tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57865320679539961122024-03-05T07:48:06.602-08:00LEGITIMATE GOLF a blog about golf and what it does to youA blog about golf and what it does to you.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.comBlogger207125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-48171354712232971112017-04-26T09:23:00.002-07:002017-04-26T09:23:52.077-07:00Roadgolf: Wild Turkey, Crystal Springs Resort, Hardyston Township, NJ<br />
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A few years ago I played a rough round at Crystal Springs. When you drive out of the main resort parking lot, you pass through the front nine of the Wild Turkey course and on that day, after struggling mightily on the eponymous course--one of the most tricked-up tracks you'll ever see--Wild Turkey looked so inviting, so broad and expansive. My interest was piqued and ever since I've hoped to come back and play it someday.<br />
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Problem is, it's normally a little out of my price range. However thanks to recent aeration, some reasonable deals were offered. I'm not exactly playing with a ton of confidence lately so I figured the sub-standard greens wouldn't really bother me or make much difference to my indifferent scoring.</div>
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You know a golf course is classy when they give you free range balls with your round.<br />
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The opening hole. Wild Turkey is divided into two topographically distinct stages: "Ridge" and "Basin". The course begins somewhere in the middle of the ridge, wends down to the basin for roughly the first one-third of the round, climbs back up the ridge for the middle, and back down to the basin for the finale.<br />
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Crystal Springs boasts an excellent halfway house, that sells above-average hot dogs and imported beers.<br />
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There was hardly anyone on the course on this sunny Saturday. To get here from Manhattan is about an hour and half drive, well worth it when you consider a) how quiet and uncrowded it is, and 2) that's about how long it takes for me to get to most NYC courses via public transit.<br />
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On the 4th hole, I missed the green wide. I hit a nice chip to two feet and was flabbergasted when a trio of lodgers watching from up on the balcony applauded. I really hope they noticed not just the nice chip, but that I'd saved a par on this long, difficult par 4.<br />
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The "ridge" stage of the course is mountainous yet still very open-feeling.<br />
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Driving back down the mountain towards the back nine and the "Basin" side of the course.<br />
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Like at many of these alpine courses, many holes are separated by long-ass drives wending through resort and time-share lodging. Such courses are distinctly of the modern era in that they're realistically only playable by means of horseless carriage. You could walk a place like this, but then you'd be hiking.<br />
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#10 offers an eye-popping, almost-aerial view of the town of Hardyston. (Or is it Hamburg? They are kind of loosey-goosey about town designations around here.)<br />
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#11, a par 5, is essentially a shelf cut into the mountainside. Everything wants to flow back down to the left. Both my tee shot and layup were pushed way to the right, but ended up in the fairway.<br />
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These are the gaudy basin panoramas you see while driving out of the property, the kind that first attracted me to Wild Turkey.<br />
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#17, about as broad and open-skied a par 5 as I've ever seen.<br />
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The home hole wends back up the steep mountainside and towards the main clubhouse, behind and left of the green.<br />
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I had a very nice time here. It is a sweet course, big and spacious without being boring, visually soothing and a stiff but fair challenge to one's golf skills. An ideal refuge in which to tranquilize one's world- and city-weary golf soul. If tee-time pricing allows for it, I'll be back before long.</div>
Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-3133207586140947512017-03-31T13:30:00.000-07:002017-03-31T18:24:21.604-07:00The Last Day of Winter(golf) 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wow, what a wild ride this wintergolf season has been, right? The highs. The lows. But really mostly the highs. November through February, the entire period was positively gay with unseasonable warm weather and golfing joy, and not just here. All across the northern latitudes, people wintergolfed their faces off.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gowanus Canal seen from the Gowanus Expressway overpass</td></tr>
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If you ask me, it was too warm for a proper winter. I am not complaining that hard though; I simply had to seize opportunities on those lucky days when it did get cold enough to keep the courses mostly empty, yet not so much as to bring hypothermia into play. Over the last few years I got myself addicted to the natural high you get from blazing through an entire 18-hole course in a brisk, nostril-clearing two-and-a half hours. (Or less!)<br />
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Which makes this part of the year such a bummer. The spring-golf blues. It's been nostalgically winter-chilly lately but let's face it, the writing's on the wall. It's almost April and the days are getting so long now. Those few bits of snow still scattered around the earth, is likely the very last snow we will lay eyes on until next Yuletide at the soonest. The march towards short sleeves is officially on.<br />
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In other words, the wintergolf dream is all but over.<br />
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However last Sunday, the temperature dropped down one last time into the mid 40s, with winds up to 20 miles an hour that made it feel around 40 or below all day. And thus I am given one more chance to layer up and live the dream.<br />
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Due to our untimely snowstorms and chilliness, the turf is still languishing in a deep-winter funk here in late March. The calendar may say "Spring" but the golf course, has not even woken up or begun wiping the crud out of the corners of its eyes. Grass is not growing. The putting surfaces are still untended, full of pockmarks and decidedly unsmooth. The fairway grass, so thin, balding and matted down, with wet soil underneath, creating a most unforgiving surface from which to have to hit an iron or egads--a wedge.<br />
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One advantage of playing wintertime speedgolf is that there is not much time to dwell on such substandard conditions or the horrible shots they can wreak. In the middle of the round I laid hideous, thick sod over two straight pitch shots and as mad as it made me, the urgency of the overall mission kind of took precedence. <i>Must move onward, less we freeze our ass off</i>.<br />
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If the number of strokes (178) for my doubleheader was unremarkable, the elapsed time was something of a benchmark: pedal to the metal, I played a legitimate 36 holes in three-and-a half hours while fully abiding by the Spirit of the Rules. The only concession I made to "winter rules" was leaving the flagstick in while putting, which the USGA is considering legalizing anyways.<br />
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I had a great time overall. It was very cold but I made up for it with speed and constant motion. I'd park the cart and jog to the greens. I mostly skipped the practice swing too.<br />
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The course was as empty as you will ever see it. Might have spotted a couple of groups off in the distance but mostly it was as if the whole place had been reserved for me to play a private round.<br />
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I can't really overstate my disappointment over the end of the season. Enjoying this extreme form of the game, I feel I have re-connected with the true meaning of not just golf but goddamn sports in general. In the cold desolation of an empty golf course, I might have even discovered my self. I know this makes me sound like the main character in some gay John Denver song but I'm sorry, this is how I feel.<br />
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I'm going to miss sipping on steaming hot tea from a vacuum flask, all toasty inside my base layer, inside my insulation layer, inside my outer layer, underneath a microfiber beanie, standing on the first tee and looking out at the panorama of empty holes laid out before me.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-40545813103384677102016-12-26T15:56:00.000-08:002016-12-26T15:56:05.927-08:00Wintergolf '16<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The other day I played 27 holes in three and half hours at Silver Lake. The weather was nice, ideal you might even say--temperatures in the low 40s, calm winds, and cloudy skies which for whatever reason seem to make the world feel less cold.<br />
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The course was crowded, surprise, but maybe because this is sort of a holiday week. So at the turn, rather than continue on to the back nine stuck in this game of slowgolf, I seized an opportunity and replayed the empty front nine; by the time I'd finished that, the back nine was clear for takeoff.<br />
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Deep winter golf is its own separate universe where many of the usual golf course rules and restrictions and formalities don't apply. It is wild and free. They hand you the keys at the pro shop you're pretty much on your own. In the winterworld there are no starters, no green fee tickets to hand over, no waivers to sign for the cart rental etc. A lot of trust involved in this annual suspension of the usual rules, but then again it's no surprise that those who would who play through these kinds of conditions tend to be upstanding people. Alternatively it could just be that it's too cold for worrying about shenanigans.<br />
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A few holes got away from me, but that is wont to happen in a harsh unforgiving winter landscape. While the temps were bearable, a lot of the golf course was still frozen from last week's arctic cold spell. A lot of balls bounced hard. You needed a hammer to get a tee into the ground. Those not quite that prepared spent a lot of time stooped over, hunting for pre-existing holes. In a couple desperate moments I resorted to making a little heap out of dirt, and setting the ball on it.<br />
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Yet it was probably my favorite round of the year. There were moments of real ballstriking aptitude. More importantly I found myself deeply engaged in the gameplay. I flirted with disaster, I gambled, strokes were lost, balls were lost. I muttered foul language at imaginary foes. I punched the air in defiant jubilation. I lived goddamnit. I chased after pars with desperate enthusiasm not felt in a long ass time. I dared to imagine such feats as driver shots curving right to left. Long irons actually reaching their target. In periods of prolonged sucking, the course can seem so long and unforgiving but today it felt somewhat manageable. For the first time in a while I could stand on a tee, even of a long par four, and envision paths toward pars or God willing even better.<br />
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With a scant few days left in the year, I managed to sneak in a few little personal highlights to file under 2016. The approach shot of my year was a six-iron from 168 yards to one foot. Sand save of the year came off a downhill lie in a wild, neglected bunker, surrounded by hundreds of fallen tree nuts.<br />
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In the best moments of recreational golf you tend to suspend your usual worrying over swing mechanics. Not to say you don't still wrestle with the same issues, but you tend to set aside your more bullshit goals like having a cool-looking swing and get down to the more important business of maneuvering the ball around.<br />
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While this wasn't the first time playing in a long time, it did feel like a new beginning of sorts. To be honest, in a perverse way I came to enjoy my status over the last year plus. Of a wanderer, drifter, haunter of driving ranges. A bitter, cynical outsider to the golf course. Right now for better or worse, it feels like I am back in it. Good timing I guess. The courses are in fine shape and the extended forecast looks extremely favorable. The wintergolf lately is as good as you could ever hope for.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-27623997167386358132016-11-29T14:39:00.003-08:002016-11-29T14:39:51.352-08:00Roadgolf: Spook Rock GC, Suffern NY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Things have been a little hectic in the city lately, so a little roadgolf is in order. Spook Rock is another teetime-website find. It's located in sleepy Rockland County near the New Jersey border and within the one-hour zone of golfability. At a shade under forty miles away, we're in low population density territory which means I’m not expecting crowds on this cold windy Saturday.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge to New Jersey</td></tr>
