Go, baby, go!

I like underdogs. In any sport, when underdogs win, it's almost always more exciting, more entertaining. I used to feel that way about Tiger Woods. If anyone could mount a comeback with Woods in the lead, I was backing the little man every time.

But not anymore.

Woods' wins over the last two majors have completely turned me around. Not only do I want to see him win, I want to see him win everything. We golf watchers are in the presence of greatness, and I would like to see that greatness compound itself beyond not only my expectations, but even my imagination.

If there was any doubt that he's the best golfer ever, he put those doubts to rest. The downside to this is that now, golf writers will feel even more compelled to construct rivalries between Woods and other golfers, but those rivalries are as contrived as the President's Cup. Woods has no peer. In a couple of years, Woods may reconstruct his swing, and for a season or two, the vacuum created by his absence will bring a few players to the fore, but inevitably, Woods will return and take back the mantle of Best Player Ever.

Hair (and I ain't talking Rado, Ragni and MacDermot)

I've got no problem with daring hair styling choices. I've even toyed with the idea of mixing up my standard hair look a few times myself. But if I could give a word of advice to Euro golfers: The "Highlighting Era" has long sinced passed. The only people still highlighting over in the U.S. (specifically Glendale, CA) are young Armenian women, who, too, apparently didn't get the message that blonde highlights now officially look ridiculous (I'm pretty sure the federal government sent out a mass mailing to that effect.) Euro golfers--if you want to be a rebel, try a hair style that you think up yourself, or at least, have only seen on the newest punk bands. I understand that pro golfers have to walk to thin line between appeasing their ultra-conservative corporate money men, and, on the other hand, trying to avoid in oneself the feeling that you're not just another guy whose main contribution to society is chasing a hard white ball. It's tough, I admit. But for the love of God, dousing your scalp with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide is no way to make an existential statement. How about an arm-band tattoo--barbed wire, perhaps?



Next week: Why you shouldn't waste your time reading Über-hacks Cameron Morfit and Ron Sirak.

Stop the insanity!

There is a certain kind of golf madness. A madness that is born of equipment. Much equipment. Choices of equipment.

For instance--which irons do you want? Game-improvement, or ultra-game-improvement? Semi-stiff, high-torque, or low kick point with high torque? Do you need a 350cc driver, 400cc or 460cc? How about hybrids vs. fairway woods?

Yes, this is insanity, and, what's worse, it can infect other aspects of your life. For instance, electric guitars offer as much choice wackiness at golf, if not more. Of late, my golf setup has been quite settled, but I've taken up the guitar, and have worn myself down to the nub looking at used guitars. A pox on eBay!

Tiger, come back.

Let me qualify the title of this post. I'm not a huge Tiger fan, simply because he doesn't embrace his role as the #1 golfer in the world with much eagerness--no signings, no bumps, nothing. He could use a lot less prima dona and more Everyman. But that aside, it was amusing to watch the U.S. Open unfold without Tiger's presence--we could subtitle the '06 Open the "Implosion" Open. Afterall, how many pros had a chance to win the event with nothing more than a par at the last? Furyk, Monty, Figjam Mickelson, and Harrington all had a chance to win--on 18, no less--but fluffed it out. The sad thing is that the back 9 had potential fto produce drama we hadn't seen in thirty years. Monty could have landed his elusive major, or Furyk could have gone on to claim his spot among golf's semi-greats. Figjam Mickelson could have laid claim to a spot as a genuine Tiger threat, having won three of four of the last majors. Instead, we were faced with a bunch of guys shaking their heads after missing shots which could have brought them the Open. Oh well, majors are meant to be won or lost on fantastic plays, and the '06 Open was no different--just so happens the plays were real stinkers.

Golf's Big Five bores or Come on, Golfers -- Act Like You WANT it!

