FIR, Fringe in Regulation

Things are looking up for your old pal. I was half-watching some local tube on the YES (Yankees' Entertainment and Sports) Network the other night and just about had my mind blown out when a commercial for the Silver Lake Golf Course came on. Not just to see my regular course splashed all over the TV screen, but also to find out the course has launched a free shuttle service to and from the ferry terminal.

I called ahead, asked for the ride and sure enough it was actually there. I was surprised that it a) existed and 2) showed up. Not only that but the driver was exceedingly cheerful and welcoming. While I am not complaining, this is all quite weird. Seeing as how in all my many ferry boat trips to play golf on the island I can count the number of other golf bags I've seen coming from Manhattan on one hand, the only logical conclusion is that this ferry service exists primarily to serve me.

Greens are near peak condition.

The starters too, have also been showing me favor, God knows why. Today there was a big outing and I was allowed to get out ahead of it, as well as a couple of slow miscellaneous groups.

After finding the fringe for about the seventh time on the day I started to get down on myself, to entertain dangerous, pointless thoughts about my playing a lot crappier than the score indicated at the time.

But this is why the golfer needs to think like a crack-addicted burglar: greedy, singleminded, amoral, completely unencumbered by remorse or propriety. You should not only steal strokes--you should feel righteous about it. This is the only way to play. Once upon a time I used to do just that, breaking 80 regularly without ever bothering to use the center of the clubface and apologizing to no one for it.

It occured to me that I have maybe grown staid. Thinking inside the box, shackled by an overly orthodox view of how this game ought to be played. Mentally I tried to slap myself in the face and right my attitude before I completely blow this chance at carding a good score.

Propped up by my questionable mental state, sure enough the last three holes got wobbly and on the the 18th I chopped it around in truly low rent fashion, needing four crummy shots just to get on the surface. But still I managed to set up a little putt to salvage bogey and shoot a personal best round on this course.

One last putt for a 7-over 77.

Summoning my last reserve of focus I found a way to put the ball in the hole. Seems like just yesterday I was challenging myself to break 80 at this joint, and now I've done it for the second time in three rounds. The worm could be turning. The entire narrative of this blog could be due for some big changes. Stay tuned.