Two New Golf Movies

Posted on July 7, 2011 by Charles Prokop

After a July 4th week of ignoring everything that looked like work, I sat down yesterday with my new Golf Digest. I scanned the usual columns and then noticed a two page spread on a new movie that’s has been made of Golf in the Kingdom. It’s scheduled to be released this summer, as is a movie based on Golf’s Sacred Journey, although the movie is titled Seven Days in Utopia.

Both of these books emphasize golf as a spiritual, personal growth experience, albeit from very different perspectives. It’s going to be interesting to see how they pull it off.

Golf in the Kingdom is heavy on talk and light on action, with pivotal action occurring during a round of golf in the dark. Golf in the dark is hard to play, much less film. A lot of the talk is very metaphorical, and I would expect a movie that tries to capture the essence of the book to be highly unusual. The ad in Golf Digest suggests as much, describing it as “an adventure in consciousness” and something that “some non-golfers may walk out of”.

Golf’s Sacred Journey seems more filmable, with a series of daily golf lessons that translate into life lessons. The film title suggests they stick to that structure. The Christian emphasis, particularly near the end of the book, is very non-Hollywood. It will be interesting to see how they deal with that.

Welcome to Utopia, by Karen Valby

The town of Utopia, Texas, where Golf’s Sacred Journey is set, is about thirty miles from where I live. There is a nine hole golf course there. It’s a sleepy little Hill Country town that’s received an odd amount of attention of late. In addition to the golf book and movie, there has also been a non-fiction book about life there. Welcome to Utopia came out in 2010, and I felt the book was more about a writer from New York looking at small town life than about small town life. (The author has lived in Austin for a few years, but is from New York.) When the anthropologist tries to make sense of the native’s ceremony, it sometimes says as much about the anthropologist as the native.

Let’s hope that Seven Days in Utopia doesn’t say more about Hollywood than it does about golf and the book.

Posted in book thoughts | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Say It Again, And Again, And Again, …

Posted on June 30, 2011 by Charles Prokop

Dustin, a comic strip in my local paper, ran a series of strips poking fun at Golf Digest for publishing issues that are all alike.  One day the wife staples a new issue cover on an old issue and the husband doesn’t notice it’s a repeat, on another day the wife tells the husband to stop reading endless articles about how to stop slicing and just “close your stance, strengthen your grip, and hit from the inside out.” Apparently she knows her golf, despite the ridicule.

Of course, if it was that simple we’d all be experts at the low draw, the high fade, the stinger, the high draw, the low fade, etc., etc. We’d just change our stance and grip, swing away, and watch the ball curve around that dogleg and nestle up to the pin. Instead, we plan for a high draw, hit a low push, and watch the ball bang into a tree and skitter into the hazard.

So maybe that’s why Golf Digest repeats lessons on how to stop slicing and stop committing other golf sins. It isn’t simple, and with enough repetition another one of us may hear it said in a way that makes sense. As any good teacher knows, it isn’t so much what is being taught, it’s how it’s taught.

Golf's Sacred Journey

We’ve all heard how important it is to commit to a shot and execute with a clear, confident mind. It’s been said in countless ways, from Bob Rotella’s emphasis on trust and confidence to David Cook’s “See it, feel it, trust it” in Golf’s Sacred Journey.

Some of us hear it best in the more traditional sports psychologist words of Rotella, while others hear it best in the more spiritual approach of Cook.

I doubt that Golf Digest will ever run out of ways to say it, and I’ll always look forward to seeing that new issue in my post office box. I may sometimes wonder if I’ve read some tip before, but it doesn’t matter. I’m still a sinner.

Posted in book thoughts | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Go Patrick!

Posted on June 25, 2011 by Charles Prokop

Seldom has the power of the internet been so dramatically on display! It was only two days ago, the opening day of the Travelers Championship, that this humble blogger cried “Go, Patrick!” in recognition of the courage amateur golfer Patrick Cantlay displayed by wearing a shirt with pockets on moving day of the U. S. Open.

Yesterday, Patrick responded with a stunning 60 and vaulted into the lead at the Travelers. I can only conclude that he heard my cheer and signaled his agreement with my pocket campaign by unleashing the power he usually keeps hidden from public view. In his pocket, so to speak.