It may gratify some to watch the perennial favorites win, but I'd rather watch the smaller, more significant dramas unfold. Take last weekend's Barclay Classic. An early leader was Billy Andrade, a pro golfer who has fallen on relatively hard times (I say "relatively" because with his sponsorships and earnings, he's still doing financially better than 97 percent of Americans--$11 million career earnings since '87 (by comparison, I've made $600,000 in the same period.)) Azinger commented that Andrade is no longer exempt, and needs to get inside the top 125 in earnings to secure his card for next year. A win would have gone quite a ways toward that end, but he didn't win. He played good, but not great, and came in fifth. One more top ten and he'll probably be okay for next year. But isn't it more fun to watch a guy like Andrade play for his life and/or career than watch Veej stoically win another check for his retirement fund? I could have even rooted for Adam Scott, who is also quite stoic, if he had shown in some demonstrable way that he really wanted to win--a twitch, hyperventilation, ANYTHING. Which brings me back to the Big five Bores. (Note: These guys may not currently be in the top five, but they are more often than not in the top five, which is why I'll spend an inordinate amount of time commenting on them.) Woods can be fun to watch--when he isn't acting like a robot, but Mickelson, Veej, Els and Goosen are sleep-inducingly boring.

Living without a net

I was watching the Golf Channel the other night and their resident psychologist took a question from a viewer. The viewer wanted to know if, since he had lowered his handicap from 18 to 8 in a year, he was justified in wanting to turn pro. My first instinct was to wonder, "Are you NUTS? At least get to scratch and play some competitive golf and see if you like it." The psychologist decided he had no right to tell anyone what to do with their life--which is true--but for the would-be pro to be cautious.
I then went on to consider my own life, and the risks I've taken on as a would-be pro writer in Los Angeles. I guess I could also apply the "Are you NUTS" comment to my own life. I'm probably about an 8 handicap writer--better than 99 percent of the public, but still with lower handicap writers ahead of me, and a few more hard-knock lessons to learn. I think Ray Bradbury said it best:
If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down.

I guess that means if you're an 8 handicap golfer or writer, it's time to jump.

Flowers for Algernon: The Golf Edition

My golf game can be defined as consisting largely of the vast valleys between Algernonaic heights of golf enlightenment. You know what I mean--those rare times when your swing seems to take over on its own and hitting the ball perfectly and with great command seems like the easiest thing you've ever performed. You can't WAIT to hit the next shot because it's so damned easy.
But then, inevitably, the magic evaporates. You're left holding the husk of understanding, trying to pump life back into that husk, trying to get back the magic, but it's gone.
I've learned that you have to take what understanding you can from those inspired moments, and then forget them. Magic will take care of itself--since it comes and goes at its own whim--and there's no point in trying to bring it back. If you can remember what you were doing in your swing that made it work better than what you had been doing before, then study it. But don't cry for the lost magic--it will return again at a time of its choosing. Be happy when it does, but also be happy when you're grinding away in the valleys, trying to figure out how your swing works. Your handicap won't go down by waiting for magic, but it will while you dig that swing out of the valley's dirt.

To forgive or not to forgive

There have been times in my golf life upon which I have looked back and wondered, "What in happy horseshit was I thinking?!" Case-in-point, my dabbling in the world of forged blades.
Blades are not impossible to hit. If you're swinging well, you can play just as well with them as with any other club. The problem was when I was swinging well, it was usually on the range. And range performance doesn't translate to the course. Actual golf, when played for score, is a much more random and unruly beast than swinging on the range. I made the switch back to uber-forgiving clubs (Ping Zings) a couple of years back and don't regret it a bit. I've recently been looking at an even more forgiving set, '94 Callaway Big Berthas.
I'm a solid 12 handicap, but I feel the more forgiving club I can play, the better. Actually, when talking about forgiveness, we're only really talking about long and mid-irons. Short irons, be they cavity back or blade, play about the same, because in both types, the club's face is so much closer to horizontal that the center of gravity ends up being in about the same spot.
I had the rare gift of taking a novice golfer through the paces of buying a complete set of used clubs at Roger Dunn. When I saw a used set of '94 Berthas, I told my friend (as I wiped the drool from my face) "Buy those." He hit them, I hit them, and they really are super forgiving, even more so than my Pings. Of course, they were regular flex, so the soft tip wasn't as precise as a stiffer shaft, but all-in-all, I was very happy that my friend lucked out and found those clubs. He tried putters, woods, wedges and bought a full set of everything. When we got to putters, we went straight to the "used" bin, and found some incredible deals. We both thought the Baby Ben Bettinardi putter (marked down from $200 to $50!) was quite the deal. He agreed and even paid me for my troubles with a Baby Ben Bettinardi putter. As for the '94 Callaways, they can be had for a song on eBay, so as soon as I get a job, I'm picking up a set, ooky stares from my wife be damned!

