Whacked at Golf
My fingers are aching as I type these words right now. No, it wasn't from dialing all the numbers in Paris Hilton's hacked sidekick. I did something today that I haven't done in a long time.
I took a few whacks at a golf ball.
It must be close to 15 years since I've been in a driving range and swung at a few. And it feels like it too. I now have more respect for Golf players. You might think its just walking and swinging but let me tell you, it's hard as hell.
I got an invite from a buddy at work to go to the local driving range. They had a winter promo going where you pay once and hit as many balls as you can stand. Or until you hit someone else. Then they'll kick you out. Anyway, I was a bit hesitant since I haven't played in awhile and the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself. That led to this exchange:
Me: I haven't played in awhile. My swing is terrible.
Nick: Yeah you and half the people that are there.
Pretty convincing. Why not, I thought. Never been a big fan but I do enjoy watching. The pro's make it look so easy hitting a tiny round ball 300 yards. Might be fun. At the very least, it makes for a good blog entry.
So I get to the range after work and start off with a 9 iron. My very first swing felt awkward and uncomfortable. Like bending over backwards. That's what happens when you try to hit it halfway accross the pacific on your first try. Naturally it went 5 feet out, with a few mercy bounces. Hey at least I actually hit the damn thing. After a couple more swings, (and a few airballs) I finally got it up. Up and right. Not bad. I've seen the pro's hook it a couple of times. Not with a 9 iron but still. A few tips from my buddy on my swing and I think I got the hang of it. So, I decided to move up to a 6 Iron. That led to this exchange.
Me: I feel good. Let me try a 6.
Nick: That is a 6.
Am I that good? Probably not but I have officialy made an idiot of myself. Which was proven to be true since I didn't get to hit a good one afterwards. Meanwhile, My legs were starting to ache from all the twisting and turning in trying to swing real hard. Which was affecting the way I swing because there were times when I thought I'd fall over on my follow through. Nick gave me a few more pointers out of mercy, like straightening out the shaft and closing in the face to the ball, not hitting the ball at the very bottom, and my favorite one: relax and easy on the swing. It became my mantra; take it easy. Very hard when instincts tell you to hit it farther than the one next to you. My personal advice: don't move your head to watch the ball once you feel it hit. Keep it down until you follow through. It squares your shoulder. I got that from hitting the driver. Ah, the driver.
Nick pulls out the big 4 wood and tells me to try it. I graciously decline for fear of making a bigger moron of myself. But I give in eventually. Big mistake. Not once did I get a good hit and I almost hit someone on the far right corner. The last swing was what got me to stop. I positioned across the ball, took a deep breath and gave it a good whack. By the way, I've never said "whack" so many times in a 3 hour period in my life. In the words of Lindsay Lohan "it's retarded". Anyway, the ball ends up hitting the rail in front of me and ricochet's 2 feet in the grass behind me. Thank god that rail was there. I was through with the driver after that. Nick had seen enough too and promptly handed me an 8 Iron.
Around about this time, my hands were aching along with my legs, back, neck; pretty much everything except my forehead. You can easily tell if you hit the ball wrong. It might travel, but the vibration from the impact goes up from the face of the club to your arms. Imagine a gong being hit. The vibrations spread outwards from the center of the impact, creating the familiar sound. There was no sound in my case. Maybe a few broken bones. Might have been my pinky.
After 2 hours, I was spent so we went putting. This, I think I can do. I am a seasoned mini golfer. So we play a game of 6 holes. Less strokes it takes for you to finish 6 holes wins. We alternate choosing holes and distance. Like HORSE without the letters. For 4 rounds, I get beat by an average of 4 strokes. And all that walking around the putting surface was real tiring. Especially when your getting creamed. I couldn't use my distinct advantage of knowing when to hit a ball once the bridge is down or when the clowns mouth is open. Oh well at least there was no money involved.
All in all, it was good times. I think I got a handle on my swing. It's a lot easier to hit the ball off a tee. But I don't have any grand ambitions. I think I'll stick to writing and hold on to my fingers straight and intact.
