Last spring, I volunteered to help with a golf clinic for two of our local middle schools. The annual spring program is designed to spark young peoples' interest in the game, and to scout possible talent for the local high school's fall golf teams -- boys and girls. With the clinic being held some 25 miles from my workplace, it proved a challenge to make it on time each day for the three days a week it was held. I managed, burned up quite a bit of gas in the process, and loved every minute of it.
My goal at this stage in my life is to work for another decade, retire early from my current career, get a part time job somewhere -- hopefully one that has some insurance benefits -- and start a First Tee program in my community. I've been a Boy Scout leader for about eight years and I enjoy working with young people -- have no idea why or where the desire originated, I just know it's there and I feel it's become my calling of sorts. Although it seems many of them lack much ambition in life, kids today do seem more lighthearted, and generally more fun to be around. I've also discovered they need direction, and positive adult role models that can continue to give them encouragement and real self-esteem (not the feel-good stuff they're getting at school -- you know, the "everybody's a winner" routine).
From just seeing the TV commercials and viewing their website, I like the principles the First Tee program teaches. Of all the facets they focus on -- honesty, perseverance, trust, etc. -- the most important one of all, I believe, is perspective. It's easy for young people to develop the attitudes of their parents, and the current generation of parents seem to dwell more on what they don't have than to be thankful for what they do. Kids pick up on that and can come across as never being satisfied. Many times, I've considered taking one (or several) of our whiny-butt Scouts down to the cancer ward of the Children's Hospital in Louisville and have them sit in the waiting room for an hour or so -- don't say a word, don't move, just sit and observe. Then when I pick them up, ask them again what their complaints in life are.
I certainly do my fair share of whining -- some of my blogs and forum responses reveal that truth -- but I do feel as adults our most important role is to instill perspective in our youth. It's the key that starts the car to happiness.
In working with the kids at the clinic, it was rewarding to see when the light bulb goes off and they begin to understand various concepts of the golf swing. It would be easy to write a story about each kid, since each came into the clinic with different interests and expectations. I tried to get to know and treat each as an individual, seeing what made them tick. I studied several golf instruction videos to better understand the swing myself, and to act confidently when teaching.
What I wasn't prepared for was a subject we stumbled onto one afternoon while out on the course. Two of the boys, Gary and David (not their real names) were quite competitive, keeping track of each other's score more closely than their own. Following the third hole, both commenced to arguing about each other's previous score. Gary finally asked me to intervene, stating, "David had a 9 and he wrote down 8. He didn't count that one he hit real fat back there." I asked David if it was true that he didn't count the stoke, and he replied, "Dude, I barely even moved the ball. That shouldn't count."
The incident led to a short spill from me about cheating. The reaction I got stopped me -- literally -- in my tracks.
David said, "My dad told me it ain't cheating if you don't get caught."
I quit walking with the group. I stood still, looking very surprised at David. I said, "Wait a minute. You've got to say that again. What did your dad tell you?" He reiterated, "My dad said it ain't cheating if you don't get caught. He's told me that a bunch."
There are times in life you're caught off guard and feel a bit naive. And for me, this was definitely one of those moments. How was I to respond to this? If a kid's getting this okay from a parent, who am I to contradict?
So, I resorted to a TV show that's become one of my favorites -- My Name is Earl. Karma -- that's what I discussed. You can't go through life doing the wrong thing and expect good things to happen in return. I'm a God-respecting Christian (Catholic) and believe He's watching it all and taking account, but with this clinic being an extended public school function, I was reluctant to invoke God in the instruction. I'm far from perfect, and find it challenging to advise others on right and wrong, but I have a strong belief it's my job to do so in the adult role. The subject of Karma seemed to do the trick.
We went on to discuss specifics on how they had cheated at school. As I've stated before, kids can be brutally honest, and they told me, quite candidly, about cheating on tests by writing answers on their hands, looking off another's paper, sneaking notes into books and on the back of things (like calculators). They really had a system, and most notably, no concept that any of it was wrong. They believe their teachers don't seem to care, and by them turning a blind eye to it, their teachers acknowledge an unstated approval.
