On Monday, I went to my favourite local driving range, The Practice Tee. My goal was to work out my chipping and putting strokes and after an hour or so of it, I didn't think I was half bad.
Pretty good, in fact. Popping little chips on to the practice green... golf balls merrily bouncing onto the green with a little 'poot!' sound and rolling to a stop just inches from the cup. Not bad at all. Over and over again. "Geez," I thought, "if I can get the ball within a lob wedge's distance of the green, I might never three-putt again!"
Oh yeah, I had it coming.
Come Wednesday, I'm ready to go play a round of 9, but I get hung up at work, and I run out of time. No matter, I can still squeeze in some more perfect chip on the practice green. I get there and take a few swings with my fairway wood and irons...and something's wrong. I can't seem to get a clean swing. Okay, relax...line it up...don't rush...oh, crap! Well, maybe a few chips will make me feel better...
AAAARRRRGGGHHH!! Needless to say, the chipping stroke that the Golf Gods gave me on Monday left me completely today. I must have dropped it somewhere on the way back to the clubhouse.
I don't have much time to search for it. It looks like I'll be playing a round at Monterra Golf this weekend, and it won't do any good to have golf balls dribbling off my wedges.
