Tag Archives: golf

Scheffler For The Win

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Not the fleeting kind that ends in hoisting a trophy. The real “meaningful life” kind.

Scottie Scheffler, the world’s #1 rated golfer, is winning more tournaments than anyone else and just asked at one of the most honest and provocative sports pressers in recent memory, “What’s the point?” You don’t have to be a golf junkie to watch/appreciate it.

Maybe his perspective is even more impressive than his game. He somehow knows fame is fleeting. And ultimately, unfulfilling. Especially compared to family.

I quit competing in triathlons after conducting a mental exercise. I thought to myself that if I truly committed to consistent training, age group wins at decent races were possible. And qualifying for the Kona World Championships. And these best case scenarios didn’t move the needle nearly enough for me to continue racing. I concluded, “What’s the point?”

There is one convincing reason for aging weekend warriors to keep entering races. Races provide many the needed motivation to train.

Back in my earliest triathlon racing days, I integrated swimming, cycling, and running into my life to the point that I regularly do some combo of all three each week*. Thus, that rationale doesn’t hold for me. I get “out the door” without signing up for anything. But, I suspect I’m an outlier in that respect.

*Haven’t swam in July yet. Father/Mother, forgive me, for I have sinned. My excuse is I’m allergic to something in the lake. And it seems like a crime to swim indoors in July.

Strange Denizens of the YMCA

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Dude rolls into the Plum Street Y sporting his own 7 foot 45 pound bar like it was a javelin and he’s an ancient warrior. Everyone has their own way of signaling toughness I guess. I just bench 125 pounds in five sets of five to let everyone know I’m not effing around.

Guess the Y’s eight or nine bars just don’t feel right? The mind whirls. Does he take his own eggs to his favorite breakfast place? His own range balls to the driving range? His own violin to the symphony concert? Just how far does his self sufficiency go?

Same day I refrain from telling another strange denizen that his too many to count tats looked just plain awful. Just in case he’s like the elderly bloke next to me with 255 pounds on the bar.

Better safe than sorry.

The Greatest Threat To My Future

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The golf ball rollback. Here’s everything you need to know about it. Here’s what the writers at The Athletic did not deem necessary to include in their deep dive.

There was a time when I considered myself fairly long. I was living in the Mile High City and at 30 years-young, I was in my prime physically, and could get it out there. Not by today’s top amateur and professional standards, but for sure by weekend hacker standards.

I didn’t realize how much Denver’s thin air contributed to my distance until moving to North Carolina and playing Bryan Park’s grown ass man courses.

Then, I moved to the Specific Northwest where it’s almost always wet, cool, and well, wet. Nothing like plugging your driver. And then, somewhere along the way, I got old. So the combo of Pacific Northwest conditions coupled with my aging means I’ve gone from medium-long to medium-short. What exactly are we talking? 230 yards if I stripe it.

A year ago on the range, I filmed myself hitting driver with my iPhone. Two take-aways. Swing looked GOOD, silky smooth even, but like my meany college roommate said after I sent it to him, it looked like I filmed it in slow motion. Distance is all about clubhead speed and I’m more turtle than rabbit.

And now, in 2030, the golf suits are going to make it so my ball goes 3-5 yards less. Yes, I have six years to try to hit some bombs, but we also have to factor in the fact that I’ll be in my late 60s in 2030, meaning the swing will likely be even slower.

DO NOT suggest I use the red tees.

Some are most worried about the left taking over higher education. Some, China. Some climate change. Some whether democracy in the (dis)United States will hold. Meanwhile, no one seems to care that I’m staring in the face of 200 yard “bombs”, meaning 425 yard par 4s will require driver, 3-wood, flip wedge.

I’m not sure that’s a world I want to live in.

Unbridled Joy

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I’m usually proud to be an American, but my identity isn’t tied too closely to my U.S. citizenship. Simply put, I don’t put as much emphasis on political boundaries as most people.

Which is why watching the preeminent event in the preeminent sport always leaves me befuddled, wondering whom to root for.

This year I was pulling for the homeboys because after Friday morning’s ass whupping, they were serious underdoggies. Often though, I pull for the Euros because they want it SO much more. Their collective identity is so damn compelling that I just get caught up in it. The U.S. side talks the “team” talk, but never walk it anything like the Euros. For proof, track down the vids shot from inside the Euros’ team bus after yesterday’s victory. THAT’s how you celebrate.

The event’s intensity has me thinking about attending the next Ryder Cup at Bethpage Black in New York in 24 months. Even more so, I want to attend the 2027 edition in Limerick, Ireland. Who wants to join me? My plan is to hide my passport, have a few beers, dress up like one of the Euro fans, and get RIGHT in the middle of it. The only problem is I will probably be outed once I speak or sing.

Oh yes, there’s lots of singing. And yes, you’re right, that probably means no one will volunteer to join me.

Trump’s Worst Crime?

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Adding in “legitimately” is the tell. What the hell is an illegitimate hole-in-one? Oh, I know, one the Former Guy claims to have made. I’d bet everything the Good Wife has that TFG and I are tied at zero*. I haven’t pegged it in a long time, but I’d play TFG straight up tomorrow for all his classified documents.

No, don’t be silly, I would not sell them, I would promptly return them to the National Security Agency, thus becoming an even bigger hero.

*my greatest shame in life

Now Hiring

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Tweet to ponder.

This is one of the Former Guy’s better ideas. We all lack self esteem and could use more positivity in our lives. In fact, I’m going to adopt this practice. So I’m now hiring. Since I’m not quite the public figure the Former Guy is, I will expect more direct positive reinforcement especially when on the golf course.

If you think you can say, “Great shot Ron, that tree had no business being there, the course architect is a sad (sick) person.” Or “Amazing round Ron, so much winning, the LIV Tour should sign you.” Then please apply. There’s no actual compensation, but being in my presence is priceless.

How The Former Guy Plays Golf

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From a New York Times reporter who followed the Former Guy during Thursday’s LIV Golf pro-am.

“He had. . . not finished a hole after his blast from a bunker had failed to reach the green and was nestled in some nasty rough. Instead, he had his caddie pick up the ball and march to the next tee. On another hole, when a birdie putt rolled nearly six feet past the hole, he casually scooped the ball up to end the hole, apparently conceding himself a par. Try that this weekend in your match with your usual foursome. Or any foursome.

At other times, a Trump mis-hit would simply be ignored. As if understanding the drill, his caddie would retrieve the golf ball from the sand or deep rough and walk forward.”

Hardly news. Why would anyone, paying any attention, expect him to play it as it lies and count all his strokes?