After the second of consecutive nines of 62, I decided to start over from scratch. First, I reread Ben Hogan's Five Lessons. I changed back to his grip, except I still interlock. But what stood out most was on Page 48, with a drawing on 49: "Keep the elbows and arms as close together as possible through the entire swing."
Doing that felt fucked up Wednesday; nevertheless, I seemed to be making solid contact into the backyard net. Yesterday it felt a little more comfortable.
I played nine holes at First Tee this morning in 47, with 3 pars, 3 bogeys, 1 double, and 2 triples. I used 20 putts, including four three-putts. I hit four greens in regulation, but three putted two of them for bogey. I hit my drives and irons straight. I'm tickled, at least temporarily.
It's 9:33 p.m. Central, and 90 degrees. Fuck. I walked and jogged the Orange Street Loop in 42:07.
OVERHEARD
"Been golfing, or swimming?"
—woman to me, when I walked out of the First Tee clubhouse drenched from hair to feet
2 comments:
I took tips from the SAERC cross country couch. Easier than reaading.
Coach, not couch.
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