Although I carry a fifteen handicap, I have long been convinced that I should be much better. I can drive the ball long and straight, hit high accurate shots with my irons, pitch and chip reliably and putt as well as any pro.

The problem is that I can’t seem to do all of those things at the same time. I have rounds when I drive well, but my chipping falls apart. Or I chip well, but consistently hit the irons fat. The only constant is my putting.

But on some occasions, at least, the planets align, and everything seems to work.

I had one of those rounds this past Thursday at the annual school district employee tournament/outing. My round started like any other, with four straight bogeys. I took three to get to the green on the first par four and then two putted. An errant tee shot on the second forced me to waste a stroke chipping out of the woods on the second. I missed the green, chipped up and two putted on the par three third. Another chip out of the woods cost me on the fourth.

But then came a long string of pars. I pounded drives down the fairway, hit greens in regulation, and two putted. Reaching a 500-plus yard par five in two got one back. Although there were no more birdies, the pars kept coming. On one hole, I saved par by chipping in from behind the green. Another took a forty foot putt. A couple were a chip from off the green and a putt. Driving the green on one hole, I three putted—a missed opportunity.

Finally, I reached the eighteenth needing only a par five to shoot 80 even. And I went Phil Mickelson. I hit a long drive, but it leaked left into the rough behind a line of trees. From there, I had two choices: chip sideways back to the fairway, or take a risky shot down the line through a gap in the trees that would have put me right around the 150 stake.

I went for the long shot. I had been striking the ball very well all day, and saw no reason I couldn’t repeat. But I chunked the shot, dribbling the ball behind a tree. From there, I had no choice but to chip out. After three shots, I was only a couple of yards past my drive.

That was mental mistake number one. I could have saved a stroke by punching out right. Even if I had chunked that shot, the ball still would likely have cleared the trees and given me a better look at the green.

Knowing that I needed a five for a personal best round, I took out the three wood and fired a shot at the green. I struck it well, but it fell just short and bounced into a greenside bunker.

Mental mistake number two: I should have laid up and then launched a high iron into the green, taking the bunkers out of play.

It took two shots to get out of the bunker. Then I two putted for an eight. And I finished with an 83.

As quickly as the planets align, so too do they scatter.

We recently put a little putting green in the backyard for the boys.

Mrs. GolfBlogger is a US Air Force Veteran—a Captain, and veteran of the first Gulf War—so Memorial Day is an especially big deal at GolfBlogger World Headquarters.

No more blogging today. Just prayers for those who have served in the cause of freedom, and for their families. 

Since my car was in the shop, I played hookey from work. After dropping Mrs. GolfBlogger off, I took her vehicle and drove to a nearby course.

I am very glad that I did. It was a spectacular day, and I played a very solid round, highlighted by the eagle I scored on the first. The hole is a 512 yard par 5, slightly uphill, with a large pond along the right side. I hit a spectacular drive to the edge of the right fairway, and then a three wood to about ten feet. One putt sealed the deal.

Very, very satisfying.

Of course, that’s nearly impossible to top. The rest of the round, my drives were not nearly as effective, as I developed a tendency to hit my tee shots too high, losing forward carry. My iron play, however, was nothing short of amazing. As the round progressed, I needed to drop down a club length, and then two and three for my normal distances. On the sixteenth, I hit a pitching wedge from 150 to the center of the green.

The wedge wasn’t a rash choice. On the previous hole, I had flown the green from 140 with a nine iron.

I’ve also improved in accuracy, hitting more greens than usual. Of course, that’s easier to do when you’re hitting shorter irons.

A lot of the improved play is, I am sure, due to the concerted effort I’m making to relieve tension by keeping my grip loose. That allows me to make a full turn, accelerate through the swing, release the club and finish high. One sign that I’m pulling this off is that when I miss, I’m missing left, with nary a slice to be found. That tells me that I’m easily closing the clubface at impact.

Now if I can just figure out how to keep my drives down.

I am always discovering new sounds.

Not that I actually hear them, mind you. My audiologist tells me that I miss more than 70% of the sounds heard by normal humans, so there actually is quite a bit that don’t hear. And since I’ve been this way since birth, not only do I not hear a lot of sounds, in many cases, I’m not even aware that something makes a sound.

For example, it was not terribly long ago that I discovered that fluorescent lights hum. A student told me that it was so quiet that he could hear the lights. I thought that he was kidding, but confirmed later that they actually do make sounds.

Another recent discovery is that birds make a lot of noise. My wife was complaining about how the racket wakes her up every morning. I’ve always heard that birds sing, but didn’t realize that they did it constantly. I had always imagined that it was a once-in-a-while sort of thing.

Apparently the crickets keep her awake at night, too.

Birds in the morning. Crickets at night. I’m glad I can get a decent uninterrupted night’s sleep.

All in all, I live in a rather peaceful world. Little (or not so little) noises that drive other people crazy have absolutely no effect on me. Kids chewing gum in class? Can’t hear them. Cell phones? Nope. Paper rustling. Chalk on a blackboard. Rain on the roof. People whispering during my backswing. I can’t hear any of those. I enjoy the silence.

My latest discovery came on the golf course. I had just finished making a putt when my playing partner noted that my putter made a nice sound.

“Different?” I asked.

“Different from mine,” he said.

I quizzed him a bit more and found something that I hadn’t really considered: that putters make distinctly different sounds.

Now, I know that drivers and irons make different sounds, because I can hear different types of thuds (I realize that the rest of you are hearing more musical tones). And I know that putters make some sort of noise because manufacturers are always touting the sound dampening qualities of their materials.

But for some reason it never occurred to me that they were tonally different. I just thought it was a matter of different volumes of a “clink” (whatever a “clink” sounds like).

It makes sense, of course. Different materials in different shapes will create different resonance. But it never occurred to me before. What I can’t hear, I don’t notice.

So here’s what I’ve decided that I want: A putter that makes the most insufferable sound imaginable. I won’t be able to hear it, but maybe it will annoy my opponents and give me an advantage in match play.