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I don’t know what to expect having heard zilch about Spook Rock nor done any research. Didn’t even find out the slope or rating until after teeing off. I thought the name sounded cool. This is my golf game now. In a past life I would’ve looked up all such data and perused the scorecard, course photos and whatever other 411 I could find. But now that decrepitude has caught up, I'm picking out tee-times based mostly on price and likelihood of nobody being around. So far so good.<br />
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While this no-dog policy is one I can certainly understand, I have a hard time imagining how such an official looking sign would be necessary. I mean how many people are trying to sneak dogs out onto the course? Not many, I am guessing. Anyways I should find out when this so-called "golf season" ends-- I'll bring Ringo and we can play an extremely long-range game of fetch.<br />
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Very nice facilities here. The range and the practice green sit right next to the first tee.<br />
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The first hole was kept relatively tidy but from the second hole on, nature’s bounty of autumn trash snarled our forward progress, gobbling up balls both errant and on-target. A few times we were robbed in plain sight, balls disappearing into piles right before our eyes as we watched helpless.<br />
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But I am in a different category of golf participant these days, and whereas previously those leaves might’ve soured a whole round, now I just consider them a convenient scapegoat for my high scores.<br />
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That's right, I’m just here to enjoy some low-stakes casual golf-oriented activity. I’m not even too bothered that there’s not enough time to finish eighteen holes before dark. I can hardly recognize my golf-self anymore. Such a casual attitude. Maybe I should look into buying “casualgolf.com”.<br />
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I don’t know if it’s due to my newfound emotional <strike>indifference</strike> wellness, but I found SRGC to be an exceptional golf facility--nice conditioning, solid amenities and a charming layout in a classically Northeastern woody setting. Only when I finally got around to examining the scorecard did I realize that this course is officially a formidable challenge at 130 slope. There were penalty strokes aplenty, some leaf misadventures and gigantic blowup scores but a great time was had nonetheless. Hope to come back to find more favorable conditions.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-86827323148070280432016-10-30T19:09:00.000-07:002016-10-30T19:09:10.411-07:00Roadrange: Southampton Golf Range, Southampton NY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It is with some sadness that we approach the outer Hamptons en route to our final destination. I had a great time in Montauk--golf, dog-swimming, plenty of tasty food from the ocean.<br />
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Southampton is the gateway to the sybaritic East End of Long Island. So for city people it represents pretty much the last chance for beach-town vibes before you have to exit the Montauk Highway, merge onto the I-495 and back into the everyday world.<br />
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Looking at a place like Southampton Golf Range, you can pretend that life hasn't changed all that much since the Sixties. You have to be thankful for such places still in the world, for who knows how much longer they'll be around.<br />
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The driving range has kind of a traveling carnival game vibe. They ought to give out stuffed animal prizes for hitting targets, because that's really what it feels like taking swings here. I'm not knocking it though, it actually makes for a nice counterpoint to the brow-furrowing, butt-clenching seriousness typical of most ball-whacking sessions.<br />
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Jalopy buckets full of random found balls are typical at roadside ranges, but here they've curated a nice collection of mostly Top-Flites. You could do a lot worse in my opinion. These things go pretty far and that's a nice change from my usual diet of limited-flight balls back at home.<br />
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In the head, a nice tribute to one of the all-time greats.<br />
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Most people drive back from the Hamptons and stop along the way for wine, or farm fresh corn and tomatoes and stuff. I stopped for range balls. I've got a problem, give me a break. Actually this turned out to be a really good practice session. Thus with dragging feet we depart the East End, to finish the too-short drive back home.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-47280004638130823952016-10-05T08:02:00.002-07:002016-10-05T08:02:57.164-07:00Roadrange: Poxabogue Golf, Bridgehampton NY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Highway 27, aka Montauk Highway is the lone road into the Hamptons and Montauk peninsula. It's a scenic drive, dotted with luxury car dealerships, wineries, farm stands.<br />
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Within the Hamptons there are a couple of golf stops as well. I thought I'd hit them both up on our way back to the wretched city. Most people drive home from this area and stop along the highway for local wine or farm fresh corn and tomatoes. I'm stopping for stale old range balls.<br />
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Poxabogue is a 9-hole executive course and driving range (and diner restaurant.) in Bridgehampton.<br />
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I like this place because it reminds me of Vermont. The range appears to have been cut right out of a piece of farmland. Besides that, it's an okay space, some good targets out there. But beware of big city prices ($16 for a large bucket).<br />
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I had a decent practice, had some fun trying to hit the nets. Time to hit the road again.<br />
<br />Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-23399444512630615342016-09-24T14:33:00.000-07:002016-09-24T14:33:01.428-07:00Roadgolf: Montauk Downs State Park GC, Montauk, Long Island<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been wanting to do this for a long time. I first played here in way back in '06 while I was still pretty new to the game, and once more a year or two later. Considerable time passed (for whatever reason) and now I'm finally back.<br />
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Montauk is about a two and half hour drive from the city, out past the busier Hamptons. It is a modest, sparsely populated town known mostly for fishing.<br />
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Contrary to what the empty parking lot suggests, the course is open for business.<br />
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Like the Bethpage complex, the Downs is operated by the state parks department. To the delight of ID card-bearing New York state golfers, they actually do a very fine job operating these premium courses while keeping prices at bargain basement levels. Resident rates start at $26 for weekday twilights and top out at $48 on the weekend.<br />
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The pro shop is impeccably stocked. Who is buying all this stuff? Is my question.<br />
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The clubhouse reminds me of some kind of Egyptian inspired fort or battlement. It's distinctive I'll give it that.<br />
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Out the back of the clubhouse you get a good sense of the wide openness of the course.<br />
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I like the no horseplay rule. That's just straight up common sense.<br />
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My third trip around this place is much like the previous ones--deserted! Considering the high level of upkeep, I have a hard time imagining profitability here. But hey, that's the beauty of government right? Sometimes at least. Call me a socialist but I have no problem with Albany having to reach into the till to keep a place like this going. Call it a public service. Facilities like Montauk Downs benefit all state residents. Well they could, in theory, if only more NYS residents were into golf. But hey, that's their failure to take advantage, and why should we be punished for it?<br />
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It tends to be windy out on the end of Long Island. And this course is plenty difficult as it is.<br />
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There are some truly high-caliber difficult holes here.<br />
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Deer love this place. Probably for the same reason that I do: because it's usually free of people.<br />
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The back nine is tough. For me, it seems to go on and on. That's okay, I'm getting a fuller experience this way.<br />
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Home hole.<br />
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Playing through, guys.<br />
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I got my butt handed to me. 109. There were numerous 7s and 8s, a 9 and even a 10. I'd get into detail but I really don't want to take away from the majesty of this place. Who wants to hear a bunch of chatter about push-slices and steep impacts and what not? (I will admit that for the first time in my life, I had to slink into the pro-shop at the turn to buy more balls.) Sad that it has come to this but, I had a good time, and isn't that what's really important?Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-52343751878684160162016-09-08T15:53:00.001-07:002016-09-08T15:57:14.793-07:00Roadgolf: Fishkill GC&DR, Fishkill NY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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These are strange, wondrous times we live in. Back in the analog era, you didn’t just hop in the car and drive for hours to some strange area without a specific idea of what you were going to do once you got there. You had to plan. Make calls. Unfold maps.<br />
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Those days are over. Now you just throw the clubs in the car, pick a general direction and go. As long as there’s civilization around, you can usually find some sort of golf facility within reasonable distance. I’m going to show a little bias here in saying this but America is truly a wonderful land of plenty. And are there any bigger beneficiaries of her bountiful bosom than us, the Golf-Americans?<br />
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Ms. L had designs on visiting an art museum up in Dutchess County, about an hour and half up the Hudson. I decided to tag along, not for the museum (uncultured clod that I am) but rather hopefully to find me some ramshackle mom’n’pop driving range where I could camp out for the day. So I fired up the internet and sure enough found a little driving range-cum-executive course a few minutes away in Fishkill.<br />
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It’s a relief to find out that the root -<i>kill</i> is merely a derivation of the Dutch word for ‘stream’ and unrelated to any raw brutality that might be suggested to English speakers by names like Fishkill, Catskills, and the especially horrifying Freshkills, which by coincidence is the site of an famous landfill in Staten Island.<br />
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In 2016 we like to believe that we've moved past our racist, sexist, ageist discriminatory tendencies, that we've all agreed that the children, as the song goes, are our future. So it's startling to see a sign like this. It feels like something out of Jim Crow. Ah well, what can you do. We are not in the city anymore, and maybe the values are different out here.<br />
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I'm delighted to find that Fishkill GC&DR is a proper golf improvement facility for any serious student of the game, complete with a big-ass open range...<br />
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...and putting, chipping and bunker areas that are as well-conditioned as you’d find at plenty of douchey upscale courses.<br />
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Crazy old payphone I saw on the way to the head.<br />
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With the purchase of any bucket here you get the choice of hitting out in the open off the grass tees, or off mats from under the shade of the roof. Or even better--both!<br />
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They also have a full bar and grill complete with mind-boggling array of beers on tap. The hot dog I had was burnt and came with way too much bun, but the Lagunitas IPA was excellent.<br />
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This lost-and-found box reminds me that I am in a kinder, more civilized part of the world (blatant ageism notwithstanding). Sadly such things simply do not/cannot exist in the dog-eat-dog world of ghetto golf.<br />
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A few hours later Ms. L finished her museum trip and came back to pick my ass up. The first tee was open, so we made the easy decision to try out the 12-hole course.<br />
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We opted for the rental push carts, a steal at $2. Some courses back home offer them, but at twice the price and they don’t always include a handle.<br />
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I haven't seen any putt-putt courses on premises, so I am assuming that the "miniature golf" advertised on the sign out front refers to this. It makes perfect sense. This is scaled-down golf, everything's a little smaller.<br />
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2/3 scale to be exact. Here we are finishing up on the "front six".<br />
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We're strolling along having a nice leisurely time and then out of nowhere this insanity appears, the par 4 8th hole.<br />
