Fear is a valuable but debilitating emotion. It is one thing to fear God and the tornado tearing across the prairie toward your ramshackle farmhouse, rightfully causing you and Auntie Em to run for the root cellar. It’s another to fear failure and thus invite it. How many putts has Kev left woefully short for fear of sending the Titleist down a sloped green to the rough on the other side?
After a camera carom and a flair for the flare handed New York the game the day before, the fireman- turned-arsonist Brad Lidge helped the pinstripers to the brink of a 27th World Series triumph. Eschewing his best pitch, the slider, scared that a wild pitch could plate the go-ahead run, the Phillies’ Lidge served up a two-out fastball to Alex Rodriguez, who stroked the winning hit in the ninth inning yesterday. Might as well have hit him in the ribs again and fired up your team with -- what? A bench-clearing brawl, of course.
It’s bracing how this sporting life teaches us, even as we age ungracefully, that knee-knocking moments, like fatigue, make cowards of us all. Except for Johnny Damon, who used to look more like the Nazarene than Derek Jeter. After a nine-pitch battle, He singled and then promptly walked on water, stealing second and going on to third, taking advantage of an unguarded third base caused by the shifted infield.
Now the Philadelphia team rests its hopes on James Bond, alias Cliff Lee, who was a work of art in the first game. Fellow Arkansan A.J. Burnett goes for the empire on three days’ rest. Expect no parade on lower Broadway yet. Another game will be played in the Bronx.
Meanwhile, Kev loves to putt. Think I’ll roll a few on the carpet right now.
Showing posts with label putting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label putting. Show all posts
Monday, November 2, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
4.25 Inches
Common Wisdom:
The culture vultures said The Beatles were just a passing fad. Ponderous pundits said the United States wasn’t ready to elect an African-American president. The bully George Amberson Minafer (in Booth Tarkington’s “The Magnificent Ambersons”) believed the automobile would never replace the horse. Economists drunk on algorithms thought the unemployment rate would never hit 10% again. Football minds stuck in play-action and the West Coast offense opined the wildcat formation was a gimmick that top-notch defenses would soon defenestrate.
As it turned out:
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. The audacity of hope. Whoa, Nellie. The Great Recession. The return of the single wing.
Yep, the New York Jets’ defensive genius Rex Ryan was befuddled by the Miami offense, just as Alan Greenspan never saw the housing bubble collapse coming. We have seen the future and it works. Sure, there are no fullback spinners in the Dolphins’ playbook, but the new single wing (aka the wildcat) is here to stay, so you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone.
Inserting rookie Patrick White into the wildcat in the fourth quarter with the game on the line gleamed with confidence. Ricky Williams as the crossing back (fullback in the old single wing) in front of the tailback (Ronnie Brown) puts the rock into the hands of dynamic runners with an extra blocker at the point of attack, the key attribute of the single wing.
It occurs to me that I need a new blocker at my point of attack – aka the closely cut greensward that surrounds a hole 4.25 inches in diameter. A new strategy is required. Use your mentality, face up to reality, Cole Porter told us. Once the weather clears, it’s off to the practice green with wedge and putter in hand. Mastering these sticks, breaking 100 will be a snap. Once I do some push ups, reaching the greensward in two will be possible and breaking 90 will loom.
Of course, this strategy risks using up all the good strokes God originally granted me, but I’m willing to believe He has some greater plan in mind for my golf game. As a friend of mine reminds me, God hates a coward.
Then I’ll be infallible and qualified to assume the papacy when Benedict is gone, though some lobbying of the College of Cardinals may be in order.
Picks this week: Take road favorite Cincinnati and give the 2 ½ points against South Florida tonight (QB Tony Pike will expose the Bulls). Take Oklahoma and 3 ½ points tomorrow against Texas at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas (OK, I’m biased, but with two losses OU has the incentive to play the spoiler). On Sunday, take the Saints and give the 3 points against the Giants (Drew Brees is too good to lose at home).
The culture vultures said The Beatles were just a passing fad. Ponderous pundits said the United States wasn’t ready to elect an African-American president. The bully George Amberson Minafer (in Booth Tarkington’s “The Magnificent Ambersons”) believed the automobile would never replace the horse. Economists drunk on algorithms thought the unemployment rate would never hit 10% again. Football minds stuck in play-action and the West Coast offense opined the wildcat formation was a gimmick that top-notch defenses would soon defenestrate.
As it turned out:
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. The audacity of hope. Whoa, Nellie. The Great Recession. The return of the single wing.
