As the rain tumbled down today I flicked on the tele to watch Adam Scott et al navigate their way around Royal Sydney in the Australian Open. Scott cruised around in 68, six shots worse than his 10 birdie-barrage 62 in the first round, but still good for a four shot lead with one round to go.
Inspired, and still with the memories of the PDC rattling around in the mind, and with time on my hands, I popped down the 'pilly to hit some balls on the old practice fairway. It was great fun. And then all of sudden a Precept MC golf ball appeared out of the 25 year old practice bag and triggered a memory flash.
The ball is signed is 'Murray Lott' and dated '19.3.99'. I am pretty sure the ball was gifted to me by the signee in the Royal Sydney clubhouse following his pre-wedding championship tonk at the course. James Mackay took the cash that day if I remember with a sizzling 78 or so. I was in the hunt but stumbled, naturally, over the last couple of holes.
Happy days, then and now.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Saturday, November 16, 2013
PDC International 2013
Fear: (noun) a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.
There was a point when I stood on the 2nd fairway at Narooma when I thought I felt fear. I was about 130m to the hole, uphill, ocean on the left, lots of room to bale out on the right. Pin in the middle. I had just bogeyed the first hole. What's happening to me? I thought. Why has my confidence disappeared? Was it the hangover-induced fuzziness? The early morning start (waking up at 4:50 am Brisvegas time)? The idea that a good shot here could kick start a great round and might just lead to an improbable PDC International victory? Or conversely that a poor shot would close the door on any glimmer of hope? I selected my 7 iron. I had a practice swing, and took a big divot. That's not good, I thought. This really could go anywhere. Try again. Smoother. Ok, that's better. I eventually hit an unconvincing shot onto the green. That wasn't so hard, I concluded. But it wasn't the end. As I walked toward green the light tap of doubt grew to a drum beat worthy of the Edinburgh Tattoo. There is no escaping this one, Lord, you need to find a solution fast or this round is toast.
I didn't. On the par 3 3rd I hit it onto the cliff face. The ball was impossible to retrieve - it just stared at me as I walked towards the green, I could hear it whispering, 'You're f#cked mate'. Four or so hours later I walked off the 18th with 89. Hmm, hardly a successful conquest of my demons over the rest of the round, but on reflection, another wonderful example of why I love this game. One moment I am tonking a Driver with complete confidence. A few moments later I may as well have a star picket in my hand for all the good it will do me trying to hit a 3 iron to this long par 3.
We all have our demons, our fears, our train wrecks - that moment when we know it's going to custard and there is nothing that's going to stop it e.g. Shark at the US Masters v Faldo; Jean van de Velde at the Open in the water on the 18th; Tiger when his missus found the text messages from Bambi, Kandy and Krystal.
It's not just part of this wonderful game of golf, it's part of life. It's THAT big.
Fortunately we can look beyond our own failures and foibles and be inspired by others who overcome. At the the 2013 PDC International it was a great pleasure, a privilege even, to watch the Chief and John McG share the cup with 100 stableford points over 3 rounds - first at Royal Canberra, followed by two rounds at Narooma. Chief just plugs away hitting it shorter and shorter every year. John, well, jeez, I don't know how he gets it back to the ball sometimes, but it just bloody works and he's now a three-time PDC International joint winner. Which is more one more major than the Shark won.
Might I add there was also joy watching the shooting star that was the Craw in round two at Narooma - 39 points, via 2 greens in regulation and 24 putts. Unfortunately that was more satellite than star (apologies to Billy Bragg) and dropped to earth rapidly in round three, mere space junk.
Craw's exceptional second round was the catalyst for victory in the inaugural Seiko Challenge, which went to a sudden death play-off versus the Chief, whose barnstorming all time PDC record of 3-4-2-4 (birdie-birdie-birdie-birdie) finish could not be sustained. Craw's sublime chip from the rough, over a bunker and close to the flag to clinch victory was one for the ages.
And while I am on the topic of the play-off, I wonder whether the Narooma locals have recovered from seeing Shirls wander down the play-off hole in front of the clubhouse, schooner of Resch's at half mast, casual as you like...
There were so many PDC moments to relish I can't list them all, and of course, they are just my views, so add your comments dear reader, but here are some:
There were solid noises advocated for a return to Barnbougle in 2014. I look forward to opportunities for workshopping my psychological frailties between now and then.
For all the pics and some video visit here.
There was a point when I stood on the 2nd fairway at Narooma when I thought I felt fear. I was about 130m to the hole, uphill, ocean on the left, lots of room to bale out on the right. Pin in the middle. I had just bogeyed the first hole. What's happening to me? I thought. Why has my confidence disappeared? Was it the hangover-induced fuzziness? The early morning start (waking up at 4:50 am Brisvegas time)? The idea that a good shot here could kick start a great round and might just lead to an improbable PDC International victory? Or conversely that a poor shot would close the door on any glimmer of hope? I selected my 7 iron. I had a practice swing, and took a big divot. That's not good, I thought. This really could go anywhere. Try again. Smoother. Ok, that's better. I eventually hit an unconvincing shot onto the green. That wasn't so hard, I concluded. But it wasn't the end. As I walked toward green the light tap of doubt grew to a drum beat worthy of the Edinburgh Tattoo. There is no escaping this one, Lord, you need to find a solution fast or this round is toast.
