friend recently pointed out to me that they are, of course, actually aliens and I completely agree. Look at their cool demeanor and the way they observe the world and indeed, you. Look at the way they control their numbers on Earth in order to remain inconspicuous until they decide to take over: the females bite the heads off of the males after mating. I think they know that the human form has the greatest advantage over other species on the planet and they will take the form of humans once we have killed ourselves off with our stupidity. Tiger might just be their prototype. That’s where the third theory comes in and the blending begins.

Perhaps the aliens are capable of a changeling type of metamorphosis.

Is this what Tiger looked like before the change?

“Achieving trust is always the final step with a change.” – Tiger Woods
Maybe deep down, he wasn’t talking about his swing.

More than likely, their evolution is so far beyond our own that we couldn’t even comprehend the kind of mental discipline, intelligence and physical power they possess. Maybe they didn’t want to “waste” one of their own by experimenting with the form of a human. Instead, they developed a robotic simulation of themselves for the test. I guess the simplistic human equivalent would be like sending a monkey into space before a human.

How about when he doesn’t win?

If Tiger ever has a bad hole, four in a row, comes in second in a tournament or even misses a cut, you can bet it’s by design. They don’t want to blow their cover. It’s just that their little experiment has his own highly involved intelligence center (way beyond our simple brains). He’s fully capable of winning every tournament every time and they let him dominate the sport but he’s gotta make it look good. Lately, I think he disobeyed some of his orders and is drawing too much attention to himself. I wonder if they’ll rein him in a bit.

But he’s so emotional!

Oh, and what about that emotional display at the British Open? Was that some kind of flaw in the dominant mental system? Not at all. He became attached to his earthly father and probably has some true feelings there, but I think he never would have expressed them. The superiors were looking for a way to make him appear more human, so after his “father” died, they had him miss a cut and then activated his emotion chip on the 18th hole at the Open. I wonder if his earth family and Steve Williams are the biggest victims of the deception or if the aliens are using some kind of mind control in order to let them in on it.

Why Tiger?

Okay, so why would they choose to do this with a golfer? Easy. They wanted it to be an athletic figure so they could test the physical capabilities of the human body. They wanted him to be a public figure because it’s just fun to bamboozle so many people. Of the sports, golf is the most mentally challenging. But most importantly, it’s the sport with the most nature around so the mantis can observe unobtrusively. I’d like to see some of that nose-hair zoom camera work at the next PGA event focusing on the mantis leader.

So, there you have it. Tiger Woods is a robotic changeling alien. You heard it here first.

Photos courtesy Erich Mangl.

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It’s my golf-i-versary!

Happy two years to me!

Not to be confused with a golf blog-i-versary. Exactly two years ago today, I took up golf.
When I passed the one year mark, I officially declared that I was no longer a beginner. Now? I’m just another mediocre golfer. Yay, me!

Just thought I’d throw in this random photo of a golf dog I spotted at Mountain View awhile back. Check out the cool convertible rides. Two of my favorite things – golf and dogs!

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Happy Place Revealed

A few weeks ago, I posted a teaser about my new “happy place.” Since then, I’ve had cause to visit it in my head many times.

Update: 10/04/06 – I have posted a short video of the back nine here. (If you’re following along in the “golfchick chronicles” links, be aware this skips ahead.)


I have been reluctant to post about it here because I’d love to get a story about it sold to an actual printed golf publication, and I know how they are about exclusivity rights. But I realize I’ve been leaving you hanging for too long now and besides, I’m not going to write here what I’d sell to them anyway.

¿Cómo se dice “distracting”?

A few weeks ago, I was very fortunate to have been invited to be among the first to play the brand new Jack Nicklaus signature golf course, Punta Espada. It is on the very eastern tip of the Dominican Republic in a development called Cap Cana. It is the first of three planned Jack Nicklaus courses that will be built there.When I went, only the back nine were open but I got a “backstage tour” from the pro there, Mark Clouse. He played the back nine with me a couple times and took me on a tour of the front nine and the clubhouse inner workings during its construction. It was an experience I will never forget.

I got soaked on this hole while standing over by the side of the green waiting for my playing partner, Mike (the time I played without Mark) to hit up from just off the green. Another foot and he’d have been in the water. A wave came up and soaked me, Mike and our caddie, Armando. It felt great!

Hands down, this is the nicest course I’ve ever played and possibly ever will play. Many of the holes on the back nine are played right on or over the Caribbean Sea and the rest of them have amazing views of it. Not just a sliver viewed from atop the very back tees.

