I took the day off today to head to the western side of the state (Michigan) and play a round of golf. (I’ll post a review of the course later).

I played pretty well, concentrating on just two swing thoughts. The first, which I wrote about last week, was to try to relieve tension in my swing by gripping the club a lot less tightly. That really seems to do the trick.

The second thought comes from Jim Hardy’s The Plane Truth Book. In it, Hardy writes that a two plane swinger (as I am), tends to have a swing that is too steep, and too narrow. So today, I also concentrated on widening my arc on the backswing. I am probably taking the club too far outside, but for now, it’s working.

So with those two thoughts, I did pretty well. I had no mishits with my irons for the entire round (although not all of them were on target). And after a few poor holes at the beginning, my shots with the driver and woods also greatly improved.

In fact, I did something I’ve not done in a long time: I was on the green on a 475 yard par 5 in two. A good tee shot and a three wood out of the rough got me on the rather largish green, where I putted it in for a birdie.

One thing I’ve really noticed about that lighter grip is that I’m finishing my swing with a lot more panache. The relative lack of tension allows me to make a complete follow through, hands high and finishing in the classic shaft-across-the-back position.

I’m going to keep working on those thoughts.

If You Play Golf You are My Friend.

Harvey Penick’s little aphorism came to mind yesterday as I was paired for my nine with another solo golfer.

Because I play the vast majority of my rounds without a group, I usually find myself paired with other singles—complete strangers. And what has been amazing to me is that it always has seemed to work out..

Of course some were better than others. There was the guy who didn’t say a word the entire round (I figured he didn’t want to break his concentration), and the one who threw his bag—clubs and all—into a lake (at least he didn’t throw MY clubs in the lake). A couple others needed a lesson in etiquette.

But I honestly can’t think of a single round spoiled by an impromptu playing partner. And for the most part, they’ve been good, interesting and friendly company (I can only hope they can say the same thing about me).

Perhaps it’s that, being paired with a stranger, people are on their best behavior. Or it could be that players who show up as singles are golfers of a more serious sort.

Yesterday’s playing partner, Larry, turned out to be a really nice guy. Larry was in a cart—I walked—and was very much worried that I was rushing to keep up. At least once a hole, he would say, “You don’t have to move so fast. I’m not in a hurry.”

I don’t think he really believed me when I said that I generally am a fast player. I don’t take practice swings; I walk briskly to the ball, and I am pulling my next club out of the bag well before I arrive at the ball’s location. I have never had trouble keeping up with guys in carts.

Still, it was a very nice gesture.

And its pretty typical of what I’ve encountered over the years. A shared love of golf can turn complete strangers into friends—if only for a few holes on a lazy afternoon.

I had a revelation on the course yesterday. And although it was more of the smack-myself-in-the-head variety than of the burning bush, it was a revelation nonetheless.

I was standing in the fairway of the fifth when it hit me. Having just hit a six iron from 150 that travelled in a high, soaring arc and sailed far over the green, I decided to move down a couple of clubs and give it another try. This time it was a seven, and the shot fell twenty yards short. It was typical of the inconsistency that has plagued me for years.

But, as there was no one behind me and a foursome in front, I lingered a while longer and contemplated the situation. It was clear that the second shot just had not felt as good as the first. The group ahead was still standing on the tee, so I dropped a few more balls. As is usual, some shots went beautifully, while others travelled like they were made of lead.

So what was the difference? I took a few practice swings and thought about it. And the more I considered, the more evident it became that the on the good shots, I felt long and loose. And on the bad ones, I felt like I was stabbing at the ball.

And that’s when the voice spoke: Tension is the enemy of the golf swing.

It was not a new message. Indeed, it was obvious. But it was one to which I had not paid enough attention in the past. I know that tension causes all sorts of swing faults, but the issue always seemed to be secondary to grip, stance, backswing, avoiding an over-the-top swing and so on. I had always been convinced that if I was hitting the ball poorly, it was something technical.

But at that Eureka moment, I wondered if I had been doing all of those things right, and it was mere tension that brought me down.

So I took out an eight iron and gripped it—as Sam Snead advised—as if I was holding a baby bird. Ditching all swing thoughts, I concentrated on just relaxing. Then, letting out a deep breath, I swung.

And the ball flew the green. One hundred fifty plus with an eight iron. Not bad.

For the rest of the round, I was a model of consistency. I didn’t hit anything fat or thin and was one-and-a-half to two clubs longer on every shot. My hook disappeared. It was nice to play a round where I didn’t have to scramble on every hole.

Of course, it’s the nature of golf that—just when you think you’ve found the key, it eludes you once again. I am under no illusions that I have found the magic bullet.

But for now, I’m going to enjoy my revitalized swing.

Michigan’s climate and my other responsibilities finally cooperated and today I got to play my first nine of the season.

The weather was spectacular: sunny, breezy and sixty degrees; in short, perfect golf weather. I wore long pants and spent much of the round thinking I should put on the windbreaker that I had tucked in my golf bag. But I didn’t. I simply enjoyed the fact that I could walk a quick nine without breaking a sweat.

The inaugural round was at Fellows Creek in Canton, Michigan. It’s a community track with three distinct nines: woodlands, parklands and links-style. I played the east course, the links. As this is the beginning of the season, it’s in terrific shape. Thousands of league golfers have not yet had a chance to pockmark the ground with divots. Fairways and greens were a bit soft from recent rains, but that didn’t affect my play.

As you might expect, I had a rough start. (I have not even practiced at a range this year). My first tee shot popped up and that led to a double. I lost two more and then two more after that. On the fourth, however, I managed a scrambling par. My second shot fell short of the green, but I managed to pitch it close and get it down.

The foursome on the next hole let me play through. I hit the green on that par three, but the ball skipped off the back and I lost another to par. I managed another par on the following par 5, hitting the green in regulation and finishing with a two putt.

Another show was lost on the 220 yard par 3, but deliberately so. The right side of the small green is guarded by a pond, so rather than take a chance, I aimed short. My pitch was close, but I two putted.

With pars on the remaining two fours, though, I finished in fine fashion. That left me eight over for the nine—not bad considering that I haven’t played since September last.

I concentrated on setup and alignment, thinking about the keys from the Jim Hardy Plane Swing book (see the ad in the sidebar) for a two plane golfer. Always remember, Hardy says, that the two plane swing tends to be a little steep and a little narrow; when you’re not hitting it well, you need to take steps to compensate for that.

Friends of mine will be curious about my decision to try the two plane swing. I spent all of last summer trying to become a one-plane golfer. But I always found myself standing taller and setting up in the “inverted K” of the two planer. So this year, I’ve decided to go back to the setup that I was initially taught. The one plane may be better, but it never felt comfortable.

I struck the ball well today, so I hope that bodes well for the rest of the season.

The weather, work, my wife and kids all have been conspiring against me this spring. It’s nearly May, and I have yet to play a round—or even a hole.

Weather has been the main culprit. As I write, I am sitting in my classroom office, staring out the window at yet another cold, windy, rainy day. We had snow here just last week, for heavens sake.

The weekend doesn’t look too bad; the weatherman is predicting partly sunny, with temperatures in the upper 60s. Unfortunately, my wife works all weekend and I am on “Dad Duties.” Monday looks good weatherwise, but I have Union duties (I’m the vice president) and then I’m responsible for taking the boys to Scouts. Tuesday I have a faculty staff meeting. I’m actually free Wednesday, but the prediction is for a rainy and cold day. Ditto Thursday.

I can’t wait for summer break. Until then, I guess I’ll just dream.