Yep, the New York Jets’ defensive genius Rex Ryan was befuddled by the Miami offense, just as Alan Greenspan never saw the housing bubble collapse coming. We have seen the future and it works. Sure, there are no fullback spinners in the Dolphins’ playbook, but the new single wing (aka the wildcat) is here to stay, so you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone.
Inserting rookie Patrick White into the wildcat in the fourth quarter with the game on the line gleamed with confidence. Ricky Williams as the crossing back (fullback in the old single wing) in front of the tailback (Ronnie Brown) puts the rock into the hands of dynamic runners with an extra blocker at the point of attack, the key attribute of the single wing.
It occurs to me that I need a new blocker at my point of attack – aka the closely cut greensward that surrounds a hole 4.25 inches in diameter. A new strategy is required. Use your mentality, face up to reality, Cole Porter told us. Once the weather clears, it’s off to the practice green with wedge and putter in hand. Mastering these sticks, breaking 100 will be a snap. Once I do some push ups, reaching the greensward in two will be possible and breaking 90 will loom.
Of course, this strategy risks using up all the good strokes God originally granted me, but I’m willing to believe He has some greater plan in mind for my golf game. As a friend of mine reminds me, God hates a coward.
Then I’ll be infallible and qualified to assume the papacy when Benedict is gone, though some lobbying of the College of Cardinals may be in order.
Picks this week: Take road favorite Cincinnati and give the 2 ½ points against South Florida tonight (QB Tony Pike will expose the Bulls). Take Oklahoma and 3 ½ points tomorrow against Texas at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas (OK, I’m biased, but with two losses OU has the incentive to play the spoiler). On Sunday, take the Saints and give the 3 points against the Giants (Drew Brees is too good to lose at home).
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Korea, Greece and Ireland
Yin and Yang were on the Hazeltine golf course today in Minnesota. The red-shirted one had yin but no yang, striking the ball with characteristic panache, but taking the name of his father Zeus in vain when his ambrosia-fed muscles failed to make putts sink as they should. Doesn’t Tiger mean godlike in Greek?
I know how you feel, Eldrick. Well, maybe not exactly, because my six- and ten-footers succeed with such rarity that my partners and the foursome behind us look on with shock at a brown leprechaun dancing around the green when his Titleist dips into the cup.
The unflappable Y.E. Yang, on the other hand, had both going for him. The South Korean flag with its yin-yang motif was a suitable symbol for his game down the stretch. You can’t have one without the other if you expect to win, in life or in golf. Scoring an eagle on the par four 14th to take the lead, Yang curled a 200-yard shot on the 18th with a hybrid club and sank the birdie putt to claim the victory while Mr. Woods, probably doubtful of his Olympian heritage, slouched toward Orlando as television cameras predictably followed him first after his bogey putt on 18.
Yang, dressed in all-white like a lamb to the slaughter, didn’t get the memo that you’re supposed to sweat when teamed with Woods when he has a 54-hole lead in a major tournament.
Meanwhile, Padraig Harrington did a favor for all of us weekend duffers by singing “Frosty the Snowman” on a par three. To be Irish is to know that in the end the world will break your heart, Patrick Moynihan said. I’m sure mine will be broken this week on some par three when I don’t have my yin and my yang.
I know how you feel, Eldrick. Well, maybe not exactly, because my six- and ten-footers succeed with such rarity that my partners and the foursome behind us look on with shock at a brown leprechaun dancing around the green when his Titleist dips into the cup.
The unflappable Y.E. Yang, on the other hand, had both going for him. The South Korean flag with its yin-yang motif was a suitable symbol for his game down the stretch. You can’t have one without the other if you expect to win, in life or in golf. Scoring an eagle on the par four 14th to take the lead, Yang curled a 200-yard shot on the 18th with a hybrid club and sank the birdie putt to claim the victory while Mr. Woods, probably doubtful of his Olympian heritage, slouched toward Orlando as television cameras predictably followed him first after his bogey putt on 18.
Yang, dressed in all-white like a lamb to the slaughter, didn’t get the memo that you’re supposed to sweat when teamed with Woods when he has a 54-hole lead in a major tournament.
