Upstart wedge manufacturer Feel Golf says it will ignore the USGA’s year end ban on sales of wedges with the “aggressive groves.”

Lee Miller, Feel Golf CEO said We’re a business. We’re going to offer what our customers want. That means we’ll be selling wedges with both the old and new grooves as long as there is a demand. They are just too popular to discontinue—they really offer a unique short-game advantage.”

The pro tours switched to the new USGA/R&A conforming grooves this year. Significant amateur tournaments all will require them starting in 2014, while local championships may hold out until 2024.

The impetus for the new groove rules was that too many pro players had adopted a bomb-and-gouge strategy: hitting the ball as far as possible without regard for the fairway, and then relying on “aggressive” grooves in the wedges to get the ball to the green with adequate spin. But if that style of play was a problem, it was one that only affected players at the highest levels—i.e., the pros. The rest of us can’t use that strategy because we don’t have the “bomb.” For 99 and 44/100ths of the players out there, all the aggressive grooves did was make it a little easier around the greens.

If there’s a problem with equipment or playing styles on the pro tours, it should be up to the pro tours to police them. I see absolutely nothing wrong with having two sets of equipment standards: one for the Tours, and one for the rest of us. As far as I’m concerned, the USGA has lost its way. Rather than worrying about whether the pros are going “too low,” they should be worried about the millions who have given up the game of golf because it’s too difficult. The future of golf and of the USGA doesn’t lie with the PGA or Euro Tours. It lies with the millions of amateurs—mostly hackers—who pay for the lessons (big name pros don’t pay for their lessons), buy the equipment (I daresay most pros don’t buy equipment) and pay the greens fees (which pros don’ t do either). The USGA budget—television revenues aside—comes from membership fees paid by hackers.

Let the PGA Tour regulate the PGA Tour. The USGA should stick to its own mission statement: “Based on a shared love and respect for golf, we preserve its past, foster its future, and champion its best interests for everyone who enjoys the game.” Everyone The focus should be on Everyone, not a small segment who might happen to be able to hit 300 yard drives and then spin the ball to the hole out of six inch rough.

The USGA needs to concentrate on rules for

A week ago, I was in a state of despair over the depths to which my game had sunk. It was a tale of topped balls, shanks left and right, banana slices and—once or twice—the complete whiff. I was out of my mind with frustration and at the point where I was ready to simply hang up my clubs for the season—two months early. I decided instead to take a week off and give it one more chance.

What a difference a week makes.

When I returned to the course Friday, it was with an entirely new game. Ballstriking was solid, if not particularly long, and with some above average putting,  I managed a solid round. It is not back to where I was midsummer, but I have hope for the remainder of the fall season.

I have no idea what I was doing wrong to begin with, and certainly have no idea how I fixed it (or even if it’s truly fixed). The comings and goings of the swing is one of the great mysteries of golf. And it’s a mystery that disquiets the pros as well as amateurs. Can anyone doubt the pain of players such as Ian Baker-Finch and David Duval? Or perhaps of Tiger Woods? Imagine knowing that you can play the game at the highest levels and wondering daily what happened to those skills.

Given the vagries of the game, I’m glad I don’t have to play for a living.

In magazines and on the web, members of the major golf media recently have decreed the death of the high-end, high maintence, pristine course. The problem, it seems, is that the golf course industry overbuilt in the 90s and oughts, anticipating a Tiger and Baby Boomer demand for golf that never materialized. Now, facing a semi-permanent recession, course owners are desperate for ways to cut costs.

A solution, according to the golf futurists, is the rise of a “new” kind of course: low in maintence costs and impact on the envIronment—sustainable, in the buzzword of the new envirospeak. Rough should be allowed to return to prairie; bunkers grown shaggy; weedkiller and fertilizer eschewed; constant watering of fairways and greens pared. Regretfully, they say, “sustainable” means our courses no longer will be emerald jewels. But brown is the new green.

That this development is treated as revolutionary probably says more about the golf writing fraternity than they would care to admit. For writers who regularly play the Top 100 list as guests of the resort, I’m sure that the concept of a fairway that’s more brown than green is groundbreaking—or at the very least, romantic. It’s funny to read them wax poetic about the brown paths of the classic Scottish clubs and fantasize about similar shades in the United States.

But for those of us who spend our lives on the public links, shaggy brown courses have long been part of our everyday experience. The municipal and public courses I play are far from pristine. They’re green and soft in the spring; browner, and hard in the summer; worn and leafy in the fall. All of the public tracks I play water the greens regularly, but not all do the same for the fairways. Tee boxes also are hit-and-miss. The best fairways are completely filled in, but not always with grass. On some, various species of “weeds” have won the Darwinian struggle. But at least there aren’t any bare spots. The rough has always been ... rough.