Happy opening!

Yesterday, the front nine opened. I’m dying to go back and play the rest of the course. The front nine has some holes I’d love to get my clubs on with equally as stunning views and strategies required as the back nine. The grand opening with Jack Nicklaus is scheduled for November 7.

Word of caution: if you want to play this golf course (and anyone reading this site should), do it soon. When they open the next golf course (end of 2007), Punta Espada will be entirely private. And no, you can’t just go buy a membership there. You must purchase some of the amazing property there to even be eligible for a membership and they only have about 100 memberships left to sell. They are going to keep the membership number LOW.

For more information, see their website at www.capcana.com.

If you’re from a golf publication and would like a story on this golf course (and I have many, many more photographs), contact me at thegolfchick@gmail.com.

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I have bad news and I have good news (and bad news and good news and bad… )

Which do you want first?

Okay, the bad news:

I went to the range Friday night before the tournament to see if I could swing a golf club. I could, but I was being so cautious with my back that I was swinging with all arms which caused disastrous results with the golf ball. I took about 20 swings and had to call it quits. I almost cried on the way home, but there’s no crying in golf. My pain increased throughout the night, possibly due to the exertion and I had a difficult time sleeping. I woke up on Saturday thinking there was no way I could possibly play golf.

The good news:

I went to the chiropractor as scheduled Saturday morning before the tournament. Even though I had to report a flare-up and backwards progress, I received my treatment which felt good. He followed that up with an amazingly positive attitude and when I told him I didn’t think I could play, he actually prescribed golf for therapy. He said “if you go home and lie around feeling lousy, that becomes your new condition.” He told me I need to get out there and continue to do what I do and that golf is good exercise for my back right now. He didn’t know the stakes of the round, but suggested that I just go out and try and get through as many holes as I could.

The bad news:

I revealed my condition to the board and asked if I could get consideration to reschedule my match. My competitor is on the board, so the cat was out of the bag.

The good news:

They granted me the continuance. I went out to play as much of the round anyway as my doctor “prescribed.” I didn’t waste any swings warming up since I wasn’t competing. I teed off first and hooked my first shot left into the trees but was in bounds and kind of playable. It hurt but I survived it. I was deep in thought as the rest of the foursome teed off. My would-be opponent hit a great tee shot well beyond mine and in the fairway. It occurred to me that it was lame and weak to be out there playing the round but pussying out of the match. After all, a lot of these guys are older men who play hurt nearly every time. After watching his great tee shot, I said “let’s play it.” He said “Are you sure? You don’t have to, but if we start, we finish.” I said “if I don’t finish, you win.” Game on.

The bad news:

I lost.

The good news:

I finished. I powered through it, and played pretty well considering. Actually, it would have been a pretty good round for a healthy me, and I was proud of that because of the pain I endured. But pretty good was not good enough. My opponent played a great round and earned the win. Under normal circumstances, it’s hard to say if the result would have been the same. I tend to think not, since I am a fierce competitor, but we’ll never know. What felt worse than swinging the club was teeing up and retrieving the ball from the cup, and the WORST was riding in the golf cart. I stood and walked as much as possible. Hitting out of the sand was the hardest of the swings and was usually followed with ginger swings which produced terrible results. I gave away a lot of strokes by taking swings trying to baby my back.

The rundown

I really battled on the front nine. I got three strokes on that side and used them well. After losing the 1st hole, we halved the 2nd (where I got a stroke) when I bogey’d and he par’d. One down. 3rd hole, we both bogey’d. Still one down. 4th hole, we both bogey’d but I got a stroke. All square. 5th hole, he bogeys, I double. Back to one down. 6th hole, I par, he doubles. All square. 7th hole, we both bogey but I get a stroke. One up. 8th hole, I bogey, he pars. All square. 9th hole, we both bogey. All square after nine.

At the turn, I used the privacy of the restroom to let out some of the winces and pained facial expressions I’d been suppressing. The soreness and fatigue were really wearing on me and I was amazed I was even giving this guy a run for his money. That was my downfall. Under normal competitive circumstances, such weakness in attitude doesn’t exist.

