I spent the last 10 of my first 12 years living next door to the Ocean View Municipal Golf Course in Norfolk, Virginia. The key is shooting straight from the first tee and hitting the green in regulation.Īlthough I have been golfing for only four years, I am not totally new to the game. I have learned the terms of golf and I can now drive well at the range when loading up the tee from bucket number two. I know which club to use based on distance from the pin. My playing companions seem to have a higher opinion of my game than I do. Once on the green, I can putt the ball decently. On occasion, however, I have hit the green on a par-five hole in two if I aim right. It's just too bad that the crapless ball tends to go left. I can take a fairway wood or a hybrid and knock the crap out of the ball. So in comparison, my swing must look like my driver is falling off the back of a moving truck. An octopus has some coordination, some fluidity, and some intelligence. So far, not much has helped.ĭavid Feherty said that Jim Furyk’s driver swing looks like an octopus falling out of a tree. I watch training videos and take advice from all the guys I play with. I blow through buckets of balls at the Portsmouth City Park Links driving range. I shine my clubs thinking that will add some polish to my game. On the rare occasion that I don’t slice, it is usually because I skull the ball and stick it in the mix of marsh grass, blackberry bushes, and cattails that surround the course. I joke that my slice is so bad that a soft drink is named after it. As a result, my hands are pointing in the wrong direction, which opens the club face and I hit this very long and ugly slice. I just can’t leave my 1 wood in the bag! I have a very fast back swing and an even faster down swing, but somewhere in the process of going up and down, my arms just seem to get confused. I tend to lose balls off the first tee into the river on the right side. It sits at the elbow of the Elizabeth River and so it is surrounded by water on two sides and a driving range on one side. Lambert’s Point is a nine-hole golf course in Norfolk, Virginia, that is built on top of what used to be a huge landfill and garbage dump. I am an active member of the Lambert’s Point Golf Course Ball Exchange Program. Someone once said that if I hit it right, it’s a slice if I hit it left, it’s a hook if I hit it straight it’s a miracle. I cannot drive worth the time it takes me to hunt for a lost cheap ball. Put me on a large course with big greens, and the story changes. In other words, my short game is not bad. The greens are the size of pot holders, the fairways narrow as a 1960s-era men’s dress tie, and there are numerous hidden water traps along with some that are obvious to the eye. Well, it isn’t all that remarkable considering it is a nine-hole pitch and putt with the longest hole sitting a mere 125 yards from the tee. When I play 18 holes on my “ second home course” at Deer Creek Motorcoach resort (the one in Virginia), my score can be as low as 54.įIFTY FOUR! Wow, you say. Now, in fairness to myself, that score was the result of a round of golf on a regular-size course. My best game so far is a round in the high 80s. I guess that means that golf is my new stupid passion. It may be a stupid game, an opinion shared by David Feherty, who played on the European Ryder Cup team a few decades ago, but it is also my new passion. Someone else said it is a lot of walking, broken up by disappointment and bad arithmetic. Mark Twain described it as a good walk spoiled. Seems that with the above lead in I can smoothly move this old entry from my blog at to here: I really would like a chance one day just to take a whack at hole 17. It ended up being one of the best ends to a four-day match that I have ever seen. I thought I would be spending just a few minutes on the couch seeing young men do something really well that I, on very rare occasions, also do well.hit a golf ball. After everyone left I smartly cleaned up the kitchen and then settled down to watch the Player's Championship at TPC Sawgrass on the telly. We had brunch, took pictures or should I say tried to take pictures because the photographer (so-called) neglected to insert the memory card back into his expensive camera. Joel provided another card and three bags of gourmet coffee beans, which Diane really loved. Christine made a tulip and French toast casserole delivery (the tulips were live in a vase). I provided more live tulips (great minds think alike) and a card with a photograph of tulips on the front. Joel, Ashley, Christine and her kids were here.
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