putter-on

stray golfer

My mom called me early yesterday to see I would be interested in going out for my first full 18 holes. They had a tee time for around noon, but since I had to be at work by 3:00 I was unable to go out with my parents. I showered and cleaned up then headed over to my parents’ house to do some laundry. I have facilities in my complex, but my roommate always complains about how they don’t work, so I use my parents’ and I like the added bonus of being able to leave my clothes unattended. I have this huge fear of someone stealing my clothes if I put them in downstairs and run up for a bit. No thanks, I’d rather make a trip to good ol’ mom and dad’s, eat their food, watch their tv and enjoy myself during the hours laundry takes. Anyways, since I got a late start I figured I wouldn’t have time to drop off clothes, go to the driving range, put clothes into the dryer and then head out for a few holes. So I decided so hit whiffle balls in the back and watch tv while I waited.

After I transferred my clothes to the dryer I headed out to the course and began my first solo round. The first hole was promising. I usually do pretty well on the driving range and then terrible on the actual course. I can’t decide whether it’s nerves or me rushing myself or stage fright, but something was definitely different this time. I crushed my first shot from the tee box. It went an ideal height, distance and it landed about 50 yards shy of the green in the center of the fairway. Whoa. 

Again, another great tee shot on the second hole, a par 3. I landed a 7-iron shot onto the green about 20 yards from the flagstick. This course has terribly hairy greens and I had to putt an extra stroke. My home course has the best greens, fast and manicured. The course I was playing on was hairy, slow and spotted with bald patches. Still dwelling on my happy tee shot I took the extra stroke and headed towards the next hole.

I set up, hit my 3-wood and swung. It felt good, it sounded good but my long hair had to fall in my face and prevent my from seeing where the ball went. I walked up the left side of the fairway (I always hit left on this hole) in search of my pretty new Volvik crystal pink golf ball. No luck. I dropped a ball, took the penalty and made my shot. It landed to the right of the green near a bunker. Too stubborn to forfeit a stroke AND a ball I turned around in circles in search for my misfired ball. Still nothing. Feeling like an idiot for not being able to find my ball I finally gave up and went to make my next shot. Now, where is this one? I had seen where this one landed, but it was no longer there, in the bunker, or in the surrounding area. Well this is nice.

I’ve heard my parents talking about golf gophers stealing balls. I always just laughed and took it as a “barking spider” or “it was the dog” sort of scenario. I figured one was to blame gophers for a mishit. Well there I was, in the spot where I’d seen my ball land and sure enough it was not there. Hm. This is strange. I dropped another ball and finished the hole. As I walked to the next hole I looked all over for the ball - nothing. Well okay then.

I played the next few holes pretty well, and without further ball loss, and then I caught up with an older couple playing ahead of me. They asked if I wanted to join them and I laughed, said I wasn’t good. The man said they weren’t great either and that I could play with them. I always say no and then don’t understand why I did. I pass up a lot of opportunities and I’ve recently noticed this. After realizing there was no reason not to play with them, despite poor performance, I went ahead and accepted their invitation.

We played the last four holes together and my performance was mixed. Where I really died was on the green; I’m so used to the beautiful one at my home course that I’m not very good at adjusting to poorer conditions. I had two hit into bunkers and one required two hits to get out and the other took only one, landing near enough to the hold to make me look like I somewhat know what’s going on.

On our final hole the man hit, water hazard. The woman hit, she fell short. I hit, 5 yards from the green. As the man spent the next 5 minutes with an iron in the water the woman took her next shot. Unsure of whether to follow this bad etiquette and take my next shot I decided to wait. He dropped a ball and made a shot. By their second hits they were no nearer to the pin than I. I don’t enjoy when others don’t do well, but it felt nice to not be dead last for once. I chipped up then made a respectable putt for par. It was a nice end to an interesting round. I have yet to tally my score. I don’t feel comfortable doing that yet. I will though, just so I can see if there’s any progress.

I do feel that I am more able to golf well when I’m alone. The reasons are purely psychological, so at least there’s something I can work on as opposed to just being all-around terrible. I may just need to slow down a bit. Time will tell.

Oh, and work was more of the same. Two or three more managers got axed and two of our are transferring. We knew one was going to fill in a gap where there was a “let go” but the other was news. So much movement, it’s exciting and a little unnerving. Such drastic change can wreak havoc on the company. There were some terminations that I have no issue with, but I also think it’s hard to run a company well with a team of all new people. I prefer movement within the company because those types of people are familiar with the company’s standards, norms and goals. I think a fresh face is good every now and again, but they’re to the point that there will be a LOT of fresh faces. If those hires prove to be unworthy candidates our company can be put in a potentially bad situation. I’m not worried to the point that I’m going to seek other employment or do anything dramatic, I think being aware of possible issues are a good way to deal with them, a sort of proactive measure. By seeing an issue early on one can avoid the stress or initial shock. It’ll also give me a chance to come up with solutions and plans for action beforehand instead of improvising and making a bad choice. Yes, I’m a worrywart.