I got two strokes on the back nine and knew I had to start making some solid pars but instead of feeling the exhilaration of the challenge, I felt like it was an uphill battle at this point. 10th hole, he bogeys and I triple! One down. 11th hole, he pars and I double. I got a stroke on this hole and gave it away in the middle of the fairway. I still could have halved it on the green but missed a make-able 2nd putt. Doubt and lack of confidence had crept in. Two down. 12th hole, we both bogey, still two down. 13th hole, we both bogey, still two down. 14th hole, he pars, I bogey. Three down, four to go. 15th hole, I got a stroke but the exact same thing happened as on the 11th. I gave one away on the fairway and one on the green. He pars and I double. Match over. I finished the round with double, par, par. I was disappointed in the loss (my first match loss) and the mental weakness that caused it. But I was proud of my physical effort and courage to do battle.

The bad news:

I’m feeling the repercussions of all the strain I put on my back yesterday.

The good news:

Underneath the tenderness, I feel like it’s getting better and when the soreness from overuse subsides I’ll be well on my way back to normal. I’m continuing my stretches and have more follow up visits to the chiropractor scheduled.

More good news:

Greg won his match and advanced to the A-flight championship next month. (Incidentally, he played a worse round than I did, relatively speaking – he shot a net 76 and I shot a net 71.)

The bad news:

It won’t be me he faces. (Don’t think for a second I won’t be secretly keeping track at the next tournament to see who would win if we were playing each other.)

The mixed feelings news:

After the round, the board invited me to join them as Secretary. It took them about a half hour of persuading me before I caved in and accepted. I know they just want some sucker to fulfill those duties (mainly writing to keep members informed and promoting to recruit new members). I also know I’m pretty busy right now and don’t need more unpaid responsibility. However, as the only female member of the club, I was impressed they were willing to have a female on the board with voting power.

I think they were impressed with the way I handled the match situation. In fact, at the 19th hole, I noticed a marked difference in attitudes toward me from the members as well. It could just be that they were happy I got beat, but it also felt like an increase in respect. Too bad my decision to play came on the first tee, though. I bet that thwarted a lot of wagering that would have taken place had they known the match was on.

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Against my better judgment, but I gotta try something

I have always been leery of chiropractors. It’s not that I don’t believe in alternative or therapeutic care. I just get this paranoid feeling like while they’re working on you they’re going to do something to make sure that you have to keep coming back. I’m sure they’re not all like that, but how does one go about finding a good one?

Mom pleaded with me to go see one and told me her doctor fixed her right up when she had a similar back injury; that she felt immediately better. With my upcoming tournament and a desperate feeling (and to appease my loving mother), I found one just blocks from my home and I went. He performed electrical muscle stimulation, ultrasound and gave me what they call an “adjustment.” After the endorphin rush of that last treatment, I did feel markedly better, but it didn’t last. I was back to the pain and not being able to get comfortable in any position soon enough. However, unlike the night before, I was able to sleep through it.

This morning I’m feeling well enough to at least sit here and type, so that’s progress. I’m sitting up straighter than ever before, so maybe something good will come of this whole mess. I’m going back for another treatment this afternoon and again tomorrow morning before I attempt to play golf. He urged me not to play but said he would do all he could to make me feel well enough to try if I insisted.

Meanwhile, I’m amazed at all the little things I took for granted before the pain. Wiping my ass, for example. Or physically helping my 11 year old Great Dane up the stairs. We must look like a couple of old grannies out on our walks. Standing and walking are the least uncomfortable things I can do, but I know I must look like there’s something lodged up my aforementioned ass as I cautiously take my steps.

If I can swing a club and end up playing tomorrow, I think I’ll invite someone in my foursome (not my competitor) in on my secret. Maybe have him slyly retrieve my golf ball from the cup after I sink it. Surprisingly, squatting doesn’t hurt that much, but I’ve tried the move with the reach for the ball and it will look awkward at best. I don’t want my competition to know that I’m struggling. With a secret helper, I might be able to pull it off. That is, if I can even swing.

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I screwed up my back

Crap – what now?

It’s immensely painful to just sit in this chair and type. I will make this very short.

Our club championship is determined based on a match play bracket. I have won two matches and the two players who win the next matches play each other for the flight championships. Then the flight champions play against each other for the club championship. I am the reigning club champ. The next match is this Saturday. If I can’t play, I forfeit. That sucks.

What makes it even more interesting is that if I win my next match and Greg also wins his, we go up against each other for the flight championship. I really need to be able to play this one to try to get there.

If anyone has any ideas for a winning self medication prescription, I’m listening.

