I love golf.
Always have. Always will.
My problem is that golf no longer loves me. Not, at least, as she once did.
As I find myself aging beyond my prime, when I could hit a golf ball 50 to 60 yards longer than now, when I could stand over a five-foot putt without getting nauseous and when a round in the 60s wasn’t considered impossible or improbable, my love affair with the game is becoming increasingly one-sided.
My last round in the 60s came, uh, let’s say that it was more than just a few years ago. I haven’t had an eagle, other than in a scramble, for four years.
I used to keep statistics about my game, things like greens hit in regulation, drives in the fairway, number of putts, birdies, bogeys and those dreaded others. Now I find myself not bothering to scribble down those numbers that at one time told compelling stories about the quality of my ball-striking and putting.
Like everyone else, I have entrusted my game to high-tech equipment. But the improvement has not been as spectacular as I had hoped.
Several years ago I relegated my beloved 1950s Byron Nelson blades to a basement closet. The trusty MacGregor M85 persimmon driver of yesteryear was sold to a collector. My classic Wilson 8802 has been replaced by what appears to be a small flying saucer on the end of a steel shaft. The oldest club in my bag is my sand wedge, which is of 1990s vintage.
Any assessment on the state of the game today would have to give priority to the advent of exotic materials for shafts and space-age golf balls that have granted golfers greater control of ball flight as well as extraordinary distances. And those oversized heads in drivers and scientifically weighted irons almost seem capable of swinging themselves.
There were no surprises the other day when I dusted off my old Nelson irons and hit a few balls. The shots felt great coming off the face of the clubs. But the balls dropped far short of where my modern irons hit the ball. And those modern clubs, while very forgiving, seem short of where I hit the Nelsons many years before.
What I need is not just high-tech equipment, but a miracle pill, something that can take off 15 to 20 years.
Most mornings I wake up and think, “Oh, to be 50ish again,” sans all those nagging little aches and pains that awaken me in the morning and break up my sleep at night. It isn’t going to happen.
Watching Kyle Long, Danny Langerot, Brian Black and Anthony Fink smash shots in the last group of the final round of the recent Joplin Globe City Championship at Eagle Creek Golf Club brought the cold realization that if I were to try swinging like them, all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Clair back together again.
Once upon a time, my swing might have produced something approximating the “whoosh” that accompanied their efforts. But I never, ever transmitted their kind of power to a golf ball.
Today’s game is different than that of yesteryear, as different from the 1970s and 1980s as the 1950s and 1960s were from the 1930s and 1940s. Teaching methods have improved. Juniors learn from professional teachers, not by caddying.
Many, if not all, of the players in the recent Globe City Championship I suspect have taken lessons. They probably learned more about the swing from a local instructor in one afternoon than Ben Hogan ever dreamed of during his early days on the pro tour. There were few teachers back then and Hogan was required to build his swing piece by piece and by trial and error.
I grew up in an exciting era: Arnold Palmer captured the imagination of the golfing and non-golfing world. Hogan, Sam Snead and Nelson were making their last hurrahs. Jack Nicklaus dominated despite challenges from Tom Watson and Lee Trevino.
I wouldn’t change any of that. But, if given the chance, I would happily take a pill to peel away, say, 20 years and give me a mulligan on my long-running love affair with golf.
If you’re over 60, you probably would, too.
Qualifying
The Joplin Women’s Horton Smith Cup team qualifying will be held Monday, June 15, at Carthage Municipal Golf Course and Tuesday, June 16, at Twin Hills Golf and Country Club. Entry fee is $15.
The annual matches with Springfield will be played Monday, June 29, at Carthage and Tuesday, June 30, at Twin Hills. For more information and entry forms, players may contact Sue Browning at (417) 649-7778.
Unusual scramble
The Joplin Golf Club is planning an unusual tournament for club members on Sunday, June 7 at Schifferdecker Municipal Golf Course. I’ve heard of one-man scrambles, but I’ve never participated in one.
The format allows competitors to take a second shot or putt at any time with the proviso that the player must play the second shot. Play will be flighted. The entry fee is $10 for JGC members.
Address correspondence to Clair Goodwin at sports@joplinglobe.com.