I look forward to seeing pockets on moving day once again, but just in case the anti-pocket police have taken control of his wardrobe, he can rest assured I’ll be wearing my secret weapon as I watch him overpower the course and the competition.

Cargo pants.

Posted in humor, PGA Tour | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Greens Fee Receipt In The Left Side Pocket

Posted on June 23, 2011 by Charles Prokop

David Leadbetter is currently advertising his line of golf shirts sold through Jos. A. Banks, claiming that they are the best golf shirts you’ve ever had or you get your money back. They look nice and they are 100% cotton, so they meet two of my criteria. But if they don’t have pockets, they won’t be the best I’ve ever had.

Don’t get me wrong here. I like Leadbetter. His 100% Golf got me back on track after a long lay-off. But I’m talking clothing here, not swing mechanics.

What’s the deal with no pockets in golf shirts? It’s next to impossible to find them now, but they used to be routine. Just to be sure I wasn’t imagining an old fart’s better world of yesterday, I pulled out my copy of A History of Golf, by Steve Newell. Sure enough, there’s Gary Player slipping on the green jacket (a pocket is in his shirt). There’s Tom Watson hoisting the Claret Jug (a pocket is in his shirt). There’s Arnold Palmer, deep in thought (a pocket is in his shirt).

Not everyone always wore a shirt with a pocket, of course. I’m all for freedom of choice, and if you don’t want one that day, or even ever, fine. But how about a little consideration for those of us who want one? I’ve solved my dilemma by buying LL Bean polos with pockets, and they come in tall sizes so the tail doesn’t pull out on me, but some other choices would be nice.

I presume some fashion guru thought things looked sleeker without pockets, and nobody (or almost nobody) carries anything in their shirt pocket while playing golf, so why not just ditch the pocket. That’s all well and good for folks with lockers, those lucky ones of us who change at the course, but what about the other 95% of us who have to make a stop at the hardware store on the way home while we’re wearing our golf clothes? Where are we supposed to put our pen, our sunglasses case, our cell phone, our shopping list? And back at the course, where are we supposed to put our receipt to show the starter before we tee off? Where am I supposed to slip that buck I won off the Chipping Lizard when he slides it across the table after the round? I want my pocket!

If golf wants to shed that “evil sport image“, we need shirts with pockets. It makes us look like wusses, not the buff and toned hard workers we are, when we wear those useless shirts. I was delighted to see that the pro and amateur U.S. Open winners have joined the cause, and proudly displayed pockets. And they did it on moving day, the best possible time to show that golfers are real people too. You know, lift that couch, tote that cooler full of beer.

Rory McIlroy’s shirt had an understated pocket, hidden inside the shirt and under a button down flap, but I understand his need to maintain appropriate decorum while championing such a controversial and revolutionary cause. But Patrick Cantlay proudly displayed his solidarity with us regular folks with two (count ’em, two!) pockets on his shirt. Go, Patrick!

Now, if someone would just come up with a sunscreen that isn’t greasy, works great, and won’t stain, I’ll be happy. Kinda.

Posted in humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Report To The Sand Crab

Posted on June 16, 2011 by Charles Prokop

I usually duck and cover if I see the Sand Crab coming, but today was different. After our last talk I had to check in with him, and I knew I’d find him near the TV in the grill, watching the Open and dispensing wisdom.

I slid in next to him on the couch in the corner and watched as Rory McIlroy smoothed a drive down 18. Sand Crab shook his head, muttered something that sounded like “moves on ball bearings”, and muted the television. He raised his eyebrows and looked at me. “Well? You do it?”

If Sand Crab had any kids, I hope they weren’t exposed to that look very often. I took a deep breath and jumped in. “I’ve played twice since we talked. And kept records, like you asked.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Sand Crab signed and looked disgusted. “Practice, did you practice?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

He looked back at the TV screen, where a couple was sitting in separate bathtubs. “You ever have two bathtubs on your back deck? Me neither.” He turned back to me. “Did you practice or not?”

Dave Pelz's Putting Bible

“Sure, Crabman, I practiced. I pulled out my Dave Pelz, worked on my position over the ball and alignment, held some practice sessions on my carpet. I even used some books as guide rails so I was putting straight.”

“Atta boy. I didn’t think you’d do it. So what happened?”

