Can’t help it. Still glowing about Saturday. Biting my tongue, trying not to mention it. I know nobody wants to hear, nobody wants to hear, nobody wants to hear (well, certainly my wife and daughter, anyway)… my tongue’s bleeding from the biting.
So here goes. Still glowing over the weekend’s golf. And still trying to understand why it was a 78 when, hitting almost as nicely a few days earlier, it was an 88.
And a 78 when nothing really went that well for me (apart from my long game, that is). A triple bogey at the second, for instance, due to two incompetent chips and a 2ft missed putt (I still blame the green for that one, mind you – one of those that you go to pick the ball out of the hole only for it to suddenly veer offline, making you look doubly stupid).
My opponent Tim, in contrast, hit some extraordinary shots, the pick a 230-yard three wood out of the rough to the front of the 10th. Then a full pitch through the trees to two feet on the 11th. Three lovely long putts right into the middle of the jar, and two or three seriously good chips from nasty lies. I couldn’t have carried any of those off.
But I hit that little bit straighter, thanks to my new Dave&Steve/Knightsbridge/Lesley King (that’s Lesley, not Ledley) swing. Which meant being allowed to clean the mud off my ball almost as a matter of course, making the shots into the green so much easier.
Sure, I had one good putt, on the 15th – a 12ft uphill putt clincher broke three inches, as the AimPoint system forewarned me – and one admittedly extraordinary chip to two feet on the 12th which, let’s be honest, I couldn’t repeat in two months of Sundays.
But it was a score founded on my long game, and solid putting. It leaves open the delicious possibility that, if I can hold onto my new technique while sharpening up my short game, I can go even lower. Which is a lovely thought for an 11-handicapper.
I think I shall spend the rest of today drinking coffee. And glowing.
No comments:
Post a Comment