Let me tell you about my first round of golf in 2016, hence the title of this article. I signed up to play in “The Game” at Ashton Hill were my buddy Brian pairs me up with a random foursome. I get there just in time to make the 12:30 shotgun where we are starting on number 2. Normally, this is an easy hole unless you hit your drive to the right and it lands two feet out of bounds. I was not really pleased, but I had no idea this was the beginning of one of the worst nine holes in my life.
It went like this: double bogey, double bogey, double bogey, par, double bogey, double bogey, double bogey, par. Par. That would be a smooth 48. I can’t believe I broke 50. When we made the turn, I kept looking at my truck. It was trying to rescue me. I shot 40 on back with two more double bogey’s somewhere. I really think I was in shock the whole back nine. Thinking about the notorious nine holes I just had, I should have been given a medal for not quitting.
I‘m not sure if this matters, but the day before I was at the driving range hitting balls (after work, of course). I was stripping every shot but thought I might be able to get a little more distance out of my driver if I adjusted the head. Well, my good buddy Bob was more than happy to oblige me. Thanks, Bob. Bad advice and meddling on the range gets me every time. If I don’t seek your advice then I don’t want it. I’ll confess, I did ask and I’m convinced it had nothing to do with my total collapse. But you all know the type. I call them the “Undercover Tour Pro”.
I am considering seeing a shrink. Psychologist is the answer. Alternatively, maybe a swing doctor, a physical trainer, or else I might just give the game up all together. That would also mean I could spend more time with the wife doing fun stuff like honey do’s around the house or shopping.
See you on the links ASAP.
Till next tee time