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Golfing Thanks

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November 20, 2011 - Leaner, Hairier and Thankful.
November 20, 2011 – Leaner,
Hairier and Thankful.

I was eating dinner at a restaurant in Cancún, México one Thanksgiving (I know…of all the sacrilegious things an American can do) when a middle-aged English chap at the next table blurted-out in my direction; “I can tell by your accent that you’re American, right?”

When I responded in the affirmative, he proceeded to ask the following question: “What’s this whole Thanksgiving thing about anyway?” My tongue-in-cheek response was that we (Americans) were celebrating getting away from you (the British). On that note, we all had a quick chuckle, another sip of our Mojitos and then promptly got into an argument over turkey.

You see, he claimed that turkeys were native to England since (obviously and logically) “people have been eating turkey dinner on Christmas in England for hundreds of years.” I, on the other hand, explained that turkeys were from the Americas and were brought over to England in the early 16th-century. On that point, we agreed to disagree.

But being away for Thanksgiving that year got me thinking about what this holiday really means. Sure, we all are thankful for our health, our family and the ability to put food on the table – these are all obvious things to be thankful for. But I’m not sure it really hits home until your health, someone in your family or that steady job goes away.

This year I’ve had some (albeit minor) health issues, to which I’ve taken steps to correct. But those issues kept me off the links for good amount of time – enough time to realize that golf (for me anyway) is a little bit of therapy – It’s a reminder of all that’s good in this world and if you can get yourself back out on the course, the healing process is complete (I’m sure Stinky Golfer Pete, whose health issues this season were far more serious than mine, would agree).

This past weekend, my healing process finished – I played golf for the first time in months. I played with my father, who at 76, hadn’t hit the links in two years and wasn’t sure he’d even be able to finish our 9-hole round (he would have been content to quit when he got tired and follow me in the cart for the rest of the round). Well, I’m happy to report he not only finished all 9-holes, but played better than expected to boot. As for me, I walked all 9 sans any gout pain in my foot. And I too shot better than expected (not my best round ever, but it could have been far worse).

So, as I settle in tomorrow to eat, drink and watch the Packers crush the Lions (and hopefully my Dolphins sneak past the Cowboys); I’ll be thankful. Not just for my health or my family or even for golf. I’ll be thankful for all of it.

Happy Thanksgiving.

And to our readers in the UK: Turkeys are as American as Pumpkin Pie (yes, pumpkins are from here too…).

Stop Bitching About Not Playing Enough Golf

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I’m a hypocrite. I’m the one who wrote the title of this post. I’m also the one doing most of the bitching.

To those who know I play golf, it’s the same old sob story – they ask how my golf season was and my answer, “that I’ve hardly played golf this year” sounds as though I’m someone in mourning.

And perhaps I am. I’m mourning the death of what was once a spring, summer and fall packed with golf nearly every weekend. But this year that’s all changed. I haven’t played since early August, which seems like eons ago. I explained the reasons for my dearth of golf in this post from September.

Autumn is typically my favorite time of year to play – the bright colors of New England trees, the crisp air – yet sadly this fall, I haven’t stepped one-foot on a tee-box, fairway or green. Not because of the gout (I’ve shed 15 pounds now and have been hobble-free for a few months), but for a multitude of other things, including a freak October snow storm.

My aguish over not playing has gotten so bad that I recently thought to myself; “so this is how it would be if I quit golf altogether.” Seriously, thinking of myself standing on a tee-box getting ready to hit is almost surreal for me these days…what was it like to hit a perfect tee shot on a bright sunny day? I’m not really sure I know anymore.

Ah, but this is all bull shit, isn’t it? We weekend hacks are stuck in a catch 22 – we don’t play enough so we are hacks. We’re hacks because we don’t play enough. We could go on and on. But the truth is we are husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, homeowners, employees, supervisors, vice presidents and grandparents. In other words; we have lives.

And in most cases, the parenting, managing and maintenance takes precedence over golf – not just because these things have to come first, but often because we want them to come first (like spending time with my 1-year-old, for instance). Would we love to be out on the course more often? Of course. Is that realistic? Not for many. So we lace-up the soft spikes when we can and sign a scorecard that ends up looking like we went bowling instead. It is what it is.

So when you do get a chance to play, why beat yourself up over how bad you shoot? The fact that you’re out there having fun; enjoying the day; enjoying the camaraderie; and having some “me” time – isn’t that really what this game is all about?

Yes, I’ve played only 7 times this season and yes, I’ve complained about it.

But I’m a hypocrite no longer.

What’s Your Most Interesting Golf Story?

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One of your golf bio questions on Golfstinks.com (yes, you have your own golf bio when you become a member) is “what’s your most interesting golf experience.” Well, we’ve been getting some pretty good stories from the members thus far and wanted to open this up to our blog community too.

Let me break the ice by telling my very true tale…

It was the Friday of Memorial Day weekend 2001. A few friends of mine (one of which would later be known as Stinky Golfer Chris) were on a puddle jumper going from Charlotte to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. The plan was as follows: Land. Play 18-holes. Eat. Sleep. Play 36-holes. Eat. Sleep. Play 9-holes. Fly back to Connecticut so we could get a good night’s sleep before work on Monday (as you could see, there really wasn’t much time to spare).

So we landed. We played 18-holes at Shipyard Golf Club and since not many people were out on the course that day, we actually finished our round earlier than expected. With daylight to spare, we headed back to the oceanfront condo (Stinky Golfer Chris’ rich uncle let us crash at his summer place) to do a little boogie-boarding before dinner.

So there we were – our foursome splashing and playing in the surf like 6-year-olds – when a wave knocked me off my boogie-board and I fell backwards into the water. I was close to the beach and the water was only about three feet deep. My right hand found the sandy bottom and then it happened – a sharp stabbing pain between my thumb and index finger.

At first, I had no idea what hit me. But I was bleeding from a half-inch gash on top of my hand which seemed to be pretty deep. The pain was pretty bad too. On top of the cut itself hurting, the salt water was making matters worse.

My initial thought was I hit a sharp rock, or perhaps a crab pinched me. But then I felt it – a sting ray brushed by my leg and I was fairly certain that’s what got me. “Oh God, aren’t those things poisonous?” I thought to myself. It’s a good thing the Steve Irwin incident hadn’t happened yet otherwise I would have been freaking out.

By now I was trudging to the beach as fast as I could, worried that my bleeding hand was chumming the water for Great Whites. Despite screaming “AHHHH” when it first happened, none of my foursome seemed particularly concerned about the Jaws scene unfolding in front of them. I distinctly remember one of them still laying out on a beach chair when I pulled myself ashore.

By now it was dinner time, and that (not my throbbing and still bleeding) hand seemed to be the priority. “Sure, I’ll man-up and go to dinner with you guys. Let me just ice-it, wrap-it and we can go” I told them. And that’s what I did. Iced it for about 15 minutes, wrapped it in some gauze (still bleeding, and now slightly discolored in a purplish hue) and off we went to the Outback Steakhouse.

Towards the end of dinner, I announced the pain wasn’t letting up any. I could tell this annoyed them as they had their hearts set on a few more Foster’s before heading home. But when I showed them it was still bleeding – 3 hours later, I think they finally realized they needed to deal with my bitching.

So off to the emergency room we went, where I explained to the nurse what happened. She took one look and exclaimed, “Yep, that was a Stingy. Basically you have two choices. You can stay here and we’ll admit you overnight or you can go home and submerge it in hot water.”

Hot water? I was icing the freaking thing! Turns out hot water (as hot as you can stand it) draws the toxin out (which from the sting ray, by the way, is not fatal – Mr. Irwin died because it stung him in the heart). In addition to the hot water, I needed to visit a medical center the next day to have a doctor see if I needed stitches or antibiotics or both. Crap – there goes one of our tee-times.

The guys were cool though – they came to the doctor’s with me (we missed our morning round) and fortunately, I didn’t need stitches (I did get antibiotics though). Even better, since it was on the top of my hand, it didn’t interfere with my swing! We finished our stay on Hilton Head playing at the beautiful Palmetto Dunes and even more alluring Sea Pines.

A decade later I still have the scar, and the skin around it is still slightly discolored. But, a few years ago, I was at a restaurant that had sting ray on the menu…revenge never tasted so good.

So, what’s your story?

Is Golf Still Fun When it’s Freezing Out?

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An early end to the golf season this year?
An early end to the golf season this year?

So it’s Halloween and as I pen this post, there’s 3 inches of snow outside. As some of you may know, the Northeast got hit with a pretty big snow storm Saturday (where I live, the snow drifts reached a whopping 5 inches)!

OK, so I realize that’s not a lot of snow for Connecticut. But for October, it’s a tremendous amount of snow. In fact, I don’t ever remember this much snow prior to Halloween…ever. Temps are supposed to rise a bit this week and my guess is the snow will be melted by tomorrow, but that’s too little too late for me.

If you follow this blog regularly, you’ll know (well, first that this is Stinky Golfer Chris’ day to post, but he’s still in the dark after major power outages swept the area due to the storm)…but you’ll also know my golf has been limited this season.

That being said, I actually had plans to play this weekend (albeit only 9-holes, but plans nonetheless). Needless-to-say those plans were squashed by the inclement weather. But all this snow got me thinking about golfing when it’s cold. I’ve always held the position that if I can’t get by with a Polo shirt over a thermal, then it’s too cold. In other words, if I have to wear some sort of coat (which may hinder my swing), then the game is no longer fun.

Stinky Golfer Chris takes it a step further – he flat out states he won’t play golf when the temp drops below 50 degrees (10 celsius). But don’t tell any of this to golf retailers. You see, it seems they think we can (and should) be playing till the temps sink below freezing!

Why else would I have received a Golf Galaxy mailer pushing winter garb for the course? Golf Galaxy is dead serious. So, apparently, is Footjoy, who is providing the WinterSof gloves on the guy at the far right. But at what point is all this pointless? Isn’t your game going to suffer with all the extra layers? How about our friends up north in Canada – are they even still playing when the temps are hovering around freezing? Or is this all a ploy to get golfers to spend more money?

Perhaps.

But perhaps I’m thinking about this all wrong. Maybe it doesn’t matter all that much if your score goes up. Maybe, if you’re playing on a brisk winter day, you shouldn’t even keep score. Maybe you should just enjoy the fact that you’re outdoors and playing the game you love. Canadians, am I right?

Wow – this is exciting! I believe my golf season just got longer! Now, if they only gave out those gloves tonight instead of candy…

Did Golf Ignite America’s Thirst for Scotch?

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So here’s what we know about golf’s history in the United States: Golf was introduced at the end of the 18th-century and it took nearly 100 years to really catch-on here in America. In the mid-1890’s, golf courses began springing up and the USGA (known at the time as the Amateur Golf Association of the United States) was created.

But, there’s a part of golf’s U.S. history that is rather intriguing; as golf became popular here in the States, so did, coincidentally, the consumption of Scotch Whisky. This parallel was first introduced to me through a book I’m currently reading called “And a Bottle of Rum.“ While the book’s main focus is on rum’s history in the New World, there’s a point where the author writes the following:

“Scotch, brought into fashion by the golf craze that swept the nation in the 1890’s, began its decades-long fling with popularity.”

That statement immediately had me searching the internet for answers. I wanted to learn more about golf’s influence on Scotch drinking in the U.S. Unfortunately, there’s not much to be had about that on the information super highway.

I was able to find the following excerpt from a book published in 1902:

“Some say that it [Scotch Whisky] came into fashion with golf, others that the increase is due to the recommendations of doctors, or that the habit was introduced by travelers from the United Kingdom.”

Interestingly, the book the previous excerpt came from was a 1901 British consular report on trade and commerce for San Francisco, but says nothing more regarding golf’s influence on Scotch here in America.

Oh, there are plenty of things on the net about Scotch and golf (like this piece on pgatour.com and this from the Travelstart Blog). And there’s even mention of golf being a “gentleman’s game” and Scotch being a “gentleman’s drink.” In fact, here’s a quote from a site called The Gentleman Blog where they recommend taking a moment at the end of your swing to enjoy what golf has to offer:

“…a good follow through is needed so that you can have that solitary moment where you take in the beauty of the course and the serenity that comes with golf (this is before you get angry at how terribly you sliced the ball). It’s this moment that makes golf worthwhile. It’s the moment where you are at one with the club, the course and that hip-flask of Scotch in your breast pocket.”

So sure, golf and Scotch seem to go hand-in-hand. But as for answers on how Scotch became all the rage in the United States, I found very little. Perhaps the author of “And a Bottle of Rum” got his information from the 1901 British consular report? It’s all a bit of a mystery. Of course, it probably doesn’t really matter. All that matters is what we do know:

“We borrowed golf from Scotland as we borrowed whiskey. Not because it is Scottish, but because it is good.” – Horace Hutchinson; English golfer, sportsman, and writer.

Enjoy.

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