Meanwhile, Padraig Harrington did a favor for all of us weekend duffers by singing “Frosty the Snowman” on a par three. To be Irish is to know that in the end the world will break your heart, Patrick Moynihan said. I’m sure mine will be broken this week on some par three when I don’t have my yin and my yang.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Sentimental Journey
Our radio crackled nostalgically the other morning with the interference of electrical stuff in the ether on a showery morning in old New York. It reminded Kev that we inhabit an imperfect world. As much as we labor to bend the elements to our will, Zeus will hurl his lightning bolts while we wait out the storm in a west Texas college professor’s office, listening to KLBK dj’s spin “Sukiyaki” and “Hello Stranger” in between reports of tornado sightings.
Wait! Wake up, Kev, it’s not the spring of 1963. No need to cower in the civil defense-approved shelter. The storm is passing, but an eye toward the horizon is only prudent. All decisions, though based on the best information our senses and cerebellums decipher, can fall prey to the reptilian brain that sometimes overwhelms and incites us to do foolish things. This is the reason God made lawyers, bookies, bail bondsmen and fore caddies.
The latest dispatches from the data gatherers tell us that initial jobless claims declined in the latest week and retail sales and consumer sentiment rose last month. These latest green shoots are heartening if not concrete proof that things are on the mend. Who knows if some beetle or blight will devour the hopeful young?
This sporting life is a messy affair, but as long as the supply of chewing gum and duct tape holds out, we’ll muddle through. In other words, the recovery effort is a pastiche led by “experts” (Bernanke, Geithner, et al.) who purport to know something we don’t. Yet they and we serfs, as St. Paul said, are looking “through a glass darkly.”
But look we must, however clouded our view. Kev finally triumphed by going with the bloody ankles against the pinstripers, whose manager continues to refuse to think outside the box. Why not put Rivera on the mound in the 8th inning? The Bucs also put bucks in the pocket with a win over the well-fed Cox-led tomahawks.
How can you go against Halladay tonight in Toronto? Because interleague play is a different proposition. The Marlins get to use a DH and the 10-1 pitcher has to lose at some point. And how about taking the Athletics vs. the Giants, even though Lincecum is on the hill for the McCoveyites? Because young Vin Mazzaro (a green shoot?) has yet to give up a run in his two career starts. Jump on this kid.
However, long shots must be cashed in when they prevail. Got out of General Motors (GMGMQ) at $1.15 after buying at $0.88. We’ll look to get back in at a lower price.
Sticking with PALM (the Pre phone is a beauty, according to a friend who’s seen one), F and NVAX (The World Health Organization says there’s nowhere to hide from the swine flu).
Also considering a new business – opening a Zen putting school. See the ball, be the ball. No blindfolds, though.
Wait! Wake up, Kev, it’s not the spring of 1963. No need to cower in the civil defense-approved shelter. The storm is passing, but an eye toward the horizon is only prudent. All decisions, though based on the best information our senses and cerebellums decipher, can fall prey to the reptilian brain that sometimes overwhelms and incites us to do foolish things. This is the reason God made lawyers, bookies, bail bondsmen and fore caddies.
The latest dispatches from the data gatherers tell us that initial jobless claims declined in the latest week and retail sales and consumer sentiment rose last month. These latest green shoots are heartening if not concrete proof that things are on the mend. Who knows if some beetle or blight will devour the hopeful young?
This sporting life is a messy affair, but as long as the supply of chewing gum and duct tape holds out, we’ll muddle through. In other words, the recovery effort is a pastiche led by “experts” (Bernanke, Geithner, et al.) who purport to know something we don’t. Yet they and we serfs, as St. Paul said, are looking “through a glass darkly.”
But look we must, however clouded our view. Kev finally triumphed by going with the bloody ankles against the pinstripers, whose manager continues to refuse to think outside the box. Why not put Rivera on the mound in the 8th inning? The Bucs also put bucks in the pocket with a win over the well-fed Cox-led tomahawks.
How can you go against Halladay tonight in Toronto? Because interleague play is a different proposition. The Marlins get to use a DH and the 10-1 pitcher has to lose at some point. And how about taking the Athletics vs. the Giants, even though Lincecum is on the hill for the McCoveyites? Because young Vin Mazzaro (a green shoot?) has yet to give up a run in his two career starts. Jump on this kid.
However, long shots must be cashed in when they prevail. Got out of General Motors (GMGMQ) at $1.15 after buying at $0.88. We’ll look to get back in at a lower price.
Sticking with PALM (the Pre phone is a beauty, according to a friend who’s seen one), F and NVAX (The World Health Organization says there’s nowhere to hide from the swine flu).
Also considering a new business – opening a Zen putting school. See the ball, be the ball. No blindfolds, though.
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