I'm sorry if the drone from the sound of me blowing my own trumpet is causing a problem but I'm in bullish mood. Having played reasonably well in the normal Saturday morning roll up and come third, yesterday was the turn of the monthly medal. I was drawn with our current Vice-Captain Ken Martin and a new member Ross Yates playing off an 18 handicap.
As normal, the pre-round warm up had contained the usual cacophony of mis-hits, and I'd run through the gamut of poor shots from fat to top, including slices, hooks and shanks for good measure. Confidence was on the wane and having been told at my lesson on Friday that the set-up would need to change and that I was still not taking the club away properly, the thought of a medal where every shot counts, suddenly didn't seem an appetising prospect.
I started off remarkably well considering the warm up. The opening drive was good, too good, and went through the back of the green. I hit a good chip back but I couldn't make the putt but a four (net par) is never to be sneezed at, especially in a medal. I was long again at the second hole when my wedge from 109 yards contrived to land at the front of the green and wander through into the back bunker. No justice and I could only make another bogey (net par). Still no harm done and halfway through the tough opening quartet of holes without any dramas.
Three putts at the third condemned me to a third consecutive bogey and when I came up woefully short with my approach at the next another dropped shot looked on the cards. However those two hours spent working on my chipping last week weren't wasted and I put it to five feet and rolled the uphill putt in to save par. I'd got through the tricky start unscathed and made a welcome par at the fifth to edge ahead of my handicap. As I stood over my tee shot at the 178 yard par three, the heavens opened and the first of many showers was upon us. Unprotected from the elements I somehow managed to conjure up a solid shot into the heart of the green. This had been playing as one of my nemesis holes, but whisper it quietly, I've managed to tame it in recent weeks. Another par and definitely one against the head as I finally struggled into my waterproof top and put the brolly up to give me some protection.
The sun was back out by the time we hit the seventh hole. However the tee shot didn't match the improved conditions and I hit a horrible hook into the thick rough separating it from the third hole that runs adjacent to it. I tried to be conservative and hit an eight iron back into play but it caught a tree and was lost in the protected environmental area. By the time I holed out I'd found a way to undo all the good work to date with a triple bogey seven. I steadied the ship by finding the green and making par at the shortest hole on the course, although it was another played in a squall. By the time I made a bogey five (another net par) at the ninth I'd gone out in seven over par, one more than handicap. That seven on the seventh had blemished an otherwise satisfying opening.
If I was feeling happy with my performance to date, things were about to get ugly. The drive down the tenth was tight to the left hand rough and found the thick stuff. The search was fruitless although to be honest the chances of getting it out of there was slim anyway. It meant I was under pressure and my provisional ball was now in play. I had 156 yards in and wanted to go with seven iron but in the end decided to play safe with a smooth six as it was into the wind. It was an inspired choice as it landed on the front edge and ran up the green to finish four feet short and I was able to convert for an unlikely five.
The eleventh is a par three and as I prepared to play my shot, yet another squall blew through. There was a pattern emerging and it seemed that every par three was accompanied by a rain shower. I found the green and I made a secure par. The twelfth is stroke index 1 and recognised officially as the hardest hole on the course. Personally I'd disagree and think both the seventh and sixteenth are tougher but that's another argument. A good drive and a great iron shot and I was on the green in regulation. Two putts later and I'd made par and definitely felt as though I'd gained a shot on the majority of the field. I found the green at the par three thirteenth and yes, it rained as I teed off. I had a side hill putt from seven feet and managed to make it. A rare birdie and definitely another shot gained on the field.
My drive at the fourteenth wasn't great and found the right hand rough and a deep lie. It took any hope of taking the green on out of the equation and I was forced to try and lay up into a good position. I sent it forward but it snared in the rough and left me a long third shot in. I hit another sublime iron shot and it finished three feet away. The putter duly obliged and another par was smuggled. The tee shot on the fifteenth found the fairway. It's a short par five but played into the wind. The direct route requires a carry over a ditch and some knee high rough and there is a line of heavy rough down the right side to catch anything pushed or sliced. I wanted to go with the hybrid and play it down to within 100 yards or so. However standing at level par for the back nine I opted to take a pragmatic approach and reached for the five iron to play over the ditch and leave a slightly longer shot in. Even if I made a bogey I was still in a strong position.