I didn't. On the par 3 3rd I hit it onto the cliff face. The ball was impossible to retrieve - it just stared at me as I walked towards the green, I could hear it whispering, 'You're f#cked mate'. Four or so hours later I walked off the 18th with 89. Hmm, hardly a successful conquest of my demons over the rest of the round, but on reflection, another wonderful example of why I love this game. One moment I am tonking a Driver with complete confidence. A few moments later I may as well have a star picket in my hand for all the good it will do me trying to hit a 3 iron to this long par 3.
We all have our demons, our fears, our train wrecks - that moment when we know it's going to custard and there is nothing that's going to stop it e.g. Shark at the US Masters v Faldo; Jean van de Velde at the Open in the water on the 18th; Tiger when his missus found the text messages from Bambi, Kandy and Krystal.
It's not just part of this wonderful game of golf, it's part of life. It's THAT big.
Fortunately we can look beyond our own failures and foibles and be inspired by others who overcome. At the the 2013 PDC International it was a great pleasure, a privilege even, to watch the Chief and John McG share the cup with 100 stableford points over 3 rounds - first at Royal Canberra, followed by two rounds at Narooma. Chief just plugs away hitting it shorter and shorter every year. John, well, jeez, I don't know how he gets it back to the ball sometimes, but it just bloody works and he's now a three-time PDC International joint winner. Which is more one more major than the Shark won.
Might I add there was also joy watching the shooting star that was the Craw in round two at Narooma - 39 points, via 2 greens in regulation and 24 putts. Unfortunately that was more satellite than star (apologies to Billy Bragg) and dropped to earth rapidly in round three, mere space junk.
Craw's exceptional second round was the catalyst for victory in the inaugural Seiko Challenge, which went to a sudden death play-off versus the Chief, whose barnstorming all time PDC record of 3-4-2-4 (birdie-birdie-birdie-birdie) finish could not be sustained. Craw's sublime chip from the rough, over a bunker and close to the flag to clinch victory was one for the ages.
And while I am on the topic of the play-off, I wonder whether the Narooma locals have recovered from seeing Shirls wander down the play-off hole in front of the clubhouse, schooner of Resch's at half mast, casual as you like...
There were so many PDC moments to relish I can't list them all, and of course, they are just my views, so add your comments dear reader, but here are some:
- Strolling the Augusta of the south at Royal Canberra. Kangaroos resting in the scrub. Crows drifting by. Blue skies. It all seemed very Australian.
- Splendid wining and dining in Kinsgton on Thursday night, and back there for breakfast.
- Sunny blue skies - best PDC weather ever.
- Pie shop at Braidwood, en route to Naroooma.
- The spectacular holes that hug the coast at Narooma including the par 4 2nd, par 3 3rd, par 5 5th and 18th.
- Whales breaching as we enjoyed a post-match frothy.
- Navigating the early morning fisherman and scoring a cracking croissant and ice coffee from the Narooma Bakery early Saturday morning. It's an eclectic little town, for example I noticed the picture framing shop in the main drag is a stockist for alarms and surveillance cameras, and motorcycle accessories. You really get your bang for your buck...
- Lunchtime prawns and cool drink on the deck between rounds on Saturday arvo.
- Doc's drive on the 2nd hole, final round - oh my goodness, that was a long way right.
- Craw and Shirls hitting into the front yard of a holiday home and onto road respectively on the 7th. A pedestrian on their way to beach kindly returned Shirls' ball 15 minutes later as we considered our putts on the green.
- Dr No and Saturday night, with her.
- Visiting Parliament House (old and new)
There were solid noises advocated for a return to Barnbougle in 2014. I look forward to opportunities for workshopping my psychological frailties between now and then.
For all the pics and some video visit here.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Four stick challenge 2013
Sunny blue skies greeted Shirls, Bellringer and me on the practice putting green at (the Royal) St Lucia Golf Links last weekend for the inaugural four stick challenge. There was a chance of early 'rules' controversy as I observed Ben honing his putting with a 4-iron. Strewth, I thought, perhaps putters aren't permitted?
Shirls arrived, and we set off to the 1st tee where some punter with an air of self importance was driving off. Then again. And again. Clearly a practice round, but a bit bold isnt it? Never mind, we were in no hurry.
I know, dear reader, you are all gagging to find out what clubs we opted for. I was confident with Driver, 5 iron, wedge and putter. Ben went with 3 metal, 4 iron, 8 iron and sandy. Shirls opted for 3 metal, 4 iron, 9 iron and putter (I think).