I grinned at him. “Shot a 78 and a 76, with 31 and 30 putts. Not too bad, at least for me.”

He turned his attention back to the TV, where McIlroy was rolling a putt in the back door. Without looking at me he asked, “Miss any short ones?”

I groaned internally, knowing what was coming. “I missed three in my 76 that I shold have made. But I made some that were a lot harder, so they balanced out.”

His eyebrows were flying back up as he turned towards me. “They balanced out?! You mean the misses kept you from a really good round! You don’t make up for misses with good putts. You get ahead with good putts.” He raised his eyes to the ceiling and clasped his hands in front of his chest. “Why me, Lord? Where do you find these lost sheep? And why do you send them to me?”

“So it’s not a good thing that I made the longer ones? I should have just let my score go up? C’mon Crabs. Get real.”

He leaned back on the couch, but kept staring at the ceiling. “Of course not, doofus. I’m glad you made some, and glad you shot a good score. But those putts didn’t make up for the short misses. The short misses cancelled out those good putts.”

“I’m putting better, Crabpot. Believe me. And I’m making them with more authority. I just still miss a few short ones.”

He responded in a soprano sing-song voice. “I just miss a few short ones.” He rolled his head back so it rested on the couch back and stared at the ceiling. “So why are you putting better?”

“Keeping records makes me stay focused. And the practice helps. When I started missing putts I realized I’d lost my concentration, so I got refocused and back to my practice strategies. I got my confidence back and finished strong.”

He started laughing. “You mean you admit I’m helping? I can’t believe it.”

“Don’t get a fat head. I had a few good rounds, but that’s happened before. More than once. We’ll see in a while.”

He sat up straight. “So we can keep doing this?” I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the eagerness he showed.

I nodded, but questioned my sanity as I did it. “For a few more weeks, anyway. I’ll see you after I play several more rounds.”

Sand Crab turned the sound back up. “Make sure it’s after the Open. I’m glued to the tube until then. I can fit you in after that.”

I started to make my escape but turned back after a few steps. “Say, Crabman. What were you writing on that napkin after I left last week?”

He kept staring at the TV. “Stop missing the short ones and I’ll show it to you. Consider it your prize for good behavior. Now scat. I’ve got to send out some good vibes to my boy Rory so he doesn’t let it slip away like at the Masters.”

I waited for more, but he wouldn’t look away from the screen. I could see him peeking sideways at me, but I let it pass. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

Posted in humor, The Sand Crab | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Putt Like Lyle Lovett

Posted on June 12, 2011 by Charles Prokop

During the St. Jude Classic today, Ian Baker-Finch said he used to hit delicate putts off center so he could stroke firmly yet hit the ball softly. For someone like me, who struggles to consistently hit the ball in the center of the clubface, this seems like a recipe for disaster.

I couldn’t help but think about a song I’ve always loved on Lyle Lovett’s first album, released in way back 1986. The song is titled God Will, and is about the chances of forgiving someone after they cheat on you. The refrain includes the words “God will, but I won’t, and that’s the difference between God and me.”

That’s how I feel about the chances of me trying to hit putts in different parts of the putter face. I’ll just keep trying to hit the center with some degree of reliability.

 

 

Posted in daily golf issues, humor | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Golf On the Rocks

Posted on June 10, 2011 by Charles Prokop

It was too hot for me to enjoy my usual skins game today, so I decided to take a few pictures I’d been planning to get ever since my post related to Kevin Na’s 16 on a par 4 in the Valero Texas Open.

I love living and playing golf here in the Texas Hill Country, but it does have one disadvantage: the ground has a lot of rocks in it. Get in the rough at some courses and you can find yourself deciding if a heroic shot is worth club damage. Sometimes rocks are visible and you can choose to try to hit it or take an unplayable. Other times you can get surprised by a buried rock.

rock damage on pitching wedge sole

This is a picture of the sole of my old pitching wedge. Note the dings and chips on the leading edge. Most of the other clubs in my old set look much better, but this pitching wedge was a commonly used club when I found myself needing to escape the rocks.

The wedge on my new set is still relatively pristine and I plan on keeping it that way. I’ve learned to pick questionable shots clean with additional experience in the rough.

rock damage on pitching wedge face

I’m not too sure how this ding got on the face of my old pitching wedge. You’d think I would have noticed when I hit whatever made that gash near the toe, but I don’t remember it. I used to have trouble with the toe of the club digging into the ground on some shots, and I suppose that’s how it happened.

