I almost cost a co-worker three bicuspids and an incisor last week. I was leaving the office bathroom, daydreaming about fresh azaleas and firethorns (for multiple reasons), when I came upon a difficult lie in the pine straw-colored hallway. The walkway back to ROI bent like Bubba’s 2012 playoff wedge on 10, a harsh 75- degree angle only a punch 4-iron could conceivable conquer. I paused, hands on hips, visualizing the shot and giving an eye-level brick a cocky nod as I exhaled to collect myself. Trust me caddie, brick. After an exaggerated waggle and last shimmy of the hips, I pulled the trigger and swung into glor…
“Holy s@#$, what the hell are you doing man?!” an exasperated finance guy Larry exclaimed. You almost took my head off! What was thaaaat?!”
Larry doesn’t play golf. He didn’t know a 4-iron punch was the only way to make it back to the corner green (office). “Wow, sorry man, that was, uh, nothing.”
Nothing to him. Those of us obsessed with golf know that was a necessary escape from spreadsheets and timelines. Especially at a time of year when the local 18 is still a little hairy and hungover from a particularly harsh winter bender.
Augusta flowers > Chicago flowers
Here are a front nine worth of thoughts I have in normal, everyday settings when I’m not golfing, but wish I was. If you golf, you probably have them, too.
- Wow, that grass looks fresh
I love you bentgrass. Flyers for days. Hey Rickie Fowler, we hit our 8-irons the same distance, and I didn’t have to change my swing. Is anyone looking? I need to touch that grass.
- Tee box is a little narrow
Who do I look like greens keep, Jim Furyk? How am I supposed to get my size sextuple bogey Dry Joys in that tee box? And BTW, nothing is worse than an uneven box. A little more attention to detail there Carl Spangler. I have a reoccurring dream where I’ m playing in the final round of The Masters with Dustin Johnson, my name is called, and I can’t get my tee to stay in the ground, so that concrete box really makes me shudder.
- Simple power draw required here
First off, gotta love cobblestone streets. I imagine a pub outside St. Andrews looking like this. What I would give to toss back a few pints of warm Timothy Taylor and talk with Peter Alliss right now.
Secondly, if this street were a fairway, I could totally hit it. It’s probably a little slimmer than the average short grass. Set up a little right, take it a back a little inside, #boom. Tips imaginary hat. Have fun hitting first Old Tom Morris.
- Could I flop it in this fountain?
Excuse me sparrows, two-skip 60-degree Cleveland 588 comin’ in hot. Bird man, bird man.
- Is this hardwood floor faster or slower than Augusta’s greens?
It’s probably pretty similar. I need to find out. How do I get invited to play Augusta? This job isn’t gonna get me there. My friends’ parents aren’t exactly friends with Condoleezza Rice. Damn.
- I could be forgetting about proper alignment
Alignment is the foundation of any swing. Who needs a fancy stick? This setup looks pretty good. At worst, gonna come slightly over the top for a power fade. Got to head to the range tonight to test this out. If that doesn’t work, is it time for a lesson? Nah, Bubba didn’t take lessons. Probably time for a shoe polish though.
- Trees are 90% air
Got at least three windows here. Going to listen to caddie Bombay and go punch draw through that Mighty Ducks flying v and trickle my Titleist onto the front edge. Still making par.
- What time is sunset officially?
We’ve got two more holes left, easy. I hear playing in the dark improves your feel. Help me watch my ball.
- Is my swing on plane?
Any reflection I find in life might as well be a PGA-licensed professional. Can’t help it. At the gym, I’m doing just as many three-quarter 7-irons in front of the mirror as I am bicep curls. (The only exercise I do more sets of is tricep pull downs. Not sure if you knew, but triceps are the key to distance. )
“Um, excuse me, sorry to interrupt, m’am.“
“Do you need a spot?”
“No, just wondering – am I past parallel here?”