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Which, due to its extreme tightness and an unusually placed dogleg about a hundred yards from the green, makes it one of the toughest holes I've ever seen, anywhere. I made a 9 while learning a valuable lesson in the perils of prematurely declaring a ball to be lost. Just because it looked like it was headed straight for the woods, doesn't mean it went all the way in. Sometimes, balls can bounce off trees, and right back into play. Deep thoughts huh.<br />
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It's a decent little track on which to goof around and play some light-hearted, low-stakes golf.<br />
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Goddammit I am refreshed. This was a great day of golf even if most of it was spent whacking at range balls and making practice swings. I got just the kind of peace and quiet you drive out to the country for. And I practiced, hard. So much easier to concentrate on stuff out here than back in the city. Which is maybe less a compliment to places like this and more a damnation of the golf-forsaken hell hole that I call home.<br />
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Still I have to say, I've rarely been disappointed anytime I’ve sought out golf experiences out in Rural America.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-52949852572378070752016-08-24T12:41:00.001-07:002016-08-24T12:44:07.985-07:00Donald Trump's Handicap Index<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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He may not be willing to release his tax forms, but thanks to the providence and foresight of those other founding fathers—of golf in the USA that is—Trump’s USGA handicap is indeed a matter of public record.<br />
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2013 until mid-2014 was a tremendous period for Donald Trump’s golf game. During this time he achieved some remarkable consistency and maintained it for a long time, while playing in a bunch of tournaments no less. For a solid year and a half Donald Trump never shot above 80. That’s very rarefied air for recreational golfers and Donald Trump was breathing it in 24/7.<br />
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Alas, 2016 has been a busy year for Donald Trump, probably the busiest he’s ever been in his life. As with your typical Average Joe, a hectic work schedule seems to be reflected in his golf handicap card. To date, just one lousy round this year. At least it was a good one though, a solid round of 77.<br />
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But are we sure that running for POTUS is really what’s behind this sudden shortfall in handicap scores? In fairness it’s worth considering also that the USGA’s new handicap rules for 2016 could have affected Donald Trump’s handicap reporting, as it has for many others. Perhaps he is simply the kind of golfer who prefers playing as a single.<br />
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The real story here as I see it is the current 2.8 index. As someone who is presently struggling to get balls off the ground I have to say that’s an impressive number—for any self-taught golfer, never mind a doughy septuagenarian who’s in the midst of running for the office of POTUS while also managing a vast business empire. My jealousy as you might guess is probably outweighed only by my skepticism.<br />
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Fortunately thanks to that public record known as Youtube, the swings of many a prominent hack golfer are also out there for our perusal. For those of you who might question Donald Trump’s true golf ability I was able to scrounge up this grainy 2nd generation bootleg video clip, which features a decent-sized sampling of Donald Trump swings and putts as well as some commentary from a well-known golf teaching pro.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/-JlzunW6YgA/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-JlzunW6YgA?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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Three handicap? I guess that, as with many other matters of varying importance, will be up to us the American people to decide in the next couple months.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-82978305377194958812016-08-07T12:48:00.001-07:002016-08-07T12:48:25.546-07:00Scenes from the Struggle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaOpjyMwBf29pusBdU9URJvSmu-8sthyphenhyphenezJ6leGnO2OoZjWNwymrNMDiOEB9OvkcTjkpZeiBOPDNrMTlhgJPI9mT1k5TBvyEPoxLDFE8HLfvAF_Nuy1-lLJzNfxBqCpo_9gg11iowotL9/s1600/IMG_1737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaOpjyMwBf29pusBdU9URJvSmu-8sthyphenhyphenezJ6leGnO2OoZjWNwymrNMDiOEB9OvkcTjkpZeiBOPDNrMTlhgJPI9mT1k5TBvyEPoxLDFE8HLfvAF_Nuy1-lLJzNfxBqCpo_9gg11iowotL9/s640/IMG_1737.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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For the people of Manhattan just being a golfer is a struggle, to say nothing of the steeper challenges faced by those who dare to try to be good at golf. And as I was reminded of on a recent visit I am far from alone in this plight. The struggle spreads across all ages and socioeconomic classes and its ramifications will run deep into future generations of shitty golfers.</div>
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Chelsea Piers holds a bunch of different sports day-camps for kids and golf is a fairly popular one. So for most of the summer the facility gets littered with kids' golf paraphernalia. On this particular day I walked in to find the practice green area even messier and sadder than usual.<br />
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Signs of the struggle were scattered all around the artificial turf. I felt sorry for these campers. The few kids in the program who actually like golf probably face disappointment and despair on a daily basis. The rest must be in absolute hell. It's one thing to have to chip and putt balls against one's will, it's a whole other level of injustice to sit on fake grass inside a hot parking garage while being forced to experience the game of golf through drawings and written words. I tried to decipher these sad word-attempts--which I assume were part of some kind of golf-familiarization exercise--but failed to make sense of anything beyond "golf cart haos".<br />
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I tried to shake it off and get on with my own practice. But on this day golfers arriving at Chelsea Piers Golf Center to practice were disappointed to find the facility closed for a private event--a not entirely out of the ordinary occurrence. In this instance it was a car manufacturer-sponsored promotion for which the whole range was refashioned as a soccer pitch for the day, any and all signage or references to golf around the whole facility taped over. If the business of golf really is shrinking it's hard to feel too bad about it, here in Manhattan at least.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-71971595953929198912016-07-19T14:43:00.003-07:002016-07-19T14:46:52.673-07:00Legitimategolf Style: The Booney Hat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There’s not a whole lot of actual golf going on here. Plenty of sweating at the range though. Nevertheless I need to report on the birth of an exciting new on-course style trend: going forward I’ll be wearing a “booney hat”, probably for the rest of the summer at least.<br />
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I picked up this thing at one of those big box membership warehouse stores while I was visiting California couple months ago. I had never heard of the booney hat before but it sounded like something fun and adventure-oriented and the price was reasonable--a nice little impulse buy. Plus I am interested in just about anything that purports to replace stupid sunscreen lotion with good old-fashioned shade.<br />
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You’ve probably never heard of such a contraption. Let’s see what the internet has to say about it. (These are some genuine Amazon reviews of the same model I'm sporting.)<br />
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<i>"You won't win any fashion awards in this hat, but you also won't get sunburned"</i></div>
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<i>"Looks nerdish"</i></div>
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<i>"Mailman approved"</i></div>
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<i>"I've got a big head for a woman -- it fits me perfectly"</i></div>
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<i>"I have a very large head and thick hair so I can't wear most ladies hats. This fits me perfectly"</i></div>
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<i>"If you got a fairly big head this hat will really do wonders for making your head appear small because the brim is wide"</i><br />
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<i>“Perfect for a bad hairday on an outing”</i></div>
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<i>“I just returned from Mexico, I wore this hat ever time I went outside and in the pool and ocean. I could have sold a dozen of times”</i></div>
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<i>“Will use it on the power boat as it won't blow off ...but not cute”</i></div>
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<i>"Not what husband expected. Brim floppy, more femine than expected"</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"I would buy it again, and strongly recommend it if you want good sun coverage, comfort, and are not actively seeking a new sexual partner"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"...Necessary evil. Unflattering and limited side vision. But does the job"</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>“It’s fine”</i></div>
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I was almost moved to tears by this one:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"I wear this hat while playing golf. I play to a pretty low handicap so it may keep some fashion comments from my playing partners at bay."</i></div>
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For the record I stand behind all the reviews, good and bad. I have no choice; unfortunately the hat works and it works great. But owing to that eternal tradeoff between function and form it is both ridiculously effective and regrettably huge. On the spectrum of shade-providing contrivances it is probably closer to an umbrella than a hat.<br />
<br />
With great size comes great vulnerability to wind shear forces, which bear in mind are also incurred anytime you ride in a power cart with the gas pedal pushed down all the way. The booney hat is prepared for such challenges thanks to a chinstrap and locking clasp that allow you to cinch that sucker down, tight enough to cut off circulation if that's what the conditions call for. Nobody wants to be chasing a wayward hat down a fairway, look like a pathetic dork.<br />
<br />
The overall effect is undeniably positive however. It’s not just about sparing yourself the indignity of slathering mystery chemical glop on your face. It’s about providing shade for your entire soul. Cooling, relaxing, restorative shade. With nonstop coverage of your head, face, and neck everywhere you move, being outdoors in the hotass summer sun becomes a way nicer experience. Headaches, fatigue, all those other nagging health problems associated with too much sun exposure become kind of a distant concern.<br />
<br />
In other words this stupid hat helps you stay cool, and staying cool equals freedom. Freedom to play more golf, hit more balls, drink a few more beers, whatever.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-81965965926947409322016-06-22T14:14:00.001-07:002016-06-23T18:41:55.912-07:00Roadgolf: Bethpage State Park, Black Course, Farmingdale NY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvygw2VrdM2e6BZhK0ogqUyZjSgGuAbXkUK5o0RLUj0gCQaESru6XcQNL42ey_SGEADVNwqoBhA7yrRL8LNndXj6YRAo80OfPMfOtk9_N5xU2B5KgkWe5QMIfOlKWjk4fLN2AAtpi89w5/s1600/IMG_1411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvygw2VrdM2e6BZhK0ogqUyZjSgGuAbXkUK5o0RLUj0gCQaESru6XcQNL42ey_SGEADVNwqoBhA7yrRL8LNndXj6YRAo80OfPMfOtk9_N5xU2B5KgkWe5QMIfOlKWjk4fLN2AAtpi89w5/s640/IMG_1411.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I’m currently in the thick of off-peak season, so what an odd time for me to be attempting golf at one of the hardest courses in North America. But it was an occasion I couldn’t pass up. Recently I found out that I have a cousin once-removed who’s a high school golfer in Southern California. He’s potentially Ivy League material, and so now that school’s out for summer he’s flying into NYC to check out a few universities here in the Northeast as well as attend a little pre-college golf camp.<br />
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I’m now a proud “member” of the Bethpage State Park Golf Course Telephone Tee-Time Reservation System, so I was able to secure us a noonish tee time, a full week in advance—a perk of being a state resident. But only the Red course, not the Black. I had tried, but I guess I didn’t yet know how to work that ancient phone system fast (or hard) enough.<br />
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Every day I kept calling back and checking for cancellations. Calling and checking. It’s easy to do once you’ve programmed your brain with both your nine-digit ID number and the specific sequence of numbers and pound signs that gets you to that robot-voice message you want to hear:<br />
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<i>“PLEASE WAIT,</i><br />
<i>WHILE I SEARCH</i><br />
<i>FOR THE BEST AVAILABLE TEE TIME”</i><br />
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In the first few days the only times coming up for the Black were at twilight. Then, a 3:08pm opened up. Still way too late for us but hey, seems like progress is being made. Kept on calling and checking, calling and checking.<br />
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Thursday night, two days away from tee-off, I called some more.<br />
<br />
<i>“THE BEST AVAILABLE TEE TIME IS:</i><br />
<br />
<i>ONE</i><br />
<i>EIGHTEEN</i><br />
<i>P.M.”</i><br />
