Mine stinks. Unless there is something remarkable about the hole – like how it looks or how I or someone in my group plays it – I generally don’t remember it until I’ve been there at least a handful of times.
Sometimes I don’t even remember entire golf courses! For example, I was visiting my family in south OC over the holidays. We got a foursome together to play the only course around that could give us a tee time at such short notice. Oh, we probably could have gotten on at one of the more ritzy and spendy courses but two of our players (Mom and my Faunt – that’s faux aunt if you were wondering) were beginners and we were just going to play a fun scramble so we weren’t going to break the bank on this outing. Our fourth player is a good friend and neighbor and has some skills even if he doesn’t use them all that often.
We chose to play Shorecliffs in San Clemente and I was pretty sure I had played there before. Sounded familiar, anyway. And I thought I remembered seeing it on my list of courses played. I checked out their website, which doesn’t say much but I found another site that mentions the narrow fairways and small greens (as well as it being Richard Nixon’s home course). You’d think that would help stir my memory. Incidentally, I’ve seen some great websites by Cybergolf, and I don’t know how long they’ve had the contract for Pacific Golf Enterprises, but they really need to add some more content there!
Anyway, even as we were driving to the golf course, I was wracking my brain to recollect whether or not I’d played there before. I could vaguely remember going there before because I think we took a wrong turn or something. Then it happened. I pulled into the parking lot and I vividly recalled one of the golf holes there! The 19th, to be specific. Yes, I remembered the people we met and even some of our conversations. I even know we talked about our respective rounds that day, just not the details to help me remember the course. I remembered the grizzly-but-fuzzy-underneath bartender. I remembered the practice green & range, the layout of the bar and restaurant and how it connected to the golf shop. But I still couldn’t remember the golf course.
Here’s a photo of one of the golf holes at Shorecliffs I found on the site I mentioned above. This is an example of a hole I remember when I see it because of what happened there. And probably only because it happened so recently. Obviously, it’s really narrow up there but it also slopes severely to the left. Since we were playing a scramble format, we chose the “best ball” off the tee for our second shots. On this hole, that happened to be mine, but it wasn’t ideal, either. I actually hit it on the right side and thought it was going to be good but it rolled all the way down to the left and wound up in the far end of that waste bunker. That, I remember. But I still couldn’t tell you what hole number this is. I see the bluff on the left and recall there were some homes in danger of coming down with a landslide where it gets steeper up by the tees. Seems like I read somewhere they had landslide damage on #6, so maybe that’s it. Oh dear, and it’s supposed to rain a lot starting tonight. I hope they’re braced if not moved out. There I go on another tangent… demonstrating how we remember that which we observe most.
What do I observe?
Actually, my recall of most golf courses often revolves around the 19th hole, the pro shop and the practice facilities. When I try to remember a golf course, that’s where I start and try to work my way out from there. So many golf holes just seem to blend together. I do tend to recall them once I’m standing on the tee again but I sure wish it went beyond that. Is it because my golf mind is inexperienced? I don’t think so. I’ve played with guys who have about the same level of experience and they remember where the trouble is on a particular hole or what the ideal position is on the fairway. Maybe it’s because I played so many courses in such a short amount of time in my “formative” golf years. I don’t know.
Maybe my golf game would be better if I observed more like Greg
Greg’s golf memory astounds me. He doesn’t just remember the types of things I mentioned above – oh no. He knows them all by hole number, location and what we both shot there. Usually each shot, as well. And he doesn’t even have to be at the course to do it, either. We could be at a gathering talking about golf and he could describe any course he’s played, hole by hole. A guy could be talking about a round he played at a random course and the one hole that destroyed his score and just as he begins to describe the hole, Greg will light up and say something like “oh yeah, number 7, the par 4 with the elephant grass along the right… you gotta stay left off the tee and then don’t be long on your next shot or you’ll have tree trouble if the bunker doesn’t catch you…”
Don’t get me wrong. I actually enjoy the way my mind works. It can be frustrating but it’s also fun. I just think my golf game might improve if I had better recall of golf holes. Maybe this year I’ll work on paying more attention to holes, shots and trying to store those thoughts. The trick will be remembering to try.
How’s your golf hole memory?
A week or so ago I put up what I thought was an 
Look at this darling dog. He is an Australian Shepherd and was stolen from Moanalua Golf Club in Honolulu, HI as retired musician Frank Manumo played golf there.
AND – the people accused of this terrible crime were maintenance workers at the golf course. They have been fired. Here’s the kicker: they have been arrested for felony theft. THEFT? That’s ALL?!?!? Sure, they stole him, but then they KILLED him!
I can see it now: Clemens throws a 98 mph heater (okay, make that 91) that sails by Miguel Tejada, who doesn’t even flinch. It was a close one, and the crowd goes quiet for a moment. Clemens shrugs and says “Nah, I missed it. That was a hair inside.” Tejada says “No way, man. You got me there.” They begin to argue, each one wanting to give up a call to the other side to gain the fans’ trust and the situation escalates into an all-out, bench clearing, steroid-rage-filled brawl. When the dust settles and several players are rushed to the hospital, eight of the men left standing eject themselves from the game for fighting and the skeleton crew left on the field tries it all again.
I’m pretty sure he meant while you’re holding the golf club and to do it with the sides of your arms. Not quite as titillating but probably more effective that way. I haven’t tried it yet but you know I will. I also don’t know if he was actually speaking to just the females or maybe there were some man-boobs in the crowd. Perhaps it’s just the motion of putting your upper arms closer together and keeping them there that works, so it really might work for anyone.
I can’t even beat Annika in my dreams!
I often dream about golf. Don’t we all?
Last night’s dream was exhilarating and frustrating at the same time. Apparently, I’m an underachiever when I’m sleeping.
The first part was imaginative and ambitious in that I was a good enough golfer to even be competing with Annika Sorenstam in the first place. I wasn’t a pro, but we were playing against each other in some kind of exhibition match.
We were down to the 18th hole and I had a real chance to win. Annika was already on the green (ha – I guess I outdrove her) so I needed to stick one close. My approach shot went long and ended up in a really tricky lie in a strange tuft of grass behind the green. I didn’t have any bunkers to deal with and I had plenty of green to use, but the lie was unpredictable. I needed to hole it out to secure a win or put it in tap-in distance and hope she missed her putt to push a tie-breaker. I ran it by about 15 feet. She missed her first putt and finished off with par. Now I had to make this putt to force the playoff.
Here’s where it gets psychologically interesting.
When I woke up I was terribly disappointed in myself for letting my mind concede and not winning. Go figure.
But thanks for the game, Annika.
Next post.