wailtd

I used to have this little optical monoscope w/ a distance grid on the side as you looked through it. I got it for free from a hunter-buddy. It was great to have in a pinch. When I played competitive golf back in the 70's and 80's, I used to use it all the time, since I was playing different courses all the time. I could get a pretty good read on yardages from the tee to fairways by using the people ahead of me as the "flag stick" to measure on the grid - great on doglegs. Nobody ever told me that it was illegal to use it in tournaments or competition. I played in a foursome with a guy who had an expensive electronic range-finder in the late '90's and I was no more than +/-5 yards off his readings and right on the money for shots 100 yds and shorter. However, I lost the little scope in the "Monty Hall" giveaway of 2000. (My ex-wife sold or gave away all of my stuff). Rangefinders are just another tool that can help you become a better golfer. The fact that a golfer is concerned about "exact yardages" is a step in the right direction for any golfer. Ask a tour pro if he'd hit a shot in a tournament without knowing the yardage and they'd tell you - "no way, I gotta have the yardage, man! Mumma needs a new pair of shoes..." BB

Just say no to the lines, man. The lines are like putting on crack or heroine - way too addictive. When I'm putting and look down the only thing I want to see on my ball is... white. However, when I'm driving and I look down the only thing I want to see is the imaginary image of my ex-wife's face! Once an artist-friend of mine drew her face on a golf ball with an xtra-fine point marker. It looked just like her. I lost that ball after I drove it 350 trying to play short of a water-hazard at 320. My foursome all said "...damn, dude, you got all of that one," after I smoked it right into the lake. I swear when it hit the water I thought I saw a gator dive into the water after it... oh we can dream can't we? BB

Dub says... [I currently have that slot open in my bag. At the moment the rough on the local courses is dormant so you have more options as to shot selection . I've had better results with steeper descent swings from the rough. Hybrids give me best results with these vs woods. The current hybrid I'm gaming is highly versatile. I love the steel shaft, too. It seems to twist less when grass "grabs" at it when swinging through rough.] I've found packing the 5W or #2H is totally dependent on the course conditions. For a course with hairy rough, I go w/ the #2H. For my local publinx course I play most of the time where there is no rough, I pack my 5W. Occasionally I play a Links style "roll-the-ball-everywhere" course and I pack a straight 2-Iron for that. The 17°-20° slot in my bag sees a constant rotation of various clubs as the course conditions change.

I'd gone about ten years without playing and I took it up again. I went about 6 months only going to the driving range and accumulating equipment before I went out for 18. I shot an 80. Before I quit I was about a 5 hcp. But it seems like I've gotten better now that I'm playing again at an older age. Maybe I'm just playing smarter now than I used to when I was younger. I definitely concentrate more on accuracy now than I did when I was younger. When I was young I was all about the Jim Dent 300 yd drive. Now, I'm all about the score.

Another Forest Park Golf Course story. I don't know if this is politically correct but its still a good story. I was 18 and had a summer job that didn't require me to be at work until 10am. I got into the habit of walking out on Forest Park's 18 hole course at the crack of dawn and usually I could get most if not all of a round done and still get to work. Since it was weekdays, the course was usually empty. I'd pay my $10 when I got back to the house because they weren't even open when I hit off the first tee. The proprietors were cool with that and since I was doing it 3 or 4 mornings a week, I got to know the folks there. For a few weeks that summer I started golfing with an Italian Baker from the Hill who worked up the road and was getting off at 5:30am. He'd be in his white uniform and he liked to play right after work. He said it helped him sleep when he got home. I'd met Tony at one of my early morning golf vigils and we hit it right off. He was older than me and he was fearless and talked like a foul-mouthed sailor on leave, but he was very funny and became a good early morning golf partner. One morning we were the first ones out and there's not another soul around. We get to the 4th hole, a dog-leg right par 5 that goes up a hill, leaving you with a blind approach to a green that sits on top of a ridge. Tony and I both hit our tee shots into the valley and then we hit our approaches up the hill. Tony skyed his 3 wood but I blistered mine so I'm thinking I'm either on the green in two or right up next to it. We started to walk up the hill to see how our approaches turned out. The 4th hole's green sits next to Art Museum Road, one of Forest Park's windey roads that run throughout the park. Next to the green was an old masonry building that was probably used as a snack shack or something in the Park's heyday, but was boarded up and not used at the time. That spot and the woods across the street were notorious as the homo-men hookup place. You'd see them all the time, men walking back into the woods or coming out of the woods one then another. Usually they did their thing and the golfers played golf. There was generally no interaction between the two groups. However, that morning we get up to the ridge and our mouths dropped as we saw a couple of young men naked on the 4th's green doggie-stlyin' it on a blanket. My ball was 20' from the pin and right behind them. They had their backs to us so I guess their passion kept them from noticing us. I looked at Tony and motioned him toward the 5th tee. I figured we'd just go around and leave them alone. I was willing to lose my ball not to have to pay them any more attention. I looked at Tony and he turned toward me with a glint in his eye and a big smile on his face and said, "Hell, man, we've got golf clubs and they don't." He reached into his bag and pulled out 3 or 4 balls and his 3 iron and starts hitting worm-burners at them. He's yellin between shots, "...you f#*() homos, get the f#&(