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I freaked out for a second. But I pulled the trigger; I had to. It’s just a tee time, why the hell not? From what I had been told, Cousin’s serious about his golf. So whether he has fun or not it’ll be a more interesting experience to have played the Black. No disrespect to the Red course of course. It’s just that the Black is major, and it’ll be on the TV in the next few years as the host of several big-time events.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl_rilLSODczpNiIj0-K8NBkvWXifz4YrAXsFibgJMvoBBTp2yOWQVA3c3FG1d0MM1V7LKTiX7PVDgt3BDVdIlwoRo84WkwgvQ4U-ykSvVtPpSxebyT3nCMaStbK3TMUe3A2eJ8iGEEIYg/s1600/IMG_1412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl_rilLSODczpNiIj0-K8NBkvWXifz4YrAXsFibgJMvoBBTp2yOWQVA3c3FG1d0MM1V7LKTiX7PVDgt3BDVdIlwoRo84WkwgvQ4U-ykSvVtPpSxebyT3nCMaStbK3TMUe3A2eJ8iGEEIYg/s640/IMG_1412.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The State of New York requires you to check-in no later than one hour prior to your tee-time. Which seems like a long time but actually isn’t. Between putting on shoes, acquiring some grub, and splitting a bucket at the range, we had to hustle to the first tee and didn’t even have time to roll any practice putts.<br />
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The view from the first teebox. Used to freak me out but now it's not so bad. As far as tee shots on this course go, this is one of the more benign.<br />
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I’ve played the Black twice before. The first time happened back when I very ignorant of how bad I actually sucked; I had such little knowledge of swing mechanics but full of blind confidence, I managed to break 90. It was a fun time. The second round, years later, I was still quite ignorant about why I sucked, and this time not full of confidence but self-doubt. I failed to break 100, and it was laborious.<br />
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This time around I might better understand the nature of my suckage, and while I might be able to produce random squirts of confidence here and there while hitting balls at the range, I am a stranger to the golf course lately, unaccustomed to managing a single, non-disposable golf ball. That’s what makes me nervous about what’s coming.<br />
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What do you know, this is my first time playing with a caddie. Okay so it was someone else’s caddie but hey, it’s a start. Actually both singles in our group were employing the services of this kid, who's from Ireland and spending his summer looping at Bethpage. He was a very good caddie. I have to say it was nice hearing someone give out yardages and putting reads with an Irish accent. Really adds to the ambience.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqT2PikFfhLKGKjlSShaRqOpRwhBR8rMk-iDUZINZbJ29rJthQMWnNOSTyGx2ljQJGQMesb96eAQ2zoQIcCZCWWzsKcplon5dZvY4o7bY4vvRw9X87PWNzTGUhG6Ur3cV8TjWLyZTjUCK/s1600/IMG_1417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqT2PikFfhLKGKjlSShaRqOpRwhBR8rMk-iDUZINZbJ29rJthQMWnNOSTyGx2ljQJGQMesb96eAQ2zoQIcCZCWWzsKcplon5dZvY4o7bY4vvRw9X87PWNzTGUhG6Ur3cV8TjWLyZTjUCK/s640/IMG_1417.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A good example of Bethpage Black's famous thick roughs. (My ball is barely peeking out near center of frame.)<br />
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The monstrous par 5 4th hole, where I lost my grip on reality and made a 10.<br />
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I shouldn't have been taking photos at this moment. I should have been looking for my golf swing.<br />
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6th hole. All you can really see is fescue. There's a bunker off in the distance, I guess you're supposed to aim at that.<br />
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The par 5 7th hole, which for U.S. Open purposes is a par 4.<br />
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Looking back at 7th tee over BPB's sole water hazard. Funny how such a scary course has just this one puny, non-threatening little thing. I have honestly seen bigger casual waters at Dyker Beach after a big rain.<br />
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When you hit it offline, you can end up in some deep trouble.<br />
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Where is everybody?<br />
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Think I can re-join the hole somewhere around here.<br />
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One of a few difficult tee blind shots at 11.<br />
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This turned out to be a dream day for the playing of the Black. Temperature was a very bearable mid 70s under partly cloudy skies. A slight threat of some t-storms in the afternoon must’ve thinned out the tee sheet, because our foursome hardly waited all day and finished in about five hours.<br />
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The massive climb up to 15th green. The scale and pitch of this thing need to be seen to be believed.<br />
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This is an innocuous looking shot of the 15th fairway looking back from greenside, but what can't really be seen just past my bag is a precipice and a steep drop. Sorry for the poor photography--I was busy making another 10.<br />
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I effectively took on one of the toughest golf courses in the world with no swing. No swing. I attempted to approach the round with some half-cocked zen mindset, pledging to <i>“make nice easy swings down the target line”</i> and not really sweat anything else, clearly a desperate attempt to piece together something resembling a game plan. What ended up happening was I made a lot of lazy noncommital swipes at the ball. The first few shots were sketchy and from there I kind of shut down emotionally. Chipping felt pretty good though and putted semi-decent, so there’s that.<br />
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In the end I had three gigantic blow-up holes and barely broke 100. Somehow I scraped out a birdie and six pars along the way, including three in a row to close it out. On the 18th I hit a driver into a fairway bunker, but it didn’t matter because the swing finally felt good and the contact was solid. Walking up the mountain climb to the green I wished there was time go back around the front nine again. My game plan had truly blown up in my face. In the midst of making deep changes to my swing I didn’t need zen, I needed specific thoughts and feels to get me through the day. I came to realize all this in the middle of the 18th hole of course. Too bad. Time to go home, pal.<br />
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My young cousin played the back tees, broke 80, and impressed the hell out of everyone in the group with his golf game. The course tested him, and there were moments of peril but he made nothing worse than bogey, flashing some great short game and putting steely par and bogey putts in the center of the cup all day long. After this he’s off to play golf in front of a bunch of college coaches, on some mid-6000 yard course which will probably feel like a pitch and putt after today.<br />
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I am already planning to come back here again, and soon. Over the years I’ve been sort of indifferent to the place, but I’m warming up to it, the challenge it offers. And I am realizing that in this world of jacked-up prices and inexorable inflation, the Black’s resident rate is one of the great bargains you will find. Anywhere.<br />
<br />Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-4981931944840742102016-06-02T15:46:00.003-07:002016-06-02T15:46:38.840-07:00Roadrange: San Juan Hills CC, San Juan Capistrano CA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last time I was out this way, I was really disappointed to find <a href="http://www.legitimategolf.com/2014/12/roadrange-saddleback-golf-driving-range.html">the driving range at Saddleback College</a>, where I’d had some nice practices in past years, closed for good.<br />
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But Orange County is not exactly a golf wasteland and so where one door was closed, another open one was found without looking too far.<br />
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Even closer to where I’m staying happens to be a very fine driving range and full service practice center, right alongside the Interstate 5 Freeway. It's actually part of an 18-hole par 72 golf course across the road (which they call a “CC” but isn't really a “CC”) but for me right now, this here is the ideal place to set up camp for the next few days.<br />
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A nice seating where you can relax with a beverage and take in the action. (Although I never once saw anyone actually doing so.) Before I hit balls I think I should get up to speed on the California golf & travel scene.<br />
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I've always wanted to try all-you-can-eat range balls and I think that during one of my days, I'll go for it. Sounds a little bonkers but hey, you only live once right?<br />
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Sometimes it's the littlest details. That give away someone's true intentions. And when I see these bathroom doors, I feel assured that the people who operate this driving range are really and truly mad about golf. Places like these are far more than business establishments. They are people establishments.<br />
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Speaking of facilities, there's a few nice scum-buckets and brushes for your golf clubs.<br />
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The pitching and chipping and putting areas are pretty humble, but they are quite sufficient for the practicing of pretty much all manner of short shots faced in golf. There's even a proper greenside bunker. Which is to say if you’re a local resident who practices here, and you suck, don't blame it on these facilities. You can't. It’s all on you.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking eastward to the namesake hills.</td></tr>
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They play music here and while some of the song choices were a little off, it is much appreciated. Golf's meant to be a leisure activity, even while you are busting your ass practicing and trying to improve. My home range has no sense of this whatsoever. It has all the joy of an empty conference room at a generic chain hotel. God I hate that place. I use it, I depend on it because of its proximity but make no mistake, I despise it. It represents all that is soulless and wrong with Golf America in 2016. I don’t care anymore. Chelsea Piers if you are reading this, I'm sorry but it’s true. I hate you. And with every out of town driving range I visit, I hate you even more.<br />
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I need to chill out. Thankfully there's a golden retriever sitting peacefully in some shade--a zen image if there ever was one. And the beer selection is surprisingly good. Not one but a few different IPAs.<br />
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Seriously though let's get to the meat of this already. The range itself. Here on the left hand side there's a pyramid of buckets out around 75 yards, and a junky old van/trailer chassis at about 150.<br />
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About 90 yards out is a sweet bull's eye. (I spent a lot of ammo trying for that one but only managed to hit it after an unsatisfying bounce.) Then there's the high school football goalposts planted in the center, around a hundred yards out. The height of most golf shots dwarfs those things, but it's fun to try to sting a low 3-iron or wood just over the crossbar.<br />
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Sorry for belaboring an obvious point but golf is a target game, and some people have figured out that when you're practicing you might as well have fun shooting at targets, and that the targets on the practice range don’t necessarily have to mimic those on a regulation golf hole. Some people have figured out that it’s more fun to shoot at buckets, cans, bullseyes, pumpkins, trampolines—all actual objects I’ve seen in my driving range travels--and just as good practice. God bless those people. Chelsea Piers, are you still reading this? Maybe you ought try some fun targets. Hey, don’t do it for me, do it for you. I’m pretty sure it’ll help business.<br />
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Anyways I came to SJHCC everyday for four days and never really got tired of hitting out into that range. If I got bored trying to hit the bull’s eye, I’d try to lob one in the cans, or plunk the van chassis. Or a field-goal attempt with a long club. If I got weary of whacking I could dip back into the chipping area and dink it around for a while. Whenever I got tired of it all, I just sat on a chair and zoned out until fresh and ready to hit some more. This is golf practice as God intended, I'm pretty sure.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-48431199905491475102016-05-23T19:54:00.002-07:002016-05-23T19:54:15.867-07:00Roadgolf: Lido Beach GC, Hempstead, Long Island<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It turns out that one of my local haunts, Marine Park GC, has a sister. She's called Lido GC. Okay, so maybe neither of these places recognizes the other as a sibling, or even the other's right to exist for all I know. But they do share the same mother, which is the south shore of the landmass known as Long Island and the same dad, Robert Trent Jones. You see I am not making this up. They are in fact related.</div>
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Lido Beach is part of the little barrier island that's more widely known for the neighboring town of Long Beach, which is a sad little seashore destination accessible by train, a default daytrip for New York City losers who want to sit by the ocean, but can't drive.</div>
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Considering they share an architect and are both situated practically in the Atlantic Ocean, I expected a very similar course to Marine Park: raw, weather-beaten and exposed to the harsh seaside elements.</div>
