Monday 11 April 2011

Looking Good, Playing Bad

With the sun finally gracing us with its presence and the mercury rising nicely I'd taken advantage and had been playing and practicing well. I was looking forward to a good showing in the usual Saturday roll up and had donned a rather dapper blue outfit, (light blue shirt, navy blue trousers with light blue pinstripe, with matching hat and glove) and given my brand new Footjoy Myjoy shoes an airing to finish the ensemble. Check out these bad boys


Looking like that I needed to play a bit. To be honest for the front nine I did too and the ball striking was as good as it had been in a while. However as always there's a catch. Although I was getting into great positions, I couldn't find a green from 130 yards and in and pulled and pushed a number of approaches early on and frittered shots away left, right and centre. However I galvanised the round from the 5th hole onwards. I parred it with ease and found the dancefloor at the 6th with a 5 iron. Hitting the green itself is something of a landmark on recent form but to do so with a short(ish) club is pretty good for me and testament to the way I am starting to compress down on my shots more.

I even managed an audacious par at the 7th. I hooked my hybrid badly and it was on the 3rd fairway. With the environmental area to the left and a large tree looming if I took the green on directly, options were limited. I didn't fancy the huge carry over the hazard and even if I'd made it the lie in the rough would have been in the lap of the gods. Going straight meant taking the tree on and from the lie I had elevation was always going to be an issue. That left playing to the right. Going that way meant I could take a more lofted club, take the edge of the tree on and worse case scenario be over by the 8th tee with a chip on. However being just a friendly roll up where's the fun in that? With visions of my idol Seve Ballesteros flashing though my mind, there was only one shot I could play wasn't there. The huge running hook, starting it way right of the tree and bending it around and letting it run out. The way I saw it, nothing ventured. I pured the shot. It couldn't have been any sweeter and went like a rocket, turning like a thoroughbred entering the home straight and rolled up to within 10 feet of the green. I followed it with a sublime chip that cosied down by the hole and tapped in for a "routine" par.

By the time I'd walked off the 9th I'd pocketed 17 points and all but made up for the silly errors that had blighted the first four holes and I was comfortably leading my particular three ball. Looking good and playing mighty fine.

What followed was an abject lesson in chicken counting. It started off reasonably at the tenth and eleventh with no major issues and there I was standing in the middle of the 12th fairway with 188 yards to go. The sun was shining, my new shoes were looking good and I was swinging well. I hooked my hybrid approach left and even though the lie wasn't great, I had faith in the Linear chipping technique I'd adopted and which had been serving me well. Of course, this was the moment it eloped with my putting stroke and I duffed it into the greenside bunker. I got it out to five feet but the putter went ice cold and it missed with ease.

From there the round unravelled in spectacular fashion. I shanked my wedge shot from less than 100 yards at the 15th when a good shot may have set up birdie. A double bogey was the result instead. The 16th was an another bogey after hitting it right off the tee. The 17th was perhaps the cherry on the icing on the cake and I managed to top the tee shot about 50 yards along the ground. I can't remember the last time I topped a tee shot and it actually came as a real shock to the system. I didn't bother troubling the scorers on that hole. I did manage a six (nett par) down the last but the damage had been done and I'd limped home with a meagre 12 points for 29 point total. Bertie Big Balls in his shiny shoes didn't look so clever now.

Actually in the cold light of day there were some good points as well as some negatives. On the down side, I got very burned in the sun and my neck and arms were pretty painful by the time I got home and the Aftersun cream was applied liberally and often. Another downer was the severity of the crash when the swing had been behaving for 11 holes. Whether the sunburn and heat played a factor I don't know but it does seem to be a recurring issue on the back nine holes.

One big plus was how comfy my feet were. These shoes were straight out of the box and never worn but were like a pair of old (if shiny) slippers. I am a huge Footjoy fan and if you ever have the funds I can heartily recommend their Icon range. However, putting sartorial elegance to one side, the most pleasing aspect had to be the way I fought back on the front nine from dropping three shots to my handicap in the first four holes. Usually the head goes, the tempo increases and I lose shot after shot. Today I seemed more focused and things flowed. I think in no small part, the fact that I actually had confidence in my short game again, meant that if I did miss a green I could at least be reasonably confident that three would be the most I took to get down.

In the end, it was another £3 going west into the kitty and I was left to rue what might have been. However there were still more pluses than minuses and the small matter of the monthly stableford to play in on Sunday. All I had to do was trust my swing and the pressing issue of deciding what to wear. Anyone know Gok Wan's number?

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