On the whole though I've a rather smug feeling at the moment. I played well, didn't compound any errors and didn't let two bad holes affect me. I dealt with a gusty wind and heavy showers and hit the ball quite nicely. The short game was in very good order. I've been waiting a very long time to write that! Of course the company helped and it's always a pleasure playing with Ken and I enjoyed playing with Ross for the first time. I should point out however that I did set a rather unwanted trend and both Ken and Ross managed to match my nine before the end of the round. For Ross, his nine at the last was expensive as it stopped him winning Division 3, finishing runner up instead.
What followed was two minutes of golfing meltdown. I wasn't confident over the ball and should have reverted to the hybrid. My indecision translated into a quick swing and a snap hook left into the ferns and long grass short of the ditch. It was almost certainly going to be a lost ball and even if I found it a penalty drop for an unplayable lie was inevitable. I opted to play a provisional in case and reached for the hybrid. However the club must have felt the pang of rejection and behaved like a spoilt child it deposited the ball right into the thick rough with aplomb. Panic gripped my stomach tinged with embarrassment. I was potentially playing my sixth shot. This flirted dangerously close to the treacherous rough but was playable. The search left and right were fruitless and I was left with to play the third different ball on the hole. A wedge on and two putts and suddenly my partner was marking me down for a nine. Quadruple bogey. Ouchy. In my mind, all that hard work I'd done to claw back the shot lost on the front nine and beyond had been wasted in the space of two swings.
I made a fighting bogey at the sixteenth although I played the hole on automatic pilot and was still reeling from the effects of the previous hole. My five wood at the seventeenth was well struck but came up short event though the 218 yard par three was playing down wind. At least we dodged another shower on a par three. I hit a deft chip stone dead and made par. Facing the par five eighteenth, I'd broken a cardinal rule, got ahead of myself and worked out what score a par would give me. The result scared me and I did well to hit a good drive knowing the potential outcome. I followed it with a decent second and my third found the green in regulation. Two putts later and I'd secured my desired score.
When all the shots were added up, and despite my best intentions to undo my great play with two horror holes, I'd shot 82, less my 12 handicap which gave me a level par 70. Unbelievable. I thought it might be competitive but having had my fingers burned recently when I was beaten on count back I wasn't getting ahead of myself. However an e-mail pinged my account late on Sunday night and confirmed that I'd managed to win Division 1 by two clear shots. Not only that but the competition scratch score (CSS) went up to 71. My seven and nine were converted to a double bogey for handicapping purposes and so I'd also managed to get a 0.6 cut. My handicap has gone from 11.5 to 10.9 (playing handicap is 11) but more importantly is now only 0.5 away from getting down to my goal of 10.
So what are the conclusions. Well I played some of the most consistent par or bogey golf in a long time for sixteen holes. As usual I can't convert it into a full round. I seem incapable of avoiding a big score on at least one hole per round and am finding it frustrating that I make these errors. The seventh hole could be argued as unfortunate in that the ball hit the tree and bounced into the hazard but to be honest the tee shot was the problem. I've no idea what happened on the fifteenth other than I didn't trust what I was doing. should have gone with the first choice and committed to the shot.
Perhaps the most ironic thing of all was I had a lesson on Friday night and was told to change the address position and work more on the back swing changes I'd started to implement. With a roll up game on Saturday and the medal on Sunday I'd no time to work on this and so played both rounds with the swing in its current incarnation. I guess it poses an intriguing question on whether I should be sticking or twisting and going through the inevitable pain of the changes. Of course I will. I trust my teaching pro implicitly and know what the changes will achieve in terms of reliability and a better contact on the ball.
There is definitely more to come but the nightmare of Camberley seems an age ago and even the in and out round at the Downshire has paled into insignificance. I am playing better. My old ball flight which was an expansive draw at best, hook when timing was out, is slowly being replaced by something a lot more reliable and straight. The short game utilising the linear method has come on in leaps and bounds in the last few weeks thanks to some concerted practice. For now though I'm going to bask in the fact that the win ensures I qualify for the Masters competition for the fifth straight year. This is an end of season 36 hole medal event, open only to competition winners in the 2011/12 qualifying period. Before I hit the range and start on the next phase of improving the swing I'm going to have one more blast on my trumpet. Toot Toot.
No comments:
Post a Comment