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But no, where Marine Park is a harsh, desolate, people-less landscape, Lido is much more of a cozy seaside resort town atmosphere. Softer, like somehow more receptive to conviviality and what not.</div>
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The course's neighbor to the west is the town's public high school. No offense against institutionalized learning or anything but juxtapositions like these remind you what eyesore concrete monstrosities these places tend to be, aesthetically speaking.</div>
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Now this is a fun and kitschy old relic but you can't tell me that one can still actually push that button and a $6 roast beef sandwich comes out on the other end of the 9th hole. I'm not falling for that. Not in 2016.</div>
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Speaking of grub, someone had a clam party here. A strange sight for sure, but the hobby-scientist in me thinks it's the work of semi-intelligent seagulls who use the hard surface to crack open their shellfish snacks.</div>
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This was my first round after about a month of self-imposed abstinence. As such I came out with a free mind and no expectations. It wasn't long before I was entangled in an existential battle against my own golf swing and quite frankly my very existence as a golfer. Swinging free with no expectations is overrated. If you have a good swing to begin with it's probably a winning idea. If not, it's only going to dig you deeper into your mediocrity hole.</div>
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Of course, on-course is where the deepest swing epiphanies always seem to be found and today was no exception. Maybe you just need to reach that point where it feels like all hope is lost, and only then can you make substantive changes.</div>
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In the middle of the course sits a small range--no shots bigger than an iron. Afterwards I really wanted to hash out a few practice balls and see if I could figure something out.</div>
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So I went to the pro shop and asked if I could buy a bucket and the guy pointed at this awesome circa-1980's arcade-style token dispenser. This is even better than the roast beef intercom.</div>
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I hit some really good balls on that range. </div>
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As for the round I lost a bunch of balls en route to a bitter 102. But somehow not even that could sour me on the course. Lido is a place I'd heard plenty of reviews of over the years--none of which were all that positive--and now that I've finally seen it I can say that a) it exceeded expectations, and 2) people tend to not know what the F they are talking about when it comes to golf courses. So it was a nice play, and hopefully I can come back here (if and) when my swing is in a better state.</div>
Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-29030931322508144842016-05-09T15:24:00.003-07:002016-05-09T15:25:56.815-07:00Abstinence<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Confession time. I haven't played a round of golf since Masters Sunday.<br />
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What's going on man, are you okay?<br />
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I am fine, I think. Outwardly at least. Physical and mental health would probably be deemed sound by a health-care professional.<br />
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But why no golf, why?<br />
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By now I think this has become a pattern. Winter is the peak season, and the onset of spring is now an annual funk period, in which I struggle to assimilate back into the world of normal temperate golf. Slow golf. Casual golf. Populist golf. Polo shirts 'n' khaki shorts golf. Each year the assimilation process seems more difficult, and this time around it feels like I'm going to just hibernate out the rest of the season. Summer will bring its own set of problems, but given the extreme hot weather, it's not nearly as frustrating. There are opportunities to play when the heat gets out of control. Spring golf on the other hand makes me feel hemmed in, on all sides, by the multifarious forces of slow play, crowded courses, spotty conditions and weather that on the surface looks nice but is actually pretty nasty to play golf in. (e.g. jet engine wind gusts which are pretty much a fixture around here this time of year).<br />
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This spring funk is hitting pretty hard on account of the especially joyous, bountiful winter of golf we just had here in the tri-state. I golfed the winter away.<br />
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I won't lie. My golf dream is an Endless Winter. I am not trying to be facetious or trying to make an ironic statement in an attempt to get more clicks on my stupid links. These are the facts, Jack. My scorekeeping page tells the whole story. Over the last three years, I am averaging more golf per month in the November-Feb period than in the warm part of the year. In this bizarro golf universe, winter is where it's at, Matt.<br />
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Anyways, as weird and stifling and ultimately unsatisfying as it can be, turns out that abstinence is a good thing. Feeling a little unsure about my direction, I went and sought some advice on the internet. The benefits of abstinence are well-documented. You avoid the risk of contracting an illness. You avoid the risk of emotional hurt and heartbreak. You learn self-control. Your personal relationships are enhanced, and you can make deeper, more meaningful connections with people. Or something.<br />
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Abstinence, they say, can help you to understand yourself better, and also to respect yourself better. I get that! How many times have you walked off a golf course feeling ashamed? Who needs that?<br />
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Another benefit of abstinence is a clear conscience. No longer have to hide anything from your family and friends. Amen to that! No more lying about where you've been, why you didn't answer your phone for the last four hours, etc.<br />
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In a spiritual sense, abstinence purifies the soul. Frees you from the self-perpetuating cycles of lust and desire. The endless chasing. Yes I totally get that.<br />
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There are even more benefits. Actual studies actually suggest a negative correlation between abstinence and undesirable states like depression and poverty. Not kidding around, this stuff is real. There is also a strong evidence suggesting that those who abstain are likely to get better grades. Now that's no use to most of us but the point stands: abstinence is wholesome and while far from being the only choice in life, it's never a bad one. In fact I had a hard time even finding anything credible on the internet saying that abstinence is bad.<br />
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Okay, so maybe most of this <strike>propaganda</strike> information pertains to a different kind of abstinence. But the way I see it the two kinds are more similar than they are different. Golf inflames the passions. It drives people to extremes. Tears families apart. And so on. Nevertheless let's get serious here for a second. Abstinence from golf yields some indisputably real benefits: save money, time, golf balls. Wear and tear on the grips, gloves, shoes, you name it. You know who else benefits from that? Your mother. Earth that is.<br />
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Still, all the soul purification, relationship improvement, conscience clearing, consumption reducing in the world is irrelevant if one has simply lost desire. Unfortunately that's kind of where I am right now. As much as I love golf the game on a hypothetical level, I can't stand to look at it right now. The mere thought of all the smiling faces gathered at the course, laughing and joking, sweating through polo shirts, taking too long to hit a shot, carts zooming around in every which direction… it puts a scowl on my face.<br />
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So, let's just keep riding this abstinence train until either soul-crushing boredom sets in, or the accumulated pressure from too much abstinence threatens to blow up something. In the meantime I can always pound away at the driving range. Because come on, everyone knows you can't have abstinence without self-gratification.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-34143145636979862202016-04-15T17:38:00.000-07:002016-04-15T17:38:03.417-07:00Ghettogolf: LaTourette GC, Staten Island<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Once upon a time I set out with a dream. A dream of Playing Every Last God-Forsaken Golf Course in New York City.</div>
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I know, the LGNYCGT (Legitimategolf New York City Golf Tour) has been stalled for a long-ass time. Who are we kidding, it's been lying broke down on the side of the road, rusting. What can I say? The part of me that at one time longed to seek out golf adventures all over the five boroughs has, you know, shriveled up and died or whatever.</div>
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But what do you know, last Masters Sunday the old bus was up and running again, and even if it's by happenstance (i.e. the only place I could find a decent tee-time), we are now back en route to Playing Every Last God-Forsaken Course In New York City!!!</div>
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You know, the fact that it's taking me so long to complete the full tour is possibly a testament to the breadth of golf experiences the fine government of NYC provides its people with. If I can be gracious for a split-second here, I'll admit there is a lot of golf to be had within our humble city limits. Just talking about full-bore courses, the par 70 and up's, there are ten! Then there's also a handful of retro-length par sixty-somethings. A couple of pitch-and-putts. Even a nine-hole executive. (If you want to be an ass about it you could even cite Trump's place in the Bronx.) So, of the innumerable complaints a citizen could rightfully lob at this city's government, a dearth of golf facilities is definitely not one of them.</div>
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Frankly I wondered if I'd ever make it down to the two southernmost Staten Island courses. It's an exotic, far-flung foreign land to Manhattanites. If not for golf becoming an interest I can say with hundred-percent certainty that I wouldn't have ever set foot here. What few Manhattanites have ever made the journey were probably mostly golfers disillusioned with golf in Bronx, Brooklyn and Queens in search of a last resort asylum. The rest probably got lost and boarded a ferry by accident.</div>
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Anyways besides the gaping cultural divide separating us, those courses simply aren't readily accessible by public transit. By readily accessible I mean to say a trip taking less than two hours each way. By myself, the time/cost economics of golf in lower Staten Island don't work out. But today, as a twosome with Ms. L, we got here pretty quick in our hourly rental car.</div>
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LaTourette Park is some sort of Historical Place. The La Tourettes were a family who set up a big farm here back in the 1800s. A very fine farm it is said. Sometime in the 1920s a new, snot-nosed generation of LaTourettes, I am guessing more interested in partying with Gatsbys and Buchanans than grubby farm work, cashed out and sold the beloved family property to the city, which built the front nine in 1929. Golf fever took hold apparently, and the back nine was added on across the road a couple years later. The rest of the property serves as public parkland and greenbelts and some other boring junk. </div>
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If this looks like a sturdy 19th century brick house with an aerated putting green in the backyard, well that's because it is, kind of. What's now the golf course clubhouse was originally the LaTourette's family home. And a very fine home it must have been.</div>
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In a rush, I didn't have much time to snoop around the clubhouse, but they've got some artifacts to remind you that this course is old as dirt. Going strong since 1929--that is pretty cool.</div>
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To my surprise LaTourette is an elevation course. Of all the second-hand descriptions I'd heard of this place over the years, nobody ever really mentioned that. Then again people are clods I guess. Turns out this is a nicely hilly, topographically diverse piece of land. Feel like I'm in the New Jersey Appalachians or something. Definitely not crappy New York City.</div>
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These are some witchy-lookin' woods. I sure as hell wouldn't want to be caught out here during super-twilight on some cold December eve.<br />
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Playing the back nine involves crossing a busy avenue and becoming an actual motorist for a brief stretch. Obeying traffic signals and laws is a must.<br />
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Holy crap, the fabled LaTourette driving range. There are several ranges in the city. And there are plenty of courses as I said. But golf course with driving range on the same property? Almost unthinkable. There's one at Marine Park but it's half-sized. This on the other hand is the stuff muni golf dreams are made of. The next time I play here I am going to hit some balls beforehand. It is going to be awesome.<br />
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A gaping wide fairway to start the back nine.</div>