The courses I frequent most often have been practicing “sustainable” golf for as long as I can remember. I don’t romanticize the summer’s sunburned shades, but acknowledge that they’re part of the passage of the year. The course changes with the seasons. It’s part of the game for a good many of us.

It seems to me that the people who play on the perfected fairways and greens of the high end courses miss a great deal. The unvarying sameness of the manicured fairways, maintained “rough” and measured stimps is fine for the occasional special round, but I think it would—in a way—get old. Perhaps that’s why the golf writers have plunged into the seas of brown grass like a migration of lemmings. They’re looking for something out of the experience of their “ordinary” rounds.

This is the 20th in a series of articles on things to do to feed your golf addiction in the golfing offseason:

Attend A Demo Day

While golf courses may have off seasons, golf retailers operate year-round. Thus, even when snow covers the ground, our local shops are in full swing, using every trick in the book to get golfers in the store and move merchandise. One such promotion is the “demo day.” At Miles of Golf, Carls Golfland, Golfsmith, King Par and other southeastern Michigan establishments, equipment reps for the major manufacturers schedule time at the heated or indoor tees to show their latest wares and offer a chance to try them out. The reps are excited to talk about the new gear, and range balls are free, so it’s a deal that can’t be beat.

Miles of Golf in Ann Arbor held two demo days this past weekend. On Saturday, I spent a couple of hours testing clubs from Cobra, Mizuno, Adams and Ping. I returned on Sunday for TaylorMade, Callaway and Nike. I learned a lot about the new year’s clubs, tried out most of them and came away with a good pile of notes for future posts. I didn’t actually buy anything, but Miles was offering some very good deals.

The Demo Days also were a chance to try out Miles of Golf’s “Trackman” system. Trackman is a driving range bay with a doppler radar installed. The system measures your swing as you practice and feeds you information on carry and roll, swing and ball speed, angle and spin rate. For me, the bottom line of the data was that I don’t hit it far enough, my launch angle is too steep and my spin rate too high. Other than that, I’m good to go.

Keep an eye out for demo days in your area. They’re a fun—and cheap—way to fed the golf addiction.

I think it’s probably safe to say that anyone with more than a casual acquaintance with the game of golf has found himself in slumberland standing on a tee box, in a fairway or on a green. Dreaming of the game, I’ve found, is a common experience among the golfers that I know. Some relive great rounds or shots; others are forced to endure nightmares. But anyone who plays with any enthusiasm dreams of fairways and greens.

But I also have a further confession to make. I not only dream of golf; I put myself to sleep thinking about it.

For years, I’ve been something of an insomniac. Although I must get up at five to get to work on time, I can rarely fall asleep before eleven. I’m tired, but just not sleepy. Part of the problem is that my mind runs on endlessly with problems looking for solutions’, kids schedules and what I’m going to teach in class tomorrow.

The age old solution for sleeplessness is counting sheep. It’s something that makes sense, I suppose, if you are a shepherd or otherwise engaged in some agrarian occupation. Counting a flock as they pass through a turnstyle is no doubt boring enough to put even the most alert farmer to sleep.

But I’m a thoroughly suburban creature, and have no interest in sheep whatsoever. So I recently hit upon a solution: Rather than counting sheep, I replay in my head one of my recent rounds of golf.

I close my eyes and imagine standing on the first tee. I pull a club from the bag and tee up the ball. Then the swing. I relive the arc or the ball, usually high and straight,  but not long. It bounces a couple of times and then settles down.

I mostly skip the walk between shots, for I have no interest in playing the entire round in real time. It’s more like a highlight (or lowlight) reel. I replay the second shot and then fast forward to the green. A couple of putts, and then its on to the next hole. I’ve been known to improve my lie and even take a dreamland mulligan.

I don’t think I’ve ever finished one of my insomnia curing rounds, or even a nine. I can remember playing six once, but that’s about it.

I told Mrs. GolfBlogger about my new strategy for falling asleep and she just nodded.

“Now you know how I feel about watching golf on television”

The last drive of the season finds the fairway.

It’s been an unusual fall here in Michigan as we approach Thanksgiving with temperatures still hovering in the low 50s. A year ago at this time it was 35 degrees and two inches of snow already had fallen. Lack of cold weather and snow disappoints Mrs. GolfBlogger, the ski patroller, but I am grateful for the extra time. Every day of mild weather (to hardcore Michigan golfers, anything above 50 is mild), shaves the dark period known as The Void—the weeks between the first snow and the spring thaw.