My new irons are fit to my height (they’re 1/2 inch long and 2 degrees upright) so I don’t dig the toe anymore. If anyone’s wondering if it’s worth going to the trouble of getting your irons fit to your body and swing, it is. Not only am I much less likely to dig the toe, I’m also more likely to hit it straight and avoid the rocks all together. My new irons should last longer and stay in better shape than did my old set. That’s the plan, anyway.

Posted in daily golf issues | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

The Sand Crab Project

Posted on June 8, 2011 by Charles Prokop

If I had been watching the door instead of slipping my wolf profits into my wallet I might have escaped. As it was, the Sand Crab spotted me before I could duck out the back door of the grill.

“Hey, you got a minute?” he called. I pointed at my putter and then at the putting green visible through the glass door, hoping he’d get the message. No such luck. “It’s too hot out there,” he said. “I’ll buy my best friend a beer if I can ask him a few questions.”

“I’m all tapped out, Crabman. I can’t spare any cash.”

He chuckled and scratched behind his ear. “I saw you pocketing that lettuce while I walked up, but that’s not it. I just want to talk golf.”

I know when I’m beat, so I walked over to his usual table in the corner. As he sat down he pushed a beer over to me. “You play a lot of golf, right?” I nodded as I took my first sip of beer. “So you must enjoy it?” I nodded again. “You know why?”

“Why I enjoy golf?” I asked.

It was his turn to nod. “Uh-huh. It’s frustrating, eats time and money, you screw up a lot even when you get good, and you have to keep practicing to stay half-way decent. What’s to enjoy?”

“You thinking about hanging up your sticks, Crabby? If you are, I’d love to have that putter of yours.”

He shook his head so hard I thought the ball marker on his cap was going to fall off in his beer. “No, no. I love it. Love the game.” He winked. “Really love my putter.”

“So what’s this about, Sand Crab? Why the sudden interest in why I play?”

He pointed out the window toward the ninth green. The flag was hanging limply in the mid-summer heat. The only sign of life was a squirrel digging in the sand of the greenside bunker.

“I was out there a few hours ago, pretty close to where that bushy tailed tree rat is now. Needed to get up and down from the sand for a bogey. I used to do that all the time, but for pars. I didn’t care a lot today because nothing was on it, but I cared a little. It’s knda my signature, you know.”

“It’s how you got your nickname, isn’t it? You were the Sand Crab when I got here.”

“Not really. I got the name because I whined so much about being in the sand. But I was there a lot since I was an expert at missing greens, so I had to learn how to get up and down from there.”

“You did it,” I said.

“Thanks for noticing. Anyway, I read that post of yours from a few days ago. The one about you not warming up much. I don’t see you practicing too much either.” His raised eyebrow got my attention.

“So?”

“That’s what I’m asking you. If you enjoy the game, why don’t I see you out there more?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know, Crabpot. I guess it doesn’t fit my schedule that well. But I was heading to the putting green a minute ago, you know.”

He grinned and spun his coaster around on the table. “If you weren’t just trying to dodge me.” He hesitated and then squinted up at me. “What’s your handicap now?”

“A 7.2 index.”

Harvey Penick's Little Red Book

“You know what old Harvey Penick said about guys who play like you? You gotta practice the short game if you want to really get better. I’ve seen you putt. Harvey was right.”

“I suppose you followed Harvey’s instructions?”

The Sand Crab seemed to go somewhere deep inside himself. I waited while he gazed vacantly out at the first tee and the ninth green in the distance. When he came back from wherever he’d been he was smiling. “A long time ago, yeah. With me it was sand shots and chipping. I could always putt. The short game’s about all I can do now.”

I started to say something, but he stopped me. “Don’t try to make me feel better. It’s true. I have fun, but my game won’t ever be the same again. It happens to all of us, if we’re lucky.” He finished his beer, leaned his chair back on two legs, and pointed at me. “I want you to practice putting. Warm up on the putting green before your rounds. Keep track of your scores and your putts. Report to me every few weeks.”

“Why?”

“Why not? It’ll entertain me and might help you. Humor an old fart, will ya’?”

