The day started out with some promise. The sun and warm air tweeted my golf clubs, and I needed to get the 2010 season off to a good start. I ended up just getting dirty..
One of the problems with early spring in Chicago is that we have to deal with mud. Not just any mud, but dark brown, fed by winters run-off brown. The dormant grasses are just starting to wake up, shoots of green here and there. But overall the colors of early spring are dingy shades of brown. Did I say it’s muddy?
I went to my local muni to hit some putts and slap some balls. The putting greens are rough, as they should be. Until the soil temps rise, the grass will stay dormant. I could see footprints from last fall. My Scotty Cameron Santa Fe basked in the warmth of the overhead sun. I focused on just rolling the ball, and after a dozen or so putts, the feel came back. My outlook for the new season was beginning to build with each stroke. I drained a 20+ footer…I made three from 8 feet. I really paid attention to the stroke…watching my impact. Then I heard the call…my 8802 was begging to be used.
I placed the head cover back on the Scotty and plopped down the three Titleist ProV X’s….the worn 8802 putter grip felt like an old friend. We’ve done many a battle…some lost, but most were won. I always seem to come back to my “old gal”. The first putts were tentative, but after a while the sublime click, that butter like feel was rolling the rock. My 20 foot putts were finding the target. Even managed 2 out of three from this distance. Life was good.. the sun, the smell of a new spring and putting with my 8802.
I managed to work my way to the range. I needed to see if all the muscles still worked. I loaded up on a basket of yellow range balls, acquired a space on a mat and started with the 9 iron. Slow short swings. Easy rhythm. Focused on making contact….then it happened. The range cart picking balls got stuck 15 yards away just to my left. Unfortunately the driver made the mistake of trying to back up the “picker”. The baskets full of yellow pellets fought the maneuver and it resulted in a giant FUBAR situation. The picker cart wasn’t going to move, and it was in direct path of four or five range rats….The old pro in me took over, that was my first mistake.
I asked the guys around me to please stop hitting balls, and I ran (actually walked briskly) down to assess the situation. It was bad. The cart was stuck, the gang baskets holding hundreds of balls were askew. There wasn’t much to be done other than take off the picker gang and try to move it. Soon two more “gentlemen” joined me and offered the stuck operator some help. We took the steel pegs out of the gang and set the cart free. Some lifting and grunting were all that were needed to move the gang. Arranging it so that it wouldn’t push the gang uphill (1st mistake causing the incident) we re-attached the gang to the cart. Now water follows the path of least resistance so being at the bottom of an incline would not be the “firmest” spot. The cart was not able to gain traction, so I added my ample (don’t snicker) weight to the back end….That was my undoing (2nd mistake). The cart operator gunned it, maybe to get out of the way, or more likely to save some face.
Lets just say that I tasted the mud. I hit a couple of balls afterwards, but soon my feet began to get wet, and after hitting three really good crisp 9 irons I left. It was open game for my half bucket of balls…
Goes to show that sometimes, regardless of what you have planned, you can get dirty….at least I got a replacement token.