I fear that my good luck has come to an end, though. Weather forecasts suggest that we’ll get snow Thursday evening, and at any rate, the temperatures will fall in the low 40s by Wednesday, with predicted rain. I’m convinced that my last “real” round of the year was at Green Oaks yesterday, and I’m ready to transfer the clubs from trunk to shed. Almost. There’s something sad about that ritual,  and I’m still putting it off.

Still, if Monday’s round was this year’s last, I will park the clubs with only a hint of wistfulness. It was a fun nine. In spite of wind, chill and not a little moisture in the air, I managed to shoot a 44. Drives were straight (though not particularly long), the irons were steady, and my putting deadly. I even managed a spectacular jailbreak on my one wayward tee shot, punching a five wood through a portcullis of trees.

The last drive hit the fairway. And the last hole was a birdie.

I have in recent weeks found myself engaged in a covert war with my students over their clandestine use of cell phones and texting to cheat on tests.

Students apparently are using their phones to record test questions, and then texting them to students taking the exams in later classes. I have suspected this for some time, but have not been able to actually catch one in the act. Young people are extraordinarily clever with those little devices, and can operate them with one hand, without looking at the keyboard. Phones are banned at school and carry a three day suspension for possession, but huge numbers of students conceal them in their clothing—in their waistbands, under sweaters and shirts, and for the girls—in their huge faux-designer handbags. It’s impossible to know whether a kid is scratching his armpit, or texting under the shirt.

A recent email from a concerned parent has, however, confirmed my suspicions of their actions, and I now am preparing for a full scale assault. The problem is how to stop the practice without without being overt, or resorting to more secure, but less equitable and educationally sound procedures.

Every teacher has their students clear the desks before a test and put their material under their chairs. But that doesn’t’ stop the hidden phones. Moreover, simply demanding that they stop and spending my time trying to catch them is just silly. The students will win that war, and a primary strategic rule is never to get engaged in a battle that you can’t win. If I become the cell phone gestapo, they still will manage to sneak them under my nose. And every student that gets away with using their phone just makes me look weak and ineffective—not a good position when you’re in a tank filled with sharks.

Administering different tests to different classes doesn’t strike me as fair. No matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to equalize the difficulty or focus of the material. Even if the material is the same, rewording a question can have an effect on the outcome. Parents these days come with lawyers attached, and if one gets the idea that her kid’s test was more difficult than her neighbors’, I will hear about it from administration.

I’m therefore left with offering different versions of the same test—mixing up the order of the questions, and the answer choices (In this age of high-stakes testing, data collection and disaggregation, all tests now are multiple choice). While that doesn’t solve the problem of question leakage, it at least prevents someone from texting out answer letters for others to memorize. On the next test day therefore, I will have four different versions in play.

I’m saddened that I have to spend such time working on such counter-measures. There always has been cheating in schools but it was for the most part confined to the truly desperate. Moreover, the available methods were well-known and relatively easy to police: crib sheets, writing on forearms, stolen tests and so on. Technology has made it so much easier and thus more widespread.

While the willingness of large numbers of my students to lie, cheat and steal is appalling, it is in no way surprising. After all, they have learned to do so from adults who lie, cheat and steal with impunity. Everyone is looking to cut corners, and cheating is only wrong if you get caught. Our entire culture seems based on the notion of success without effort. Public figures seem to lie instinctively. And our culture is rotten with the notion that—if you want or need something—you have the right to take it from someone else. At any given moment the US Congress and the current occupant of the White House are engaged in wholesale intergenerational theft, borrowing trillions to pay for current desires and effectively taking money from the pockets of children before they have even had a chance to earn it.

The whole affair really makes me appreciate the values of the game of golf. There is nothing easy about golf, and there are no shortcuts to success. Golfers work hard not to take anything away form other players, avoiding putting lines, staying silent when shots are made, and helping “opponents” find their balls. Honesty is at the core of the game. Professionals will call a penalty on themselves, even though it may cost them tens of thousands of dollars—or even their very livelihood, as in the case of JP Hayes, who called a penalty that cost him his Tour card.

How different from today’s populace was the attitude of Bobby Jones, who, having been praised for calling a penalty on himself said “You might as well praise a man for not robbing a bank.” Golfers who subscribe to the values of the game realize that in cheating, they are their own victims.

If only I could get my students to understand that. So many of them believe that it’s acceptable to cheat to get good grades, because that will get them into a good college with scholarships. But with a horizon that extends only as far as the next hour, they don’t understand the future costs. At some point, they will be unable to lie, cheat and steal their way through a class or job and will hit a wall, having few actual skills or knowledge to fall back on.

For my own children, my hope is that they absorb more of the values of golf than of American Idol, Wall Street, government entitlement leeches and our political class. Like the game, it won’t always be easy, but it will be rewarding.