Wednesday, March 11, 2009

BLACK SUNDAY



It had been a couple weeks since the last tourney and I thought I was ready for Sunday.  Truth is, I was ready to get out and play, ready for an escape,  ready for a walk on the short grass. But I was not prepared for competition.  That's what happens when you don't practice.  Ben Hogan once said, "For every day you miss practice, it will take you one more day to get better."  With too much going on in my other life, and a new puppy, there was no time for sleep, much less practice. 

I was excited to play, having just come off my first session with my new mental coach, Dr Joe Parent (Zen Golf; Zen Putting).  When he asked me about my current game, I said I had issues with alignment.  Everything was going to the right.  In a heartbeat, we were up out of our chairs and I was given some great tips.  For this Sunday's tourney, I would put them in play.  And these visualization techniques make up the sum total of the silver lining that day.  My ball went towards the target more than ever before.  But that doesn't help if you chunk it.  I didn't hit many greens, and the beautiful surroundings at Tijeras Creek took on a darker tone as the day wore on.

I struggled off the tee.  Irons came up short.  Even missed a two foot putt - usually the strongest part of my game.  Can a single digit handicapper duff one off the tee?  You bet.  I spent most of the front nine scrambling.  I was fortunate to pull off a sandie the first time I found a bunker. Second time, I was digging a hole to China. Took me 3 to get out!  With a downhill lie in a footprint, my task was to get up over 6 foot lip.  No fun.  When I finally got the ball out, I was ready to keep digging and just bury myself in the deepest, darkest sand, whatever was left of it.  "The Horror, the horror."  Okay, so I'm no Marlon Brando, but I was living the Apocalypse Now.

I limped my way around the course, as night closed in around us.  Daylight savings had begun, but it felt dark to me.  Okay, it wasn't THAT bad.  I still enjoyed the challenge, and bounced back with some good shots on the back nine, and was able to laugh my way through the walk of shame to the scorers table.  But all I could think about on my drive back home was doing a painting to capture the essence of this mostly dark day on the links.  Title was easy - Black Sunday.


Now it's back to the practice tee.  Need to put in the work so I'm ready for the next tourney, hopefully, the Western Masters in the desert.  I like it there in Palm Springs, my home away from home.  Never mind the sand.