For me, the discussion made for an enlightening afternoon, and has reinforced my desire to get involved with kids through golf. I hope to visit some successful First Tee facilities over the next few years to see how things are done -- no sense in re-inventing the wheel. In the meantime, I plan to again help with the golf clinic. Let's see how they'll surprise me this time around.
I really dislike playing "residential" golf -- those courses developed through large, expensive home sites with more man-made structures than trees.
I live near Louisville and I've been lucky enough to play many of the more upscale, private clubs through friends and business contacts. When driving through the many golf course developments, I'm always amazed at the amount of wealth that exists. I've often thought about knocking on one of the doors and asking the person at home what they do for a living, and if they're hiring. Not that I've ever been inspired to be wealthy and to live in such a manner -- I'm content with my job, my income, my life -- I'm just curious as to how so much can be maintained by so many.
One example is Lake Forest CC on Louisville's east end. Just a few miles from Valhalla (home to this year's Ryder Cup), the course is an Arnold Palmer design that winds through what seems an endless number of upscale homes. From the main road, the development doesn't appear all that substantial, but cruising through it is overwhelming. The houses just go on and on. Beautiful homes to say the least, but like many of these developments, they seem a little too tightly spaced, some so close only a few lawn mower swipes separate them.
The course itself is a nice layout -- challenging, requiring you to play every club in your bag. Lake Forest would make my personal top 10 list ... if I could have the course picked up and moved elsewhere. For me, the homes surrounding the course are just too approaching to enjoy the golf. I'm a pretty decent player and regularly keep the ball within the designated confines, but throw in some high-dollar properties in place of good old trees and bushes, and I'm a nervous wreck. I've scored big both times I played Lake Forest because I just couldn't get myself to release the golf club. It was pull hook after pull hook off the tee. It's one thing to shove a drive into some out-of-the-way woods, it's another to ruin somebody's afternoon by knocking the glass out of their bay window, or pinging their kid in the noggin with a stray Noodle while they're flippin' on their trampoline.
The danger is most eminent on Hole 10, a respectable Par 4. A lake runs along the left side of the fairway, jetting out away from the tee the further left it goes. The green is elevated -- wide, and not very deep. The pin position really does determine the best approach, so the tee shot is critical, requiring both length and accuracy, especially if you challenge the lake to the left. The problem, however, lurks to the right, for all along that side are homes located just several feet from the cart path and out-of-bounds. It's one in particular that catches the eye and creates negative swing thoughts -- a three story monster abode that has to be worth well over $1 million (even in the current market). It has two walkout decks, not including the ground-level patio. What's most noticeable is the safety nets that rise to the home's height, the same netting you see protecting most driving ranges. To state the obvious, I would think it would be a bit of an eyesore, which leads to an obvious question -- Why would someone build a home there, especially one that pricey?
Statistically speaking, by simple process of elimination, I guess someone would have to live there, and that answers the question. You just have to wonder if the owner has ever heard the word "slice," other than referencing bread, pizza or OJ Simpson. Heck, even Tiger, our planet's best, errs to the right.
Another private course I play several times each year is Glenmary CC, located south of Louisville. Glenmary was built on a gorgeous piece of land that I remember passing by when I was a kid. The original home -- what's now the clubhouse -- sat far back off the main road, the long drive framed by majestic trees. It was a unique, traditional place in the area, and one of the first to be transformed into a residential golf community. The layout is relatively short for today's standards, especially the back nine. A few of the par fours are nearly drivable, and one of the par fives is easily reachable for even short hitters.