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Would you look at this, hiking is allowed right alongside the golf course. I don't like it. I am a segregationist.<br />
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Today's Masters Sunday. In past ages, our parents and grandparents would be forced to choose between their loves for TV golf and real-life golf. In our modern times, such a pitiful dilemma no longer exists. Now, enjoy both. At the same time. No choice. It is a mandate from God practically. If you are not playing golf and enjoying TV coverage of professional major championship golf simultaneously, I hate to break this to you but you are not making the most of your time on this earth.<br />
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The verdict is in: it's a fun course. I am as surprised as you are. Sure there is a slight whiff of a douche vibe, and I'm pretty certain that slow play is a regular feature here but come on, it's a city course; that's part of the deal. But I can say that I'm already looking forward to taking on it again. After one playing it strikes me as a lively challenge. Lots of different looks. A lot of diversity in elevation. Weird-ass undulating greens that hark back to pre-Stimpmeter eras. Looking over the scorecard, I can easily recall the look of just about every hole. Among the criteria of golf-course-evaluation, that ranks pretty high up there. What good is any golf course if, when replayed in your mind's eye, is little more than a mishmash of turf and trees?</div>
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From the flat marshlands of Marine Park, to the dense woods of Split Rock in the Bronx, to the dramatic hills and valleys of LaTourette, the NYC golf landscape is a lot richer than I had expected when I set out on this thing. Nearing the end of this tour, I finally start to appreciate our blessings. Figures. Now that only one stop remains (South Shore, in deep, deep Staten Island) I'm a little bummed. Soon there will be no more mystery. I will have played every last hole of golf in the city, the entire golfscape of New York City explored and mapped out in my mind. Then what?</div>
Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-68095102190799016862016-03-31T19:09:00.000-07:002016-03-31T19:21:55.246-07:00The Quest for Fire, part 1: admitting you have a problem<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I can avoid this subject no longer. The warm season is just about here, crowds are swelling and there is little of interest going on on the course. From my POV at least. So settle in and I'll finally attempt to tell the story of a golf swing odyssey I set out on last summer.</div>
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IT was a typical warm muggy late June night when Ms. L and I went up to Randall's Island to pound away at some range balls. In the weeks prior I had reason to feel somewhat peachy about my game. I had recently <a href="http://www.legitimategolf.com/2015/04/the-bogey-express.html">challenged myself to break 80 on Staten Island</a> once and for all and fulfilled it after not too many tries. Then I strung together back-to-back 77's not long after. During this spell I even managed to break 40 on <a href="http://www.legitimategolf.com/2015/05/roadgolf-cascades-at-crystal-springs.html">some weird-ass hillside 9-holer in New Jersey</a> that I'd never seen before. On the surface of things I appeared to be on a steady course towards single-digit handicap respectability.</div>
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At the time I believed my swing was in decent condition. Not great, just alright. Thought I had it under control though. Hitting balls into that dark Manhattan sky I felt satisfied enough with their direction and distance. At that time I was working on keeping the backswing compact--same stupid thing I'd labored in vain over since the very beginning. As is customary Ms. L stood behind and took a couple of casual videos of me hitting a 7-iron.</div>
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Later on I reviewed the videos. What I saw disappointed me. That is, more than usual. The ball might've flown alright but the swing itself did not look any better, or even much different than it ever had. Damn it. Whatever swing improvements I thought I had been working on were nowhere to be seen. Backswing looked as long, loose and amateurish as ever. Freezing the video at impact, though my eye was as-yet quite ignorant about swing mechanics, I could plainly see that practically nothing--hands, arms, shaft--was close to where it had been at address, to put it politely. I was a freakin mess, to put it straight.</div>
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One of the most glaring problems involved the club's shaft--the steepness of it at impact. Which meant hands coming through a lot higher than they were at address. Wrist angles thrown out the window. My waist bend was straightening out and the upper torso collapsing, probably to accommodate all that steepening action. Some basic research revealed that I suffered from a condition known as <i>early extension</i>, which by some counts affects around two-thirds of all crappy golfers. That's what I am, let's face it, a crappy golfer. In the society of golf I am a plebeian at best. A hacker quite frankly, a person whose efforts to strike a golf ball resemble a terrified-of-snakes type of hacking motion as much as they do any kind of athletic, efficient sports move.</div>
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Maybe it was the goofy bucket hat made me perceive things as worse than they were. Whatever it was I really could not stand the look of these videos. It made me crazy. Do I really want to go on living life as that kind of person? A casting, early-extending, shaft-steepening, bad posture-having amateur golfer person? Actually in golf, it seems weird to refer to people like me as amateurs. Bobby Jones was an amateur. Elite college players who compete in USGA championships are amateurs. Our kind deserves a different designation. We are rank amateurs, or something.</div>
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Where was I? This swing situation was now intolerable. For whatever reason, at that moment I went over the edge. I couldn't live like this anymore, swinging the golf club like this. Time once and for all to improve or detonate the whole damn game trying. At this point I'm not even sure what I need to do. But it's something I will need to figure out. Quickly.</div>
Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-29518028226607949452016-03-10T14:44:00.005-08:002016-03-10T14:44:56.480-08:00How To Play Golf in New York City: East River Bikeway Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Golf. You'd be surprised at how accessible it is from the island of Manhattan. One of my favoritest routes to get to golf is the one that runs along the shore of the East River and down the entire "Loisaida" (that's local-slang for "Lower East Side", you honky) to the doorstep of the Staten Island Ferry terminal.<br />
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Riding a bike on city streets with golf bag in tow is somewhat impractical, so what I really like about this particular route is that it consists almost entirely of carless greenways and barely any interaction with motor vehicle traffic.<br />
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For me the trip starts conveniently near the terminal point of the East River Park greenway. Here we are looking eastward across the river at Queens and Brooklyn, and about to cross under the FDR Drive.<br />
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Looking southward from our starting point on the east side of lower-mid-Manhattan. The green line represents the bike portion of the trip and the blue line in the distance represents the ferry ride to Staten Island.<br />
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East River Park is a popular strip for joggers, walkers, cyclists, sport fishermen and, let's not sugarcoat it, homeless drifters.<br />
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The hulking ConEdison power station which got flooded during Hurricane Sandy and left me and most of lower Manhattan without electricity for a few crazy days.<br />
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The greenway is a very good public-use facility--except for this very narrow, choked off segment. And let me tell you it really sucks ass, an excruciating little hitch in an otherwise chillaxin' journey.<br />
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It's fine if there's nobody else coming through at the same time, such as now. But when people going in opposite directions converge, there's only a couple of centimeters of breathing room between them. A lot of bumped elbows and grumbling. The city recently approved an improvement project for here so, you know, someday.<br />
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Once through the bottleneck though, things really open up. There's a much newer, boardwalk-like path off to the left that runs right up against the waterfront, but we're interested in efficiency here so we'll take the more utilitarian service road.<br />
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This is a nice track where I like to take a few laps every now and then.<br />
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Coming up on the first of three bridges to Brooklyn. Why the need for so many seemingly redundant bridges, you might ask. And it'd be a good question. Hell if I know.<br />
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There is much more to the New York City recreational sports scene than ghetto golf. There's also ghetto tennis. This is one of several city-owned and (unfortunately) operated court facilities. To play tennis for an hour on a crummy city court they charge you, get this--fifteen bucks. Gyp.<br />
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Around this bend it usually starts to get windier, and this little golf excursion starts to feel like a workout.<br />
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A lonely dusty dirt road in Manhattan.<br />
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Our route goes under the FDR Drive for a little bit.<br />
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We're by Chinatown now. On the right there's a public park gym full of all kinds of weird gyrating, swinging contraptions meant to give you an old-timey workout.<br />
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Here the road diverges into a proper two-way bikeway. Not that that stops people from wandering or standing around in the middle of them.<br />
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When tide is low, there's actually bits of beachy shore along the east side.<br />
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Shuttered building on the left was once the city's main fish market, established in the early 1800s. It had to move to a bigger place in the Bronx about a decade ago. Exponentially more fish-eaters living here than back in the day I am guessing.<br />
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Speaking of historical shit we have arrived at the South Street Seaport. The entertainment/retail aspect is under reconstruction right now, but this old-timey ship is pretty cool, and touristy.<br />
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Speaking of touristy this is a popular spot for selling tchotchkes on the lowdown. There's group tai-chi sessions here in the mornings as well.<br />
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Pier for various commuter ferries.<br />
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Heliport.<br />
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The home stretch. Getting really windy now. Maybe it's all those f'n helicopters?!<br />
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Phew, those last 500 yards were a real struggle. Put it this way, riding into a headwind wearing a golf stand bag is not what you'd call an aerodynamically-optimized setup. But at last we're here. Parking, it's a bitch just like everywhere else in the city.<br />
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Like Lot's wife, I can't help but to take a look back.<br />
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After all, we covered a lot of ground.<br />
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Hope you enjoyed the trip. On the boat ride, I like to enjoy some alone time. So I'm gonna go ahead and, you know, go stand over there now. You're on your own from here. See you on the course, maybe.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-85801689655795730082016-02-24T10:27:00.002-08:002016-02-24T10:27:33.194-08:00The Winter Handicap Challenge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This year I am once again applying scores toward my handicap during all winter months--a radical act that flies in the face of the orthodoxy of organized golf.<br />
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A lone wolf with nothing left to golf for but his own twisted ideals, I have become radicalized. I live in a region that, while not exactly temperate, is not exactly wintery either. A fertile breeding ground for dissident winter golfers like myself probably.<br />
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In my radical ideology, golf is golf regardless of what month it is being played in. As long as conditions permit the playing of standard regulation golf, a score should be kept in accordance with the Rules. If there's no score, there's no game. If there's no game, there's no purpose. Without a purpose, you're just wandering around a golf course. Unless that <i>is</i> your purpose. But it's not.<br />
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Scores made in difficult conditions are not directly comparable to scores made in nice conditions--this is a basic bonehead fact of life and golf on earth. However, tough conditions are neither limited to wintertime nor considered differently in handicap calculations during so-called active season. You can't invalidate a score because it happened to be windy that day.<br />
