Here I come, Carnegie Hall!

 For those unfamiliar with the old musicians' joke, it goes something like this: 
"How do you get to Carnagie Hall?"  "Practice, practice, practice!"

So today I practiced. Perhaps Carnegie isn't my goal here, after all I actually  have, in my life, performed in Carnegie Hall, twice. Plus several times in the little dinky Carnegie Recital Hall next door. And it's as wonderful as they say. So my practice wasn't to get the the big stage, but to avoid total and complete embarrassment in my round that I'll play with my good buddie and former college roommate, Calvin, later today. (It's 5:23 am right now, I'm working the overnight again, and I'll get a whopping 4.5 hours of sleep before I hit the links. I'm thinking that will be good, since I'll be so sleepy and bleary I won't be able to think, and as I've learned in life, the less you think the better, just about always. 

Anyway, I toodled to the course today, started out on the practice green and did some good work on my chipping and putting. Usually I go to the range first then hit the green, but today I switched it up, and I was much fresher than usual on the putting green. Not that it made any difference, but it wasn't bad. Sunk a couple of good putts and did pretty well with the wedges. 

Then off to the range. I'm often a bit intimidated on the driving range since invariably Tiger Woods is hitting next to me, and today was no different. Pretty ordinary-looking fellow, but boy he could hit the damn ball a long way. There's a kind of drive that I can't hit that takes off like a bullet then seems to rise about halfway through, defying physics, like a Chris Sale fastball. This guy was ripping them off, boom boom boom, like it was easy. I took out my trusty 5-wood-that-isn't-wood and bopped it as far as I could, which compared to this Hulk Hogan wasn't really very far at all, but for me wasn't bad. Did a bit more with my irons today than usual; I figure most of your really important shots are with the irons. A nice drive is nice, but you have to get it to the green, and that's often where I flounder. I mean to hit a robust 5-iron but it turns into an apologetic, wimpy, insipid shot that goes nowhere. And those bad shots add up, score-wise. 

So I hit a bunch with the 5, then a few with my hybrids, then a bunch of quite satisfying shots with my 6-iron, which I'm fond of, then a couple with my 3-iron, which were hopeless. When I started this golf obsession my strategy was to hit it hard with the driver then use the 3-iron in the fairway. I soon discovered that my driver always sliced and my 3-iron was a disaster. Then Adam, always helpful but often a little late in his advice, informed me that the long irons like the 3-iron and the 2-iron (I don't even have one of those) were the hardest clubs to hit consistently. Ah. Good to know. I went out once with a guy who was renting one of our apartments, and I whipped out my 3-iron and swung mightily and it went literally 10 inches. Took out a divot that I swear I could see the earth's magma at the bottom. Then hit it again and it went another 10 inches. I kid you not.  Then, thank God, a great hole opened up in the fairway and swallowed me up, which was a relief. 

So I think I got in some good work today and I'm ready for Calvin tomorrow. We shall see. Stay tuned!

Hit 'em straight!

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