The most distinguishing feature of Glenmary are the very close houses -- they are creepy close in places. Last year, when playing with my buddy Dewayne -- the big hittin' lefty -- his opening drive was a wicked pull that was stopped by the sound of denting aluminum. His ball caught the downspout of a resident's gutter, resulting in a very loud "pow." Dewayne promptly took his mulligan, which found the playable part of the course, and being the frugal (and brave) person that he is, couldn't resist trying to find his first salvo in the victim's backyard. Luckily, the residents were not at home, but upon arriving at the scene, Dewayne found not his ball, only an angry neighbor pacing around the area while calling the pro shop to report Dewayne's crime. Dewayne was not the downspout's first offender -- there were four dents total (distinctly golf ball made) -- so there was no real evidence that Dewayne's shot caused damage. Our foursome hurriedly hit our approach shots, putted out and shot over to the next tee. Happily, no one from the pro shop followed up on the complaint. They probably thought the same thing we did -- "Hey, dude, you live on a golf course. Get over it."
The worst I've seen is Crosswinds GC in Bowling Green, Ky. A municipal facility operated by the city, playing this course activated my claustrophobia -- I felt like I was playing indoors, surrounded by walls. Simply put, people living "on the course" actually do. The eighth hole -- over 400 yards from the whites -- is a dogleg left Par 4. Sitting directly in the dogleg is some naive king's castle. You can only see the roof of the home from the tee box because of a large wooden fence that separates the course from the residential community, but it literally sits right in the dogleg. The funniest thing is the tee marker. Other than the typical info -- par, schematic, distance -- at the bottom is a special sign demanding that players not aim at the house to cut off the dogleg and aim only for the fairway as designed. I've never seen such a sign on a golf course, a sign that certainly wouldn't have been necessary if the course architect and the housing developer maybe met for lunch a few times prior to each starting up their dozers. It was crazy. And of course, to meet their demands, I pushed my drive way right and turned it into a Par 5 -- which I wish it was as to only have bogied (translation, I made 6).
I plan to start a blog on this subject -- residential golf is kind of my pet peeve. I understand the need, making the best use of the land, maximizing profits and all that stuff, I just don't have to like it. I know, I know -- I don't have to play there, either. But, statistically speaking, somebody has to.
Easter’s come early for me, it seems, for I have already found an egg where I know one wasn’t before. It’s my right bicep, and although most would find it laughable, for the first time in my life I have an arm muscle. Sure, there should also be one in my other arm, but apparently it remains a bit shy.
As I blogged earlier, I started a dumbbell workout routine -- something to do during the winter months. I’ve stuck with my schedule of working out every other day, and the results thus far are promising. I’ve been enjoying it, actually, even look forward to it -- makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something, with time I’d normally be dedicating to doing much of nothing. My son also joins me at times -- he’s started weightlifting and conditioning for high school football. It’s been hard to practice the correct breathing during the exercises because we’re making fun of each other so often, laughing at one another’s weakness.
I’ve talked with a few guys I know who work out regularly and got some good advice on what exercises to do, how to modify the exercises to work certain muscles, how not to injure myself (especially my joints),and how to maximize workouts through what I eat. I’ve started taking a protein supplement I purchased at Walmart, a vanilla-flavored powder I mix with skim milk, and with a friend’s recommendation, I add a little chocolate syrup to help with the taste. It ain’t half bad. A bit gritty, but if it keeps me from wasting time and energy with no gain, then I’ll tolerate turning a perfectly good glass of milk into spackle.
My friend said that with the protein supplement, I’d immediately begin to feel my muscles “bulge” more during workouts -- and he was right. Following my first set of reps, my arm muscles feel inflated, like I can’t even hold them straight to my side. It’s an odd sensation, but it’s good feedback to know the exercises and the supplement are working.
In watching the golf pros on TV, I’m paying closer attention to their build, especially their arm muscles. With Tiger being an obvious exception, most players have more muscle than I would have ever given them credit for, even the skinny guys. The latest issue of Golf Magazine has Camilo Villegas on the cover, swinging through with his driver. His forearms are ripped, and that’s got to be a big factor in why he rips the ball off the tee. He may look like a stick figure, but that’s because he lacks fat, not muscle. He’s one of the longest hitters on tour and I can see why.