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Anyways here in the tri-state, the home of my particular brand of radicalism, winter golf is not considerably different from other-season golf. The main difference being the temperature. The grass remains a pretty deep shade of green and the putts roll surprisingly true year-round. The course also becomes appreciably easier in other ways. The dormant rough becomes mostly a non-factor. The trees are all naked. Fast pace of play abounds.<br />
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Winter rules? Where is the faith in the golf gods to sustain all ye through the cold months? Infidels! Winter rules for are for infidels. Inactive handicap seasons are for infidels. I'm not saying conditions aren't tougher than they are in spring, summer and fall. I'm just saying they're not that much tougher. Not so much that we should all of a sudden stop keeping score, or consider our winter scores to be somehow not real.<br />
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In the golf club in my mind, all scores are real and handicaps are considered live at all times of the year. They rise and fall organically with changes in climate and course conditions (as well as our general senses of well-being) but so what? That's the beauty of life on earth, jack. Life itself changes with the seasons. We certainly don't suspend life on account of some cold weather. Why should stupid golf be any different?<br />
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At the moment my "handicap" is almost 14. That's high but I don't care. I've been shooting high scores lately. That's just reality, man. I've also gained a few pounds of winter weight. Maybe I should just declare the bathroom scale to be "inactive" and its readings meaningless until the month of March right? Get the fuck out of here.<br />
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I've said it many times, I'll say it many more: golf is a big enough of waste of time as it is, and it is wrong to render it an even more frivolous waste of time by indulging in childish make-believe. My handicap number might be highly un-Kosher the way I calculate it, but at least it is reflective of reality, jack.<br />
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In my worldview there is nothing wrong with facing down some tough conditions and walking away with higher-than-usual scores. On the contrary, taking on Mother Nature in bit of a sporting challenge is actually fun. And even if you end up getting your ass beat, it's a way of training the golf-mind, and humbling the sporting spirit.<br />
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Anyways even in tough winter conditions, before the first tee shot's hit, in my mind there exists the possibility of a career round. If the course operator is willing to open for business, then all things are possible, right? Isn't that the fun of recreational golf? What is the matter with you? Where is your sense of fun and adventure? These are my questions to you.<br />
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Correct me if I am wrong but there's nothing in the RoG about how handicaps are to be kept. The Rules might govern just about every little thing that happens between the first tee shot and the last putt, but what we do with our scores after the rounds is a whole 'nother business. In that sense I stand behind my actions. The governing bodies of golf, let them come after me if they want. I am ready.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-30006132864979722952016-02-12T20:31:00.001-08:002016-02-12T20:31:24.099-08:00Golf in February<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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February. Winter's last stand. The final frontier. For anyone in the higher latitudes, golf in February is the exception and not the norm. If you look at the history of golf in New York (well my history at least) you'll see that golf in February is a roll of the dice situation, maybe a twenty percent chance in any given year.<br />
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There was one squirt of golf in New York, earlier in the month. The great blizzard of '16 came and went, and left behind a thick, depressing snow layer. But right that Mother Nature turned up the heat, then a full day of rain cleaned up the last of the mess. Area golfers enjoyed one glorious day of balmy late-winter golf before another snowstorm arrived.<br />
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I wasn't able to play in that window, which at the time I had with sadness assumed was a singular opportunity. The next snowstorm covered everything in a thick frosting, but again warm temperatures came and rescued the golf season. The turf has cleared, but the struggle is not over--later this week we're due to be hit by an arctic cold front and insane low temperatures. For now though another painfully brief window has opened. Conditions are not exactly nice, but some people would call them playable. I am one of those people. For God's sake our golf season is teetering on an existential knife edge. It is time to seize the opportunity.<br />
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There might be a little bit of snow here and there. The temperature is below 40ºF. But in the golf course in my mind, all is normal.<br />
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The gameplay today is tough but fair. Winter rules are for losers.<br />
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Lost in a sea of dead gum tree balls.<br />
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Tough day to be a golf ball.<br />
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The sun came out towards and it got pretty nice. Winter schminter. I could play like this every day. The goal today was to break 90, and after an opening triple bogey there was work to do. I managed to find a groove and knock out some pars toward the end to give myself a chance.<br />
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I ended with a bitter, regretful double bogey to collapse at the finish line and shoot 91, leaving a bad taste after an otherwise glorious afternoon of back-from-the-dead golf. But hey man, I got my one lousy day in February and that's all I could've reasonably prayed to the golf gods for. There's even rumors of some golfable weather next week and that's wonderful to ponder but come on, let's not get all crazy just yet.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-24995741227310111412016-02-03T13:27:00.001-08:002016-02-03T13:34:15.849-08:00Last Gas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Two days before the great mid-Atlantic blizzard of '16 would arrive, I made it out for one last round.</div>
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I called up the course, they said, "Yes it's open, but it's cart path only, and there's snow on some of the greens." No buts, you had me at "yes" dammit.<br />
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Course looks pretty actually, all these patches of the pure white stuff everywhere.<br />
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I've said it before, winter golf is sort of like wilderness golf.<br />
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Okay, here's a birdie putt on the 2nd hole. This is where it gets interesting. Since I've always believed that winter rules are totally gay and that the standard Rules of Golf are perfectly fine in all four seasons, no choice but to try and get it there. Figure out how much gas the ball needs to get across the ice and give it a go. These conditions are rare, and as such they're kind of fun to play on. Same game we always love but with an added dimension. Of course none of that philosophical crap meant much to me after four-putting.<br />
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Out on the sunny side of the course, things look pretty dang normal.<br />
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Well, that's not very normal.<br />
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In brutal conditions who can be bothered to fumble around in their pocket for a ball marker? I use the putter. This is Rules of Golf compliant, folks. Sure it is explicitly <i>not</i> recommended within same said rules, but fuck them. Their recommendations. They don't know what it's like out here! Anyways this is a legal, effective, minimalist solution. Use it!<br />
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One of the best views at Silver Lake is from the 7th tee. So much so that it's almost the norm for people otherwise playing blue tees to drive up here to the blacks for the privilege of launching one from the vista point.<br />
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I should send this shot to National Geographic.<br />
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Talk about living on the edge. The most unreceptive green in the tri-state area and I managed to get one to stick on a day like this. Feeling good. No, feeling great. So it's a little chilly. I am playing totally unimpeded golf at a speed approaching 9 holes per hour. People should envy me.<br />
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When water becomes a loose impediment.<br />
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Here I am around 200 yards out even after a good drive. Ball's not going anywhere today.<br />
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All kinds of weirdness going on here. Was lucky to chip this one close and avoid having to putt.<br />
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Crew was hard at work on some sort of drainage installation project. Think I even spotted the golf course prez out there supervising. Respect.<br />
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There was a big goose party here earlier evidently. Lots of fun was had I'm sure.<br />
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I made the putt.<br />
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Shit got crazy on the 15th green. Somehow I two-putted.<br />
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Really good tee shot to reach the green here, over 200 yards. By far the iciest green on the course.<br />
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This left for par, I missed.<br />
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I carved out an 86. I liked it. Fewer than 48 hours later, the blizzard would arrive, suspending all outdoor golf activities, indefinitely. So if this ends up being my last round for a long time, it was a nice sendoff, a happy memory with which to enter into the deep, dark winter wasteland the world would soon become.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-39224525911391680642016-01-24T18:06:00.001-08:002016-01-24T18:06:50.454-08:00Marine Park in Winter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The End is near. In desperate uncertain times, the winter golfer cannot be too choosy about where he plays.</div>
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Since it's practically on the Atlantic Ocean, Marine Park typically sees the harshest weather conditions of all the city courses. But today it's ridiculous cold anywhere you go, plus I haven't seen the course in a long-ass time, and they've slashed tee times to liquidation prices. Marine Park's probably as good (or bad) a choice as any.</div>
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In the pro shop I got treated like a second-class citizen on account of having got my tee time from one of the popular online tee-time websites. This was not the first such instance nor will it be the last. There is a serious discrimination problem going on in the world folks. The courses resent these sites for whatever reason, but not enough to refuse to do business with them, partnering up in a shameful, exploitative relationship. They pass on the emotional abuse to customers, who didn't know they did anything wrong.</div>
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Despite the top-down management issues, course looks pretty good even at this deep winter stage.</div>
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Even on the best of days, #3 with its powerful ocean breeze and constant Belt Parkway traffic din is harsh and unwelcoming.<br />
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Goddamn it is cold; the course feels so long. The greens seem a mile away even after a well-hit tee shot. It started to snow by hole seven. At the turn I made the decision to soldier on. Wouldn't you know it, in the face of strengthening gusts and stinging snowflakes somehow I started to play better.</div>
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Saw a total of six people on the course. Six is a nice number, enough that you don't feel completely alone out here, or like a total idiot for attempting to play golf in rough winter weather.</div>
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Made one last two-putt par on the 14th hole before conditions became totally uncool and there was no choice but to take shelter. I shot 12-over for 14 holes. That's better than bogey golf, jack. If this ends up being the last play of the '15-'16 season, I can live with it.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-53900182571307352292016-01-13T13:13:00.001-08:002016-01-13T13:13:25.504-08:00'16<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Despite some superior January weather, I ended up not playing any golf until the second week of 2016, needing to recover from the flu. On the day that my condition finally took a drastic turn for the better, it happened to be a little over forty degrees out with light winds--that is to say perfect winter golf conditions.<br />
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Three weeks since I've been here and Silver Lake is pretty much unchanged. The crew has done a good job of getting rid of the last of the dead leaves, and seeing the course in this ready-to-play condition is getting me psyched for the next few weeks of winter.<br />
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If these photos look off that's because they are! My regular phone died, so we're running on backup power for the moment. These retro-photos were taken using a several-generations-old iPhone, from back in the dark ages of smartphone tech.<br />
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Holy fucking shit it is good to be out here. When mind and body are sound, truly you have riches. This round feels like a gift from God. And at less than nineteen bucks cart included, a righteous bargain. After pushing a tee shot here, I somehow hit a low bullet slice around this tree from about 190 yards out...<br />
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...to about ten feet. I looked up to the heavens and asked, "What???"<br />
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Despite a weakened swing I'd been hitting the ball pretty straight all day. Then finally on the 17th tee I started thinking ahead to dinner. Because I'd had the flu and ate almost nothing for an entire week, the appetite was coming back with a fury, and now was threatening to derail what had started out as a really fun golf round.<br />
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With just a couple holes to go and all the food inside me long since metabolized I daydreamed about warm, succulent barbeque ribs, giant carne asada burritos, a pile of Chinese sweet and sour pork. Egads, being out here in this gnawing cold thinking all these delirious thoughts about hot dinners, something had to give. I made an unfocused, uncommitted swing off the tee and hit a huge, high 3-wood block, deep out of bounds. I promised myself a glutton's meal after the round, but only if I first bore down and tried to steer the ship into the dock without too much damage inflicted.<br />
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Okay, so an 86 didn't exactly light up the course. But standing there at the threshold of a new calendar golf year I felt such gladness and optimism. Normally I couldn't give two shits about the significance of New Year's anything, but right now after that long layoff and a rough battle with sickness, I can't help but to feel a sense of renewal, to look ahead to better swings, shallower planes, solider contact and loftier ball flights.<br />
Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-78095828565905996242015-12-17T13:45:00.000-08:002015-12-17T13:45:01.070-08:00Unattested Handicap Round Blues<script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//embedr.flickr.com/assets/client-code.js"></script>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">photo by byronv2 on flickr</span></td></tr>
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Once upon a time the United States Golf Association held a secret magic formula. Taking a person's last twenty scores and, after trimming down any catastrophe holes, throwing out the bad outlier rounds, and factoring in the difficulty of the courses played, the formula would spit out a number that, better than any other single metric, reflects that person's current ability to play golf. Far from a scoring average, it's a more nuanced data point that manages to reflect the hard reality of What's Going On on the course lately, while also providing some approximation of your so-called potential--a prickly concept to try and measure mathematically if ever there was. Yet somehow golf handicapping actually works.<br />
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USGA didn't invent handicapping, but over here it's been the gatekeeper for about as long as there's been golf handicapping in America. They have to be given credit for taking the responsibility seriously. They've underwritten massive studies in the quest to refine and improve the formula. They've even gone to court to try and protect the integrity of the entire system. Furthermore the USGA distinguished its handicapping system from those in the rest of the world by making it inclusive of <i>all</i> of a person's golf rounds, not just the competitive ones. So whether it was a round on your home course, a dinky executive course, or on vacation halfway around the world, the majority of what happened in your golf-life was baked into your handicap number. Thus the USGA index, for better or worse represented a vital, living, breathing statistic, not unlike one's resting heart rate or blood-cholesterol levels.<br />
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Handicapping has served all manner of golfers well for over a century. Giving/receiving strokes based on handicap indexes (when used in conjunction with honesty of course) more often than not results in close, exciting competitions, even between golfers of wildly varying skill levels.<br />
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Beside competitions, the handicap index provides a useful metric for any golfer to assess his own skill and progress (or lack thereof) at golf. Rather than getting bogged down in minutia like fairways, GIRs, putts per GIR, a golfer can take one quick look at one simple number and get a good idea of What's Going On. Make any significant improvements to any part of your game and that handicap number will respond. A simple, elegant way to track your game. Philosophically too, the handicap is a beautiful concept, one that recognizes that evaluating people based on their very worst moments is neither fair nor particularly useful. Plus it gives the everyday golfer something meaningful to strive for every single time he tees it up. Beat your handicap in any given round and you'll know that no matter how it went down, you played decent that day.<br />
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NOW, a massive change is afoot. The USGA has declared that starting on January 1, any round used to compute handicap must be attested by person designated as a marker. This marker is not just any old jackass that happens to be in your group, mind you. Nope, according to the Association the marker is a much more serious person than that. The marker is <i>"one who is appointed by the Committee to record a competitors score in stroke play"</i>. That means that rounds played alone, or alongside disinterested parties, are no longer relevant to a person's handicap.<br />
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What might seem like an act of exclusion by the Association, that makes it fairly bothersome (or in some cases, impossible) for the average golfer to maintain an official index, it might also be characterized as simply a withdrawal by the USGA from a certain market of golfers--all those who don't compete at the regional, state or national level. But why? Maybe it's just tired of stressing out about the integrity of every single person's handicap index in our vast nation. Maybe this is a step towards the eventual unification of every handicapping governing body on Earth. Heck, it could be as simple as the USGA merely trying to keep the dishonest poseurs from clogging up its own qualifying events.<br />
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Whatever the intent, it's a welcome change. This new situation will better suit the world we live in. The USGA handicap formula and guidelines are no less useful to everyday golfers on January 1 than they were for the hundred years prior. Only now, people no longer have to pay for the benefit. The genie's out of the bottle--the handicap formula is essentially in the public domain.<br />
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Back in 1950, people did everyday math with pencil and scratch paper. Maintaining a rolling average of your ten best scores of your last twenty in those days represented a serious chore involving long division and decimal places and over time, lots of scratch paper. Even if they knew the handicap formula, people wouldn't have the stomach for that kind of work, so it's understandable that most would rather pay their USGA dues, mail in their scores and then simply wait by the mailbox for the latest handicap card to arrive.<br />
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Now there's a myriad of online score and stat-keeping sites for golfers. You don't even need a computer, just basic internet access. In theory a strung-out drifter living under a bridge could maintain a dead-accurate handicap index, to say nothing of left/right rough tendency, strokes gained and other fancy modern metrics.<br />
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Handicaps should be kept, as rigorously as ever, by individuals, groups and associations, whether by the new USGA guidelines or the old. Because they incorporate more detailed stats in addition to social networking, online score and stat-keeping sites might even promote better (i.e. nosier, more invasive) peer review, scrutiny and finger-pointing among golfers than our analog-era forbears could ever have enjoyed. How better to check up on your fellow members' golf games than to peruse the blow-by-blow accounts of any and all of their past rounds? And now in this age of GPS club tagging, keeping tabs on each others' comings and goings can only get easier and more convenient. I mean, back in the pencil-and-paper age, what did people do whenever someone's handicap index came under suspicion? <i>Stop right there sir, I'm gonna need to see your license and handicap card.</i><br />
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Also, now the lone wolf golfers of the world, those who play mainly for their own enjoyment are now relieved of any pressure to align with the Association. They are still free to maintain handicaps, with every bit of the same rigor as the USGA expects from its dues-paying members. Without getting into personal politics, I think the vast majority of golfers would agree with less Big Government meddling in their everyday lives.<br />
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The new world order will upset some. They might feel unsafe without the aegis of the USGA hovering over them. But the hard reality is that the USGA is no more able to protect us from cheaters and sandbaggers than the federal government is able to prevent some high school kid from copying quiz answers. USGA official or not, a handicap index is/was only ever as good as the honesty of its user.Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786532067953996112.post-51274241009240834702015-12-01T22:29:00.002-08:002015-12-01T22:29:30.308-08:00Welcome to Winter '16<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Okay, so I'm spazzing out prematurely. But I've been waiting so hard for this. Meteorologically speaking it is not actual winter yet. And it's been weirdly warm for the last couple of months. But, today it <i>feels</i> like actual winter--around 45 degrees with some wind chill. And so at last I'm actually looking forward to getting out on the course and chasing one ball around, after months of mostly whacking striped balls out into a meaningless void with no regard for consequences.<br />
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Packing a vacuum flask filled with piping hot tea gives me an enormous sense of well-being.</div>
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When the mercury dips below a certain level, I feel like the world of ghetto golf is my oyster. I can rove the fairways with little danger of my mellow getting harshed. On a day like this even Dyker becomes a safe zone.<br />
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Tons of leaves everywhere make golf a perilous sport. Who cares? I'm flying through an open course.<br />
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This was maybe the craziest round of an uneventful year. It was just so eventful. So much crazy stuff happened good and bad. I managed to hook a 9-iron clear around a big tree and on to the green. God is Great. Then on the next hole I shanked the most basic of sand wedge chips sideways into a bunker. Despair. All is futile.<br />
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Then two holes later I had a blind shot off a sandy lie to a short-sided pin. How did I even end up here? By flaring a high, weak 5-iron into the wind. Christ. Par would require a miracle shot. But I holed it for birdie. It is officially on.<br />
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I did things today to a golf ball that I've never done before. Needing to launch one over a tall tree-line I picked a 4-iron, said "What the hell?" and sent it straight up into the sky. I thinned a wedge off a bare lie with a full swing, and watched in confusion as it stuck the landing and spun back towards the hole. I pounded a driver with a solidness and squareness never experienced before. The deepest mysteries of the golf swing tend to reveal themselves on the course more than they do on the range, especially on a day like this. I think I might've got a glimpse at a Universal Truth of Golf. Wish I could describe it for you.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7OD3mxdY03IbUQnBYbk8yg3HNWdj20BfKzvX7i0VHCw88aiU3fB7doAnbOVuwUceqMErmC5U_4jLJ0eU2tVVMsm9oSrSKter38w6rdfFRFU-4FE14ywo0bvQuuUeSh2kZmYEZwcFCDqB/s1600/IMG_0232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7OD3mxdY03IbUQnBYbk8yg3HNWdj20BfKzvX7i0VHCw88aiU3fB7doAnbOVuwUceqMErmC5U_4jLJ0eU2tVVMsm9oSrSKter38w6rdfFRFU-4FE14ywo0bvQuuUeSh2kZmYEZwcFCDqB/s640/IMG_0232.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Disturbingly big group of beginners gathered at the first tee. Whatever it is they are up to, I don't want to know.<br />
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For it being forty-something degrees it was still kind of a nice day, and so there were a few people scattered on the course. When I eventually butted up against a foursome on the 13th tee, I sped over to the 15th tee, played 15 and 16, then played 13 and 14 and then zipped over to the 16th tee, well ahead of the group. Pffft. Crisis averted. A clever, impromptu rerouting made possible by a gas engine, a deep familiarity with the course's layout, and some can-do attitude.<br />
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I'm still marveling at some of the stuff that went down over the last couple holes. It was so much fun that once I saw the front nine empty, I jumped right back in and finished it off speed-golf style, in under an hour. There was daylight to spare and in these sun-deprived times, you've got to get it while you can.<br />
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After months of trying to avoid Dyker, and all places like it, it's good to be back in the fold. Damnit, it's like I never left.<br />
Legitimate Golfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13403181693530513035noreply@blogger.com4