Please, help…

Kristen

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Ask the Goose – question from “Chuck”

Chuck from Woodland Hills, CA submitted this question:

Dear Goose,
My name is Chuck and I am a very handsome black and white cat. (Note I didn’t say kitty, that’s for pussies!) Anyway, I have a major problem with my parents! I know they love me but they keep leaving me!!! And it makes me so mad just cause they want to go have some fun. Hey — aren’t I fun enough??

Well, the problem is that when they get back, the way I show them I’m unhappy with them I think just might cost me my life!! You see, I peed on my Dad’s shorts and peed on my Mom! Yep — you read that correctly — I peed ON her!

My Dad just took me to the vet to get checked out and do you know what the vet had the unmitigated gall to say? That I had a small kitty brain and what did they expect from me?!!!! Can you even believe it? I AM appalled.

Well Goose — do you have any suggestions for how I can show my displeasure with my parents when they take off for places unknown and just abandon me at home ALONE? I think my Mom can probably handle it but it’s my Dad I’m worried about. Should I go back to throwing up on the carpet or bringing them a dead rat? What’s a cat to do?! Anxiously awaiting you’re response with bait on my breath!

Fondly, Chuck
PS (Love the golf blog!)

Dear Bait,

What the hell is wrong with cats? As you mentioned at the end, this is a golf blog! My mom didn’t want me to post a response to this!

You call yourself a cat but you are truly a pussy. I never understood the stupid kitty brain anyway. When my mom goes out to play golf or leaves me for any other reason, I get upset but I get over it right away! Live for the NOW, you moron. You may have nine lives, but your time here is still too short to be spending it all stressed out. Frickin whiner!

Sure, sometimes I get bored and go through the trash or other fun things while she’s gone. Today I’m trying something new – posting a response on her blog to a dumb cat. She might remove it when she finds out. Anyway, when she gets home she’s all “disappointed” in me and I act remorseful for a little while and then the loving returns.

Throwing up on the carpet – now that I can relate to! Sure, do that! Or if you like rats, show them how you missed them by presenting one to them when they return. Maybe put it on the dining room table or on a pillow in bed. Just have your fun, take lots of naps and keep busy while they’re gone. Whatever you do, don’t try to punish them once they’re HOME, you idiot. Don’t you know that just extends your own misery? Why do you want them home so much if you’re not going to enjoy it?

Frickin stupid kitties. You’re lucky they haven’t woofenized you yet. Speaking of that, tell your mom and dad I’d be happy to provide a private one-on-one training session for you.

The Goose Kitty Project: I’m so scared!

Your doctor is right about your small kitty brain. That’s why cats get nine lives, by the way, because they’re so dumb. I’m surprised you haven’t used all yours up by now by sticking your paw in a socket or shredding yourself in the garbage disposal and other stupid cat stuff. Maybe you’ll get what you deserve and they’ll go all new age on you and put you on some kind of pussy anti-depressant.

Good luck,

The Goose

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Reader question – golfer slang

Mike from Philadelphia submitted this question (to me, not the Goose):

Someone was telling me that there are different types of golfers such as Golf freaks, trunk slammers, and club members. I was trying to get a good definition for each but I couldn’t find much on the internet because it appears some of these terms are slang. I was wondering if you’ve ever heard these terms used a lot and if you have an idea how you would define these terms.

Mike figured out that these terms are slang right away. Good job, Mike. Aside from “golf freak,” I have never actually heard these terms used, but I won’t let that stop me from answering the question and defining the terms here and now.

Golf Freak(glf frk), n.

1: A golfer that is markedly unusual or deformed; (see circus freak)
2: A person who is so utterly devoted or addicted to the game of golf that he or she plays as often as possible, can’t get enough gear or knowledge of all things golf, constantly talks about golf and proselytizes; (see Jesus freak, golf blogger)
3: A combination of 1 and 2 (see photo insert)

Mediaeagle, the golf freak
photo courtesy www.eatgolf.com

Trunk slammer (trngk slmr), n.

1: A person who slams the trunk of a car
2: An occasional golfer not overly concerned with rules, etiquette, or his or her equipment (they park their cars, grab their gear, slam their trunks and off they go)

Club member (klb mmbr), n.

1: A member of a club
2: A golfer belonging to a private country club
3: slang A golfer of limited ability belonging to a private country club who looks down on non-members and trunk slammers (see pompous, snob, Judge Smails) and expects to get the “members bounce” even when playing an alternate course

Thanks for the question, Mike. I hope this helps.

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