Expectations, the scourge of western civilization

Okay, the G.I.R. thingy didn't work out (or rather, my ability to hit more than three G.I.R.s didn't work out). I only hit three, but kept it under 90, but only by two measly strokes. Granted, I was playing for the first time at De Bell in Burbank, so I was scuttled somewhat by lack of local knowledge. I'm going to play there again next weekend, so I won't have my lack of local knowledge to blame.
Here's a question I'd like you readers to answer: when playing with different clubs, say, a buddy's borrowed set while on a trip, do you usually play better or worse? I recently played with a buddies Cobra SS irons and I hit them pretty good. They had regular shafts, where my Ping Zings have stiff, which begs a question: are my Ping shafts too stiff for my swing? I've never been professionally fitted, and at around $250 to have it done, it isn't going to happen anytime soon (I suppose when my ship comes in, I'll get fit and buy a Sky Caddie on the same day. Of course, after buying my wife an exquisite piece of jewelry. Or at least, I'll let her think I bought her the jewelry first.)
So from a shaft fitting perspective, it's equally likely that I'm playing overly stiff shafts. Oy, I thought I'd put all this club buying shit behind me. I've got much too many things to obsess about--spec scripts I need to write, job to find, self to convince myself doesn't exist, which Fender or Gibson knock-off electric guitar to buy (I'm leaning heavily towards an Agile Les Paul knock off, they've gotten great reviews on Harmony Central. Plus, there's no way I'm going to Guitar Center or Sam Ash to play one. Firstly, they don't carry Agiles, and secondly, I CANNOT STAND when the guitar salesguys hover over you as you play. I feel naked, and since my playing is at the novice level, it's just too frustrating to play in front of them. I know, I know, you're saying, "Get over yourself little man." But it's just human nature to feel castrated in that situation, and since I spend most of my mental effort trying not to be castrated by the actual competitive world, I don't feel like going to the guitar shop and coming so close to castration when the guitar is supposed to be fun.)
So, back to shafts, I think my Ping shafts may be too stiff. So you know what I did? I went and swung my wife's clubs, which have Senior flex shafts (known as "A" flex: interesting sidetrack. Back in the day, "A" flex stood for amateur, and no one in the golf industry has felt like changing it.) The swings felt great. Fast, easy, little effort. So, tomorrow, I'm going to do a head-to-head comparison at the ole' range. If the Gramps shafts win out, it could be curtains for the Pings, though I am LOATHE to part with them. I'm attached, you know? They've suffered right along with me, but then again, they may have been responsible for a lot of that suffering. So DAMN them to HELL.
Which brings me to another subject and another question for you, the reader. Why is it that people become attached to things? Like the shirt that Uncle Bob gave you during that summer on the Cape? The recipe Mom gave you before she died? A Christmas ornament Grams and you painted when you were five? What does all this stuff MEAN? Mom is dead, and making that recipe in her honor isn't going to change that? Right? This is a tough question I've struggled with ever since my Mom died 20 years ago, but it applies to any kind of regret or sentimentality. After all, the recipe, or the shirt, or the ornament are just a symbol for something in us that we can't let go of, but was is it? I suppose if I could answer that question, I'd probably be on the road to... well, I'd be on the road, which is a something.

Ciao.

KZ Golf and what to buy

I went on a job interview with KZ Golf, a custom pro-line manufacturer. I didn't take the job because me and "sales" are like Superman and kryptonite--just doesn't mix. But they were a really cool bunch who believe every word on their website. You see, the Big 5--Nike, Titleist, Callaway, Cobra and Wilson--rely on advertising to get you to buy their products. Whether or not you shoot better scores is irrelevant, because, they know if you don't play well, you'll blame yourself, not their clubs. Enter KZG. They only sell their clubs to retailers who can custom fit you to the gear. I've never been fitted, so I can't say if fitting really is as important as fitters claim. I did have a Ping fitting, and they recommeded I play upright clubs (green dot), but the one time I played a buddy's green dot set, I hit just as you would expect to if they were too upright--slices all the way (and I NEVER slice.) Still, I'm DYING to go through the fitting process, but it'll have to wait until I, at least, have a job. And if you think you might want to buy KZG stuff off eBay, whether used or new, don't bother--if you can't get the clubs fit to you, there's really no point in buying them (which I learned at the job interview.)