As long as the weather remains cold and the days short, I’ll continue my flys, curls, presses, kickbacks and the like to get myself ripped and ready for the new season. Maybe by Easter I’ll find that other egg hiding in my left arm, and a few other muscles as well.
I’m a monkey-see, monkey-do style of learner. I was first told that about 20 years ago -- in different words -- when I first started my current job. I took one of those personality/placement-type tests and it revealed -- to no surprise to me -- that I’m mostly a visual learner. I envy today’s generation somewhat for having an unbelievable amount of visually-based tools for learning. If I had such teaching aids back in the 80s during my high school and college years, my test scores and grades would certainly have been better.
With that said, I discovered a single image not long ago that’s really changed my golf swing. I was rummaging through some old Sports Illustrated magazines my son had piled up in his room and I saw a cover article about Tiger, called simply, “Tiger 2.0.” I didn’t get around to reading the article, but I did study the cover photo for awhile, an image of Tiger at the top of his backswing, taken from an angle not regularly seen. The image, a silhouette of sorts, has been burnt into my mind.
What’s most striking to me is Tiger’s hand position at the top -- high above his head. I love this image.
For the past decade or so, and for reasons I don’t know, I developed a pretty flat golf swing. It seemed to have come on naturally by trying to increase my shoulder rotation and producing a draw in the process. It just felt right to keep my right elbow tucked into my side during the backswing, and following that track down and around on the downswing. My hands stay well below my ears at the top, just above my right shoulder. In what has become my regular swing, I can aim way to the right of the target -- and I mean “way right” -- and still miss left. When I’m on, it’s not a bad look. My shots fly high to the right and turn over rather quickly, with most of the draw happening late in the ball’s descent. On good days, I can control it somewhat, but most days, it has me. A pull hook or two (or six) was always in the mix, along with lost rounds and bigger scores.
Until I saw Tiger 2.0.
Starting with my driver -- where the most significant effects would seem to occur -- I made a conscious effort to take the club back higher, with my left arm straighter, and, most importantly, getting the club away from me by getting my right elbow away from my side. After setting up, my pre-shot routine mimicks Chris DiMarco somewhat. I’ll take the club back and turn my head to check the position. In my actual backswing, I’ll visualize the Tiger image, and on the downswing, my single thought is firing my left hip just slightly right of the target, getting the club in the slot and firing through.
Results are never as dramatic as one would think, but in doing this for several rounds, I’ve been really impressed. Not just with the results, but with the feel itself. My swing seems much more powerful. It’s more free, and feels more like a cut shot, without a cut result. My ball flight is straighter, the trajectory lower, and I’ve added some needed distance.
I regularly play with a guy who’s pretty gosh-darn long off the tee. Dewayne (who I blogged about before regarding a match play event), is a lefty with big shoulders, a broad turn, and a new steel-shafted driver that he simply crushes. Usually, Dewayne sails his drives way past mine, some 20-40 yards each time. But this last Sunday, I found myself pushing closer to him than ever before. On one occasion, he hit driver and I meant to lay up for position with a three wood, only to find my ball just few yards behind him -- we both went through the fairway. He even commented -- with some concern -- about my three wood tee shot. Later, when we both hit driver, he spanked one with a draw and I hit a bit of a cut, and I was dead-even with him. It was a good feeling.
The swing change has also helped with my irons. Although it’s tough to gauge iron play this time of year -- with the cold, windy conditions and the wet turf -- I have flown a few greens with the new swing. The ball seems to really take off with what feels like less effort. And, most importantly, I’m not hooking it at all, and only pulling it when I forget I have a left hip to use.
I hope to be able to keep Tiger 2.0 in the permanent memory banks. I would even like to find a nice, quality version of the photo to frame (by mistake, I stupidly tossed the SI I had) and keep it in my office. Every picture tells a story, and I hope this one helps to write a new chapter in my golfing life. I'll call it "Me 2.0."