I took a few whacks at a golf ball.
It must be close to 15 years since I've been in a driving range and swung at a few. And it feels like it too. I now have more respect for Golf players. You might think its just walking and swinging but let me tell you, it's hard as hell.
I got an invite from a buddy at work to go to the local driving range. They had a winter promo going where you pay once and hit as many balls as you can stand. Or until you hit someone else. Then they'll kick you out. Anyway, I was a bit hesitant since I haven't played in awhile and the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself. That led to this exchange:
Me: I haven't played in awhile. My swing is terrible.
Nick: Yeah you and half the people that are there.
Pretty convincing. Why not, I thought. Never been a big fan but I do enjoy watching. The pro's make it look so easy hitting a tiny round ball 300 yards. Might be fun. At the very least, it makes for a good blog entry.
So I get to the range after work and start off with a 9 iron. My very first swing felt awkward and uncomfortable. Like bending over backwards. That's what happens when you try to hit it halfway accross the pacific on your first try. Naturally it went 5 feet out, with a few mercy bounces. Hey at least I actually hit the damn thing. After a couple more swings, (and a few airballs) I finally got it up. Up and right. Not bad. I've seen the pro's hook it a couple of times. Not with a 9 iron but still. A few tips from my buddy on my swing and I think I got the hang of it. So, I decided to move up to a 6 Iron. That led to this exchange.
Me: I feel good. Let me try a 6.
Nick: That is a 6.
Am I that good? Probably not but I have officialy made an idiot of myself. Which was proven to be true since I didn't get to hit a good one afterwards. Meanwhile, My legs were starting to ache from all the twisting and turning in trying to swing real hard. Which was affecting the way I swing because there were times when I thought I'd fall over on my follow through. Nick gave me a few more pointers out of mercy, like straightening out the shaft and closing in the face to the ball, not hitting the ball at the very bottom, and my favorite one: relax and easy on the swing. It became my mantra; take it easy. Very hard when instincts tell you to hit it farther than the one next to you. My personal advice: don't move your head to watch the ball once you feel it hit. Keep it down until you follow through. It squares your shoulder. I got that from hitting the driver. Ah, the driver.
Nick pulls out the big 4 wood and tells me to try it. I graciously decline for fear of making a bigger moron of myself. But I give in eventually. Big mistake. Not once did I get a good hit and I almost hit someone on the far right corner. The last swing was what got me to stop. I positioned across the ball, took a deep breath and gave it a good whack. By the way, I've never said "whack" so many times in a 3 hour period in my life. In the words of Lindsay Lohan "it's retarded". Anyway, the ball ends up hitting the rail in front of me and ricochet's 2 feet in the grass behind me. Thank god that rail was there. I was through with the driver after that. Nick had seen enough too and promptly handed me an 8 Iron.
Around about this time, my hands were aching along with my legs, back, neck; pretty much everything except my forehead. You can easily tell if you hit the ball wrong. It might travel, but the vibration from the impact goes up from the face of the club to your arms. Imagine a gong being hit. The vibrations spread outwards from the center of the impact, creating the familiar sound. There was no sound in my case. Maybe a few broken bones. Might have been my pinky.
After 2 hours, I was spent so we went putting. This, I think I can do. I am a seasoned mini golfer. So we play a game of 6 holes. Less strokes it takes for you to finish 6 holes wins. We alternate choosing holes and distance. Like HORSE without the letters. For 4 rounds, I get beat by an average of 4 strokes. And all that walking around the putting surface was real tiring. Especially when your getting creamed. I couldn't use my distinct advantage of knowing when to hit a ball once the bridge is down or when the clowns mouth is open. Oh well at least there was no money involved.
All in all, it was good times. I think I got a handle on my swing. It's a lot easier to hit the ball off a tee. But I don't have any grand ambitions. I think I'll stick to writing and hold on to my fingers straight and intact.
posted by Ryan at 10:35 PM
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