I may have mentioned this before, but aside from a fitting, the only other golf item I really, really want is the Sky Caddie. Trying to guess yardages is a pain-in-the-ass, and I would love to see how much better I play if I had accurate measurments while I played. Sadly, new Sky Caddies are $350, and you have to buy a yearly subscription (anywhere from $20 to $60.) Now this is an item, unlike the KZG clubs, which I will wholeheartedly buy on eBay. They usually go for around $300, but hey, fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

I'm playing tomorrow at De Bell in Burbank. It's a "sporting" executive, which means there are par 5s, but instead of relying on distance to pose the challenge to par, the course uses doglegs. For instance, I think there's a 450 yard par 5, which, under normal circumstances, would a fairly easy hole. But, De Bell has thrown-in a right turn just short of the drive's landing area, so you'd best be accurate. But the radical bit of info I recently learned is this--QUIZ: there is a strong correlation between which of the following: a) driving distance, b)driving accuracy, c) putting, d) sand saves, or e) greens-in-regulation? The answer is "e", G.I.R. More than any other factor, how many greens you hit has the most significant correlation to score. And this holds true for pros as well. To break 90, you have to hit at least 3 G.I.R.s; 80, you have to hit at least 8 G.I.R.s; 70, you have to hit at least 13 G.I.R.s Cool, huh? Here's the article from Golf Digest's website:

By Lucius Riccio, Ph.D.
Golf Digest
May 2006

Of all the statistics in the game, only two really matter when it comes to determining score: greens hit in regulation (example: you hit a par-4 green in two) and putts. Breaking 80 usually goes with reaching certain benchmarks in these areas. To help you get there, Shelby Futch, who heads the Golf Digest Schools, has provided some quick tips (below). My job is to show you the numbers.

Most golfers think putting is the biggest factor in scoring, but greens in regulation (GIRs) are much more important. So important, you almost don't need to look at anything else to predict your score. The most useful score-analysis tool I've developed, called "Riccio's Rule" and first published in Golf Digest in 1987, predicts score based on GIRs: Score = 95 – 2 x GIRs. The chart below, based on this rule, shows how GIRs relate to score:



The above is a chart that didn't load, but here's the info in it (G.I.R.=average score):
1=93, 2=91, 3=89, 4=87, 5=85, 6=83, 7=81, 8=79, 9=77, 10=75, 11=73, 12=71, 13=69.

Here's a quick way to remember the effect of GIRs on your score: "Three greens break 90, eight greens break 80, and 13 greens break 70." That prediction is fairly accurate for any single round, and within one stroke about 90 percent of the time when you take the average of four or more rounds.

So that's our first part: To consistently break 80, you should average eight or more GIRs. Take a few recent scorecards, or record your next few rounds, and average your scores, then average your GIRs. Compare your results to the chart at left. I bet you're right at, or very close to, where the chart says you should be. But if you score better than your GIRs would predict--say, you hit four greens but average 83--you probably have an extraordinary short game. You need to focus on hitting more greens. If you score worse than your GIRs would predict--say, you hit seven greens but average 85--then your putting is weak, or you tend to have blowup holes, which throw off any system for predicting score.

So, it would seem that paying attention to G.I.R.s is more important than avoiding 3-putts. I'll be putting this insight to the test tomorrow and will let you know how it worked out.

Here's a depressing thought: I now know of three people who went from rank beginner to scratch golfer in one year: Greg Norman, Earl Woods, and Mike, the fitter at KZG.

Playing versus practice

I had an enlightening experience the other day. I went to my favorite practice course (Scholl Canyon in Glendale, CA) with my usual intention to play 9 holes and try all kinds of different shots on the course, i.e., practice. I wasn't going to worry about my score, but then I decided to chuck the idea of practice and really try to get a score. Now, I'm not here to say to say I shot the lights out; no, I did what I usually do--hit it loose on the front, tighten it up on the back. But what did happen was that I was able to concentrate on each shot and not worry about my score or technique or any of the little niggling things that distract and keep me from playing well. I also experienced that strange yet common golf experience of remembering the correct techniques for certain shots--you know, you figure out a technique and say to yourself, "Wait a minute, I taught myself this last summer. Man, get with the program!" I think most golfers remain "average" because they can't improve their skills--or even maintain--due to lack of practice time. Ever notice how really good golfers always seem to have come from country-club- member parents? The club provided the young golfer the hours-upon-hours of practice time needed to learn and re-learn skills--a process we average Joes string out over decades.

