Has a club ever given you the shaft?
I was talking with my seven-handicap son tonight. He was wrestling with the psycho-physio-emotiono conundrum of why a certain club will suddenly die and go cold. For him this night, it was his driver. His TM R7 9.0.
"Dad, I was so sweet with it the last two weeks. You know that sweet high draw of mine...Oh!...man I could drop that pebble anywhere between 250 and 275. Then, yesterday, and again today, the draw was gone. Even the sweet and high were gone. All-over-the-f-ng-place was there instead. Why? Is it...me?"
What do you say to your 32-year old son? "Of course it's you, dolt. You're doing the swinging, the club's just along for the ride." Naw, I couldn't tell him that. I told him: "It's a mystery. Some say the very first golf clubs crafted were forged by an evil wizard who implanted in them a contagious virus that...." You get the idea.
Well, like son like father. For me, it's my five-iron. My five-iron, the club that kept me walking the straight and narrow round after round, year after year, memory after memory...my trusted five-iron has given me the shaft.
I know, you’re saying “Get a grip!” But it’s gone. The touch I grew to love, to rely upon, to cherish...all gone. The feel of it nestled in my palms, entwined by my confident embrace...all gone. The effortless manner in which it lofted gleaming white orbs skyward...all gone, gone, gone.
Now, to my utter shock, my five-iron has abanoned not only the straight, but the narrow. Now, it goes both ways. It’s a hooker. A vicious slicer. A real wild swinger. I am hurt...and rather disgusted.
I’ve tried everything to win my five-iron back. I changed the way I hold it. I’ve given it a ride on different and fantastic planes. Slowly, quickly...it just doesn’t seem to matter. Nothing has worked. It has simply turned its head the other way.
So, what do I do? Give it one last chance to get in the groove? Cut it off and give it to a junior golfer? It took me weeks of anguish to reach a decision, but I did.
I decided that instead of my five-iron, I would take out my four-iron. I am hoping that my five-iron will get jealous enough to stop fooling around.
Oh, so what about my son's driver problems, you ask? He has decided to take it out on his three-wood. He'll just hit the three-wood exclusively off the tee until he drives it crazy.
"Dad, I was so sweet with it the last two weeks. You know that sweet high draw of mine...Oh!...man I could drop that pebble anywhere between 250 and 275. Then, yesterday, and again today, the draw was gone. Even the sweet and high were gone. All-over-the-f-ng-place was there instead. Why? Is it...me?"
What do you say to your 32-year old son? "Of course it's you, dolt. You're doing the swinging, the club's just along for the ride." Naw, I couldn't tell him that. I told him: "It's a mystery. Some say the very first golf clubs crafted were forged by an evil wizard who implanted in them a contagious virus that...." You get the idea.
Well, like son like father. For me, it's my five-iron. My five-iron, the club that kept me walking the straight and narrow round after round, year after year, memory after memory...my trusted five-iron has given me the shaft.
I know, you’re saying “Get a grip!” But it’s gone. The touch I grew to love, to rely upon, to cherish...all gone. The feel of it nestled in my palms, entwined by my confident embrace...all gone. The effortless manner in which it lofted gleaming white orbs skyward...all gone, gone, gone.
Now, to my utter shock, my five-iron has abanoned not only the straight, but the narrow. Now, it goes both ways. It’s a hooker. A vicious slicer. A real wild swinger. I am hurt...and rather disgusted.
I’ve tried everything to win my five-iron back. I changed the way I hold it. I’ve given it a ride on different and fantastic planes. Slowly, quickly...it just doesn’t seem to matter. Nothing has worked. It has simply turned its head the other way.
So, what do I do? Give it one last chance to get in the groove? Cut it off and give it to a junior golfer? It took me weeks of anguish to reach a decision, but I did.
I decided that instead of my five-iron, I would take out my four-iron. I am hoping that my five-iron will get jealous enough to stop fooling around.
Oh, so what about my son's driver problems, you ask? He has decided to take it out on his three-wood. He'll just hit the three-wood exclusively off the tee until he drives it crazy.
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