anything is possible

Just read about what one hack did.

colin montgomerie: a successful cogger?

Playing partner Jeremy has brought to my attention the news of Colin Montgomerie's new gal pal. I have warmed to the grouchy Scot in the past year, as have many a fan has due to his marital problems and his apparent new attitude towards the game and his fans.

Here's a pic of the fair wee lass below. Well done Monty! My respect for you grows by the day!