One way to optimize practice is to make sure you're relaxed while you're doing it. Unexpectedly, I learned something from my ongoing guitar learning experience that applies to golf. I found a guitar teacher on the web whose system of practice applies perfectly to golf. Check out this here. I'm sure this guy's lessons (or girl--is "Jaime" male of female?) can be applied to everything from guitar to golf to painting to yoga.

[Note: there's a link the guitar man's site to the left]

Survey results and this world of ours

Just as I suspected, my loyal readers are conscientious, rational, are neither religious nor Bush dogmatists, and feel that good golf comes from practice and confidence. And here's where my heart really goes out: you all feel you could be playing much better; in fact, you feel your golfing potential is largely unfulfilled--if we were fulfilled, we probably wouldn't be golfers.

You just got to stick with it. Golf, guitar, writing, and scrimshaw all require persistence for mastery. But jeez, it does sometimes just piss you off when we don't "get it." Practice is supposed to make us better, and when it doesn't, you can feel like the chucking the whole thing. Maybe that's a sign it's time for a break. My shoulder injury worked out great for my game. I'm hitting it like never before. I'm heading the course this afternoon, and when I get back, I shall post my new personal best score (I know it's going to happen, I can just feel it.) So, see you in a few hours.

Ciao.

This week's SURVEY

Well, I did it. Yep, my rotator cuff is cheese, so until it's back to 100% health, I've been benched. No more golf for a few months. Instead, I'll be getting into shape, doing all kinds of exercises I should have done a long time ago. For those of you with a similar injury, don't let your doctor talk you too quickly into surgery unless you are in extremely bad shape; I'm talking excruciating pain. Stretching, strengthening, and rest from the offending sport can restore most rotator cuffs to full health. Surgery causes lots of nasty scar tissue which is really tough to stretch, so only use surgery as a last resort. While I rehab, I'll still be talking about the insanity that is golf, but in the meantime, how about a little survey? I'd like to know what my visitors think, so take a minute and follow the link, follow the link, follow the yellow brick link and fill it out (there's a link back to my blog if you so choose to return.) I'll post the results in a few weeks.

Okay, golf, you win. Just stop punching me in the nads.

Woods and his caddy having
trouble connecting their High-5. Confidence issues?

I don't know how much longer I can take this. Went out and played a round with my brother, and I was hitting the same stupid hooks that I never, ever hit on the range. What the hell is that about? How can I degrade from my great range swing to an almost unusable swing on the course? Well, let's see. Of late, I've had a hard time of it, what with trying to write some spec screenwriting material (which isn't going so well), and all the year-end self-evaluation, I'd say my self-image is not at peak form. So I guess it's not surprising that I'd go out and not hit the most confident shots--I'm probably a little too much in my head. But jeez, not "The Hook." I thought I'd seen the last of the shot which is this blog's namesake. It's kind of like getting up to sing before an audience, opening your mouth, and only French comes out. You stop, regroup, say to yourself, "Sing in ENGLISH! ENGLISH! ENGLISH!" Take a deep breath, open your mouth, and out comes French again. Oy vey, to be a man on the golf course is to suffer. To top it off, every joint associated with the golf swing--shoulder, wrists, neck--is perpetually sore, so I may have seen my last golf for awhile if my doctor tells me to let my ligaments and tendons take a rest.

Maybe the point of a bad swing is to just stop caring? Just let it do its thing, I'll do mine, and go with the flow. Of course, practice is required, but once on the course, maybe you're supposed to make due with what you got, and leave the beautiful shots to the land of dreams from whence they came? I know that sounds a little high-fallutin', but what other options do I--or any of us--actually have? Sure, it would be nice if I could get a set of teaching pro's eyes to look at my Wounded Swing, but since I don't have a pro on retainer to help me out when things go badly, what's a guy to do but accept it and move on? I was able to shoot an 86, which, while not stellar, isn't miserable, either. So I guess I'll have to accept it until something better comes along.


A Bold Experiment update: Since, as you've just read, my swing left me utterly, it didn't make a difference what club I would have used from 200 yards (the yardage for which I have no specific club) be it an iron, hybrid, or wood. I will say this: When I'm swinging well, I could use a hockey stick from 200 yards and hit it within 15 feet, so my Bold Experiment just might be a non-issue (the real issue being working on my on-course performance, not set make-up.)

