Grip It & Rip It

I'm talking Golf here as I just got some fun in the Fla sun.

Anyone ever knock the crap out of the little white ball?

I'm a duffer, no control, but not afraid to blast that little bastard. Climbing makes for stronger shoulders & back. But one bad shot and hole is in the shitter -- drive for show, putt for dough.

I often wonder how many snowmen I can build while out for a stroll; for me, it's just beer 30 from then on.

Here's a workout, goto Papago Park in Phx, walk as many rounds as you can in a given summer day, I got 45 holes in up to 115 degrees. (Anyone that plays this course, knows what kind of distance I'm talking about) Ocotillo is a good one too.

Good ole Evergreen, whacky mountain golf. It's a good walker.

Anyone take the sticks with them on their travels?

Golf Sucks? Well, ok, I suck at golf; but it's another exercise in the futility of patience and good endurance to fire a couple of rounds -- all the much better to climb with.

Mark Nelson wrote: Anyone ever knock the crap out of the little white ball?

I've appeased my golf loving friends a few times, even though golfing agitates me. I do love knocking the crap out of those little white balls though. The longer I stayed on the course, the more angry I got, and the more distance those balls went flying.

Got Gun? How about shooting ranges to improve the eye/hand coordination for climbing? I've been interested in that lately.

Mark, you always come up with fun posts to reply to!

G

Mark Nelson wrote:Anyone ever knock the crap out of the little white ball?

I worked at three different courses and started to get pretty good before discovering climbing. Once I started climbing I took about a 10 month hiatus from the golf course. When I returned I discovered that my forearms had gotten SO much stronger that as I made contact with the ball I was drawing everything. A cool side effect of climbing I guess is that I no longer have to worry about slicing the ball! =)

MM

In the altitude of Utah and Nevada I can routinely hit my driver 300yds plus. (due to technology, not skill.)

I love golf. To me it is the antithesis of climbing. There have been times while climbing that I have been so scared, or so worked that I dreamed to be standing on a putting green, enjoying the simple pleasures of life (why put myself through the suffering that sometimes comes with climbing.)

Equally, there are times on the course that I look to the mountains and feel the excitement of good climbs, look around at the fat old dudes, and know that I need to take a break from golf.

It is a good balance for me. (My friends give me shite for playing golf of course!)

And yeah, I take the sticks when I am traveling occasionally.

Animal House - Teeing off to hit the dickhead giving Flounder a bunch of crap -- classic,
Armageddon - right off the rig,
MASH, the original, Trapper & Hawkeye with the clubs headin to Tokyo...

Once, & this only happened once (with my game, believe it or not), I bladed a nine-iron on approach, it was a rocket line-drive; I crushed it. All four of us started yelling as soon as I hit it (my friends have so much faith in my game too)...

Well here's the deal, we matched up for some game in N. Carolina, the course had ground that was friggin ass hard; harder than Phx earth. These guys ahead of us were all over the place, had no game etiquette, would wait & wait to try and crush a ball & wait -- only to have it go about 30'. All day long, not to mention they were jerks; yea, ok this is fun.

...So the ball I hit just goes straight, it hits the green. You ever watched Wimbledon? When the tennis ball hits the grass it skids & picks up speed as the friction is not as favorable as a clay or concrete court. My ball skips right off the green, still at home run velocity; we're yelling. The next tee box is right behind the green, we can all see where the ball is going. That fat bastard is looking at who knows what with his back turned to us; now there are about four others also yelling that see my trajectory.

It squares him right in his big fat butt.

Screw it, we all start laughing, best shot I ever hit.

I started climbing in 1968 and promptly gave up golf as I only played golf when you could not climb (i.e. raining). Then, about 10 years ago (as my climbing began to suck from ACL repair) a fellow climber wanted to take up golf for an activity he could do later in life. It quickly became as addictive as climbing was while you were working your way up the grades. Having retired 1.5 years ago, I have played about 170 rounds so far this year and my handicap is <3. Trying to "redpoint" a course (i.e. par), is probably as difficult as redpointing 12c. When I travel, I usually have my climbing gear, MTB, and golf clubs.

At this point I like golf more than climbing. The mental discipline required is harder than climbing. The element of surprise is truly astounding. You have to be a master at accepting and working with reality to play it reasonable well.

Gigette: Golf doesn't agitate you, rather you (personally) become agitated while playing golf. Getting yourself out of that bad place is part of the mental discipline involved.

rmsusa wrote:Gigette: Golf doesn't agitate you, rather you (personally) become agitated while playing golf.