In the 20+ years since the course went public the old links at St Lucia have been adjusted and shortened to cater for the social golfer, but I think the bones are still reasonably strong. It would be interesting to see how the layout would have evolved if it had stayed in 'private' hands. I guess it would have become narrower, more heavily bunkered with tricked up greens for protection against the evolution of golf technology. As it is now the 1st has become a longish slight dog leg par 4, while the 2nd, previously quite a tough driving hole with the road catching any hookers, is now a 152 metre par 3. That didn't stop Shirls hitting on the road though!
The 3rd is a 251 metre par 4, apparently, but I distinctly remember it being a par 3 measuring 232 metres, wasn't it? I bombed one onto the green anyway, my shot of the day, I reckon. It was fun revisiting experiences of our youth as we wandered around the course. The hours spent in the muddy creek, the search for golf balls in long grass, down the river bank and in the bulrushes in front of the 4th tee. And also playing and losing balls in all of those aforementioned places.
We safely navigated the uphill 4th and the little dogleg 5th, which is now denuded of the tricky bunker that previously caught players trying to sneak around the corner, as well as the green-side traps. I had a flashback on the par 5, 6th - just get it to the top of that hill, I thought. Executing such a task seemed to be mission impossible in 1980's with a persimmon driver, but seemed a bit of a snack now. Ben made it home with two cracking 3 metals, the second seemed to fly and fly and fly - magnificent!
Onwards to the 7th, another very pleasant short dog leg. The green is bigger than I remember, and I think has been moved forward a bit, whereas it probably could have been moved back, or tucked further left to make it more difficult, but perhaps that would muck up the passage of the creek? The par 3 8th has lost some of its greenside bunkers, and charm, but none of us parred it. The final hole is a neat driving hole, before hitting up the the hill to a raised and somewhat shabby green. I had another memory flashback about the smell of meat pies from the long-gone halfway house between the 9th and 10th. And of playing with Glenn Thomas, the junior Tom Kite of Indooroopilly Golf Club, as he nervously putted out in near darkness on the 9th one Saturday afternoon to shoot a few under par. Funny what one remembers.
We pondered life and other issues over a couple of cool drinks in the bar and concluded the tourney was a cracking success. I pipped Ben by a couple of points in the split sixes to take the crown and I look forward to passing it on at second edition this year or next.
Shirls arrived, and we set off to the 1st tee where some punter with an air of self importance was driving off. Then again. And again. Clearly a practice round, but a bit bold isnt it? Never mind, we were in no hurry.
I know, dear reader, you are all gagging to find out what clubs we opted for. I was confident with Driver, 5 iron, wedge and putter. Ben went with 3 metal, 4 iron, 8 iron and sandy. Shirls opted for 3 metal, 4 iron, 9 iron and putter (I think).
In the 20+ years since the course went public the old links at St Lucia have been adjusted and shortened to cater for the social golfer, but I think the bones are still reasonably strong. It would be interesting to see how the layout would have evolved if it had stayed in 'private' hands. I guess it would have become narrower, more heavily bunkered with tricked up greens for protection against the evolution of golf technology. As it is now the 1st has become a longish slight dog leg par 4, while the 2nd, previously quite a tough driving hole with the road catching any hookers, is now a 152 metre par 3. That didn't stop Shirls hitting on the road though!
The 3rd is a 251 metre par 4, apparently, but I distinctly remember it being a par 3 measuring 232 metres, wasn't it? I bombed one onto the green anyway, my shot of the day, I reckon. It was fun revisiting experiences of our youth as we wandered around the course. The hours spent in the muddy creek, the search for golf balls in long grass, down the river bank and in the bulrushes in front of the 4th tee. And also playing and losing balls in all of those aforementioned places.
We safely navigated the uphill 4th and the little dogleg 5th, which is now denuded of the tricky bunker that previously caught players trying to sneak around the corner, as well as the green-side traps. I had a flashback on the par 5, 6th - just get it to the top of that hill, I thought. Executing such a task seemed to be mission impossible in 1980's with a persimmon driver, but seemed a bit of a snack now. Ben made it home with two cracking 3 metals, the second seemed to fly and fly and fly - magnificent!
Onwards to the 7th, another very pleasant short dog leg. The green is bigger than I remember, and I think has been moved forward a bit, whereas it probably could have been moved back, or tucked further left to make it more difficult, but perhaps that would muck up the passage of the creek? The par 3 8th has lost some of its greenside bunkers, and charm, but none of us parred it. The final hole is a neat driving hole, before hitting up the the hill to a raised and somewhat shabby green. I had another memory flashback about the smell of meat pies from the long-gone halfway house between the 9th and 10th. And of playing with Glenn Thomas, the junior Tom Kite of Indooroopilly Golf Club, as he nervously putted out in near darkness on the 9th one Saturday afternoon to shoot a few under par. Funny what one remembers.
We pondered life and other issues over a couple of cool drinks in the bar and concluded the tourney was a cracking success. I pipped Ben by a couple of points in the split sixes to take the crown and I look forward to passing it on at second edition this year or next.
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