A bold experiment update

The club on the left (in 17 degrees) is my one fairway wood. As you know, I've been trying to get along with just it alone. I hit the wood between 230 and 250 (with a helping wind) and since my set begins at 5 iron, which I hit 180-190 range, I have a huge yardage gap. So, I think I've come to a conclusion: I need another club. I'll probably going to pick up a PING HL 2 or 3 iron. But only if the price is right, and that means Ebay. And lots of searching. And searching. And waiting. And searching. And bidding. And searching again. And waiting.

However, I've just discovered a rather pricey piece of golf gear I'd like to get my hands on--the Sky Caddie. It's a GPS yardage guide that tells you how far you are to hazards and the front, middle and back of the green. It's $350--OUCH!--and since I'm not retired, (I am unemployed as the TV show I was working on got canceled) I don't have any disposable income. Disposable time? That I obviously have plenty of.

Feeding golf's hungry ghosts

I bought a Cleveland Launcher 4 wood at Roger Dunn golf, home of the famous 90-day exchange policy. I had been hitting some snap hooks with it, so decided a different club might be in order. I wanted exchange it for a PING HL 4 iron but didn't want the store to put my 4 wood on the sales floor. In response to my request, the salesguy offered this, "We can't do that, so you haver two options: be patient with your current club, or be sure you want to get rid of it, because you won't be getting it back." After my initial peevishness, I took the 4 wood to the range and hit snap hooks until... I didn't. I figured-out what was causing my hooks, straightened out my shots, and was hitting it better than ever. So why is it that most golfers--myself included--automatically put the blame on their gear and not their swing when they're game goes sour? There are many superficial advantages and God knows I love superficiality. Firstly, who doesn't like to shop for new clubs? Each new purchase is another fresh, steaming hope thrown onto the dung heap of hopes that we will, at last, be the golfers we know we can be. Secondly, it's a lot easier to say your clubs suck and not your swing which has 12 swing thoughts, 8 waggles, and 5 excuses why it hit a worm-burning slice, yet again. If statistics are to be believed, only about 10 percent of guys in the pro shop will actually benefit from better-matched clubs; the rest of us are just kidding ourselves. Even if you're loaded with cash and don't mind spending the money on a continual flow of new equipment, you're, at best, treading water with your swing and game--why would you want to do that? A beautiful swing and great score are more satisfying than any new club. That' not to say today's clubs, especially drivers, aren't going to help; they're ridiculously more forgiving than their presimmon predecessors, but this year's model isn't going to improve your score any more than using last year's model. Show a little patience and work on your swing. If you suck at golf, admit it, get some lessons, and instead of spending thousands of dollars on golf clubs, buy art instead.

What was I thinking?

A few years ago, I bought a PING Huffer stand bag for $170, and my brother said, "How can you do that?" I thought he was wacky for questioning why I would spend that not unsubstantial sum of money on a golf bag--and a PING bag at that. Over the next year or so, I came to an understanding that allowed me to ask myself: What was I thinking spending $170 on a lousy golf bag? Was I insane, temporarily seduced by the lure of brand name products? I must have been, because since then, I've played just fine without a brand name bag (until I got a Datrek IDS bag this weekend at Out of the Closet for $25--WOW!) I remember when I was 19, and I thought buying a Ralph Lauren shirt was like touching the hem of the Virgin Mary's robe. If I am indicative of the American public, I would imagine most apparel companies make most their money off the younger crowd, preying on their fragile identities. It's sad, really, because I know plenty of guys who never shake this dependence on brand name. As they get older, they become more odd, adhering to a system of indentification they should be, at least, beginning to shed. Now I'll admit PING golf clubs are second to none in terms of forgivness and playability (and at my first opportunity, I will pick-up a used set of G2s, with the HL option) but their accessories, I hate to admit, are nothing but pure hype. There are plenty of golf bags better than PING, their apparel is nothing to write home about, but they have a right to make cash like anyone else. The only reason anyone ever wears PING golf apparel is because they, too, have been seduced, or have a connection to at-cost or free stuff. If PING wants me to wear a visor with PING emblazoned on the brow, why don't they pay ME to walk around advertising their product?

One Plane Golf Swing

Here's a fantastic website by Chuck Quinton, a golf instructor somewhere in Florida. He teaches the one plane swing, and has lots of streaming video drills to watch. I think it's a good starting point for learning the swing, but finding a local teacher is ultimately the best idea. From my own experience, this swing works great with the driver, but I've a little trouble applying it to short irons--probably because it's a much more "around" than vertical swing. What Chuck is best at, contrary to what you might think, is teaching average golfers not to worry so much about technique. Too many golfers obsess about golf mechanics, which dooms them to inconsistent play on the course. That's refreshing.

To golf or not to golf

5 hours is a long time to dedicate to golf, and I would play more often if it didn't take so long, but the problem is that starters allow too many groups on the course. Sure, if fewer groups were given tee times, fewer golfers would get decent tee times, but on L.A.'s muni courses, getting a good tee time is already the impossible dream, so what difference would it make if starters sent groups off every 17 minutes instead of 10? The second reason golf is so damn slow is that most golfers think they reach par 5s and long par 4s in two shots, which 95% of golfers can't. To prove this to yourself, just watch the group ahead of you. On par 5s, you always see guys standing in the fairway waiting for the green to clear, and once it does, step up to the ball, and hit a topped worm-burner about 100 yards--without fail.

It would also help matters if marshalls actually did their jobs and kept people's paces up, instead of hoping their mere presence near a slow group is enough to frighten them into faster play. C'mon marshalls, grow a pair. The people I play with usually have the good sense to pick up after hitting triple bogey en route to the hole, but if they don't, I've no problem telling them they should.

Another way to quicken play is to demand everyone have a handicap and only allow those with one better than, say, a 28, play courses over 6000 yards. There are courses for learning to play, and learners should stick to those courses until they can play fast enough to not ruin it for everyone behind them--playing on a par 72 course should be a privilege for dedicated players, not a right for every duffer who bought a set of clubs and is going to roam around a course just because they like Tiger Woods.

Embarrassment wears a polo

A couple of weeks ago I played a round of golf with my wife's uncle, who in some cirlces is known simply as Uncle Bob (though his name isn't Bob, and if I ever called him Bob to his face, he'd probably drive his 550 horsepower Corvette up my ass.) He lives in a gated golf community, and his house is just off #1 green. First, a comment about gated communities. In my past life as a fan of the proletariat, I poo-pooed anything that smacked of elitism. Gated communities topped the list of things I would never support. However, I have to admit, when my wife and I drove up to the front gate, said we were visting Uncle Bob and his wife, and the guard opened the gate for us, I felt kind of special. Exclusivity is such a wonderful thing. It is weird, though, to drive the streets and find little traffic, and what traffic there is mainly consists of Porsches, Cadillacs, and other overly horsepowered cars. Speaking of horsepower--ever driven in a 550 hp car? It throws you into your seat like a Shuttle take-off. I drive a '93 Escort wagon with a fuel injection problem, so the only horses under my hood are anemic old swaybacked nags.

Back to the gated community. The quiet streets could definetely lead one to think a deep secret covers the town in hush, but knowing Uncle Bob, the only secret there could be is that no one wants to talk to anyone else because none of the men are in town any longer than 2 days before taking off on a business trip, and don't want to waste precious time talking to nieghbors.

But the golf...my god the golf! I started out great, but as is always the case, as I got more tired, by swing got funkier until Uncle Bob felt it was appropriate to say, "The way you played the last hole was UGLY." Truly, it was. The thing is is that as I warmed up on the driving before the round, I knew something was off. I was hitting some very strange wedge shots, and when your wedges are off, you're in deep, deep bat guano. So, here's my advice for when you're about to tee off and are fully cognizant that your game has mutated into a freakish monster: find a swing, be it ugly, ridiculous, or primitive, that can get you through the day and stick with it. I tried to fix my swing on the course and that only made it worse. If I had accepted the fact my swing was going to suck on the driving range and took steps to remedy it, I probably would have had a much better score, and isn't that what it's all about?

Bold Experiment update: Though I've only played one round with just a 4 wood, initial feedback tells me it's a bad idea. I don't carry a 3 or 4 iron, so I have a big yardage gap between 240 and 185, and choking down on the 4 wood isn't covering the bill. So, if the tv show I'm working on isn't canceled before Christmas, I'm going to buy a hybrid, maybe a PING G2 HL 3 or 4 iron, or a Cleveland Halo. Oh, and if anyone knows of a good one-plane swing teacher in the Los Angeles area, please forward me his/her info. Muchas gracias.