“So it’ll be like The Haney Project?”

“Except that I don’t know what I’m doing and you ain’t famous, it’ll be just like it. You’ll do it?”

“Why not, Sand Crab? I’ll report to you next week, or after a few rounds. Thanks for the beer.” I got up and left the grill. When I looked back I saw him pull a napkin out of the holder and start to write on it. I was afraid to go back and see what he was writing.

Posted in humor, The Sand Crab | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I Could Never Practice

Posted on June 5, 2011 by Charles Prokop

When Mark Brooks was interviewed after his second round at the Principal Charity Classic he said he would stay off the practice putting green before his final round. He thought he left a lot of putts short because the practice green was faster than the greens on the course.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’d never be able to use a practice green if I required it to be the same speed as the greens on the course. I’d love it if they were the same speed, but my world doesn’t include that level of consistency. If I hit the practice green it’s to groove my stroke a bit and see if I’m hitting it generally in the direction of my target. I usually don’t even putt at a cup. That seems to keep me focussed on the stroke rather than the hole, and getting close to the hole means speed counts.

It’s kind of the same way I use the range before a round, if I use one at all. Try to find my swing; see if I’m hitting it right, left or straight today; try to end with a good drive so I can go to the first tee with that as my last mental image.

It’s pointless to try to judge how long I’m hitting it based on the range. Leaving aside trying to judge where they’ve moved the range tees today in relation to the distance markers, my courses don’t give me a bucket of fresh Pro-V1’s. They give me what I’m sure most of you get, and it’s anybody’s guess whether I’ll get rocks or marshmallows. Every now and then I can tell I’ve lucked into a new crop of range balls, and I’m in heaven.

And what’s to be learned from hitting off those mats some places use? Irons bounce and the little rubber tees may or may not have anything to do with how I tee the ball. (Apparently the problem is universal. The photo below is from a driving range in Zurich, Switzerland. The guy is either hitting off of concrete or rubber mats, as near as I can tell.)

Dolder driving range on Adlisberg in Zürich (S...

Image via Wikipedia

So I often stick to a simple warm-up routine. It involves a little coffee (or something colder for a later round), some jokes, some stretches, and a practice swing or two on the tee. It may not be ideal, but at least I’m not confused by the speed of the first green. I may be surprised, but I’m not confused. Surprise is better than confusion.

At least that’s what I tell myself. It beats telling myself I’m lazy. And it’s awful to go to the first tee expecting to hit it or putt as poorly as I did in that last few minutes of practice. Surprise is better than dread, too.

 

Posted in daily golf issues | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

I Should Be Committed

Posted on June 4, 2011 by Charles Prokop

We all hear how we need to commit to the shot, but how about needing to commit to the entire round?

I had a lot I should have done yesterday – some chores I needed to do and some other things I both wanted to do and needed to do. But I missed the Friday skins game last week, so I played in this week’s game instead of doing what I needed to do.

I was distracted, and opened the round with two three putts. I followed that with a poor drive and a bladed wedge to an unplayable lie, so by the fifth hole I needed to shoot one over the rest of the way to shoot my handicap. After two straight pars and a glimmer of hope, I got a lie that the Chipping Lizard described as the worst he’d ever seen in his life. The round continued to deteriorate from there.

You can imagine the thoughts going through my mind. “What am I doing out here today? I knew I shouldn’t have played. I’m never going to do something stupid like this again.” Occasionally I’d pull myself back to the game, remind myself it really didn’t matter, try to enjoy the day and my friends, it’s a skins game and I just need one good hole, etc. Then I’d slice one out of bounds.

Of course, I finished the round with three straight pars on a difficult stretch that has often destroyed good rounds. That was highlighted with a par on the 16th that featured a push-slice drive that somehow stayed in bounds, and a pulled and bladed wedge that ricocheted off a tree onto the green, followed by a routine two putt for a par. That won a miracle skin when no one else managed a par.

So what are the lessons here?

1. Good play is highly unlikely without commitment to the round.

2. Never give up. It’s always possible to get blind lucky, irritate your friends, and take their money.

3. Remember why you play. Try to have fun, or don’t bother to play. It’s cheaper that way.

Posted in daily golf issues, humor | Tagged | Leave a comment