A flurry of activity lately. Weather's been hitting the sweet spot lately--around 40º with windchills. That's about the line that separates the hobbyists and the truly afflicted. This is what I've waited all year for, right? Time to get out there and get it, by train, bus or boat.
First up Silver Lake. Autumn splendor quickly turning into deep, ruddy winter shades.
Seen a ball anywhere? These days it's a challenge just to not lose your shit in broad daylight.
Looking down the penal 17th hole with OB right.
Dang, my ball was wily today, worming its way out of a few dangerous situations. I hit it decent overall, but had some putting issues. I was feeling a little freaked out with putter in hand--no way to go through life. Another round in the 80s. In this windy cold I suppose that's not horrible. In my mind though, these scores represent a slump.
There were a few roadblocks to maneuver around (slow play, some guy wandering from fairway to fairway hitting practice shots) but I have made it to the home stretch and the coast looks clear. But I need to take this all in, give thanks for the opportunity--this for me, it's the best time of the whole goddamn golf year. Now, I will have to hustle to beat the darkness: five holes and about forty minutes to sunset. With all I went through just to get here, no way in hell I am not going to finish 18 holes. Press on.
Another round, another mid 80's. Feeling locked in a pattern of mediocrity lately. I feel good about my swingin', but scores seem hard to find out there. Maybe I'm just getting softer but the game seems perilous out there lately. It's cold, it's windy; I should be used to that by now. Somehow though the targets seem smaller. The ball seems smaller too, and more squirrelly. The dividing line between pars and bogeys seems to get finer every day. Birdie chances, rare.
But no complaining. We are lucky to be teeing it up here. Just keep banging away.