Falstaff, Blatz, Pabst, Budweiser when I was a kid and those were the brands our dads drank. Anheuser Bush-Bavarian when I was a teenager in St. Louis, MO. (Yes, I was around for the "all-you-can-drink" brewery tour - not like the "dixie-cup tour" of today) Corona/DosEquis in my mexican phase. I used to drink boiler-makers w/ mexican beer and tequila. woooooohaaaaaaaa! Now - Whatever's on sale, or "Old-Milwaukee/Milwaukee's Best" if I go to my brother's house.

A long time ago I was playing by myself very early in the morning on a weekday and the course was empty. Forest Park Golf Course in midtown St. Louis is surrounded by city. The ninth hole runs right along Skinker Blvd, a monster 600 yd par 5. Waiting on the tee was a homeless looking guy, dirty and smelly, and holding an old plaid junior bag with no strap and 3 or 4 clubs sticking way too far out of it. "You mind if I play along?" he asked. I was kind of reluctant to say yes, but I figured I'd let him hit off with me and then leave him in the dust and just play on ahead. He said his name was Stevie and he didn't talk very much. His clubs were as near as I could tell an old maple 3-wood, a 5-iron, an old wood shafted niblick with no number on it and a rusty Patty Berg putter. He didn't have a ball so I gave him a few of my beaters and some broken tees I had in my pocket. We hit off and damned if the guy wasn't good. His swing was a bit unorthodox, he spread his legs wide, locked his knees and would swing with his upper body, but he was surprisingly good. He didn't say much, and he didn't give me his scores, but I figure over the 7 or 8 holes he played with me he was at least a couple below par. We hit into the 16th fairway which starts back toward the clubhouse and he was chased off by a greenskeeper in a golf cart who seemed to know him very well. As Stevie ran off he thanked me for letting him tag along and the free balls. I'd also given him a warm Bush-Bavarian I had stashed in my bag from the prior weekend so I think he liked me. It was one of the weirdest golf experiences I've ever had. The greenskeeper came up to me after and apologized for subjecting me (a paying customer) to smelly transient weirdo freeloader golfers, but I waved him off. I golfed at Forest Park hundreds of times since and I never saw Stevie again. Since that encounter, I've always thought there was a golf movie in there somewhere, "Stevie wins the US Open" or something like that, but Adam Sandler did Happy Gilmore so maybe it's already been done. Stevie looked like Happy Gilmore's Caddy, but man, he could play.

He's won three US Amateurs and he knows how to be a great player. As I'm writing this he just shot a 65 @ Barclays... If you're Pavin, you've got to put a Tiger in your tank. But just like ghalfaire says... "keep him away from Mickelson!"

Tiger needs to chill out. Concentrate on the golf and let his assistants worry about his dating schedule. If he doesn't have assistants for that, then he needs to hire some. No matter what you say about Tiger... he can still be SCARY-GOOD!

There's a review right here at the sandtrap - http://thesandtrap.com/clubs/ping_i15_driver_review .