Rmsusa, that's so true! I'm embarrassed to admit, in my pre-climbing days I was a closet golf lover. Seriously! I loved watching the pros golf on Sundays to relax my mind, and take me to a happy place. After a few hours of golf time, I was inspired to do my yard work. It was so pleasurable to have my olfactory senses awakened by the smell of fresh cut grass, and visually pleasing to see the perfect lines I had created in my lawn, as I mowed the grass. It was like a drug to take little sips of my delicious iced tea, during my switch off of yard chores, in the hot Vegas sun. I felt like a pro; familiarizing myself with the layout of Home Depot, and Lowes, eventually knowing almost every yard tool known to man. I even learned how to fix a broken sprinkler system; all because of golf!

p.s., I'm not being a smart-ass.

rmsusa wrote:Getting yourself out of that bad place is part of the mental discipline

I'll have to give it another shot, someday. As I'm getting older, and wiser, and trying to make positive life changes for myself; I realize how important mental discipline is.

I just had a thought; I'd love to be at beautiful Pebble Beach right now, catching the ocean breeze, and hanging out with those little white balls.

Oh, speaking of "other sports" ; one of the best times of my life was renting a bike in Monterey, and riding the gorgeous 17 mile drive along the coast to Carmel. The lone cypress tree was a real treat, and I loved stopping at that little market in Pebble Beach, sitting outside, eating a hearty sandwich, feeling so happy, and calm.

Thanks for the reality check~

G

Gigette,

This is a good time of the year to play golf in Death Valley.
I was there last year on Nov 11 and it was very nice weather.
It is called Furnace Creek an is 214 feet below sea level.
Also, there is a big festival around Veteran's Day to
honor the '49ers (1849). Parades, food, horse-shoe competitions.
I considered myself a '49er, because I was born in 1949!
Also make sure you stop at Ash Meadows to see the pupfish!

Thanks, Greg!

I just might check it out~ Sounds fun!

G

Some embarrassing moments.

Skulling a pitching wedge approach to the green to have the ball crash through an apartment building window behind the green.

Hitting a line drive 3 wood into a multi-million dollar home from about 30 yards. (It made a very loud bang, fortunately no broken window.)

Scary moment.

Standing next to a guy after finishing the ninth hole to have a ball come flying in and hitting the guy in the back of the head. He dropped like a rock. It got scarier when the guy that hit him came walking down... he was festooned in tatoos and had a house arrest type ankle bracelet on. He offered the knocked out player a beer... ended up being funny as shite. (after the fact.)

I am sure there are more... but those come to mind. I really felt like crap when I broke that window. Felt good to hit the multi-million dollar home, but bad that I lost a stroke...

My memories of playing golf with my grandfather as a teenager are enough to make me cry. He has been dead for 11 years, but I find that I talk to him now and then on the course, especially after great rounds. The game teaches me lots and has given me lots.

John J. Glime wrote:Scary moment. Standing next to a guy after finishing the ninth hole to have a ball come flying in and hitting the guy in the back of the head. He dropped like a rock. It got scarier when the guy that hit him came walking down... he was festooned in tatoos and had a house arrest type ankle bracelet on. He offered the knocked out player a beer... ended up being funny as shite. (after the fact.)

That's pretty funny, J.J.G! It reminded me of how often I bump into my ex-patients, and ex-convicts around town in Vegas.

Off topic from golf, but a scary moment for me......I was at a sleazy, self-serve carwash, intently vacuuming the floor of the backseat of my car while on my hands, and knees (you know how noisy those big tube vacuums are) I had both back doors open, and I suddenly jumped up, almost hitting my head on the inner roof of my car when I saw a big ass dude, leaning in my car from the opposite side I was on. I recognized the guy (with poor impulse control, and a history of violent behavior; red flag-red flag!) immediately, as we were face to face. He was just saying hi. I was like, WHOA, hey, hi, how's it going? (in my mind, I thought, damn, shit, mother fu#*er, you scared the holy crap out of me!!) Luckily, most of my psych. patients like and/or respect me. Otherwise I could be in big trouble around town, and on the golf course ; )

Happy golfing! G~

If you'd have asked me 2yrs ago whether I'd ever take up golf, I would have pissed my pants laughing at you. Now, 2yrs later and 37lbs heavier (thanks a lot, school) golf is about all I do in my sparse free time.

I've actually learned to really enjoy golf. Here in Vegas you can golf year round--early mornings in the summer, afternoons in the winter, and any time of day in the spring and fall. Some of the mental challenges in golf are similar to those in climbing--trying to keep it loose and not freeze up, trying to have good tempo and rhythm, trying to visualize successful actions, etc.

I'll likely climb again one day, when I can get back in shape. Until then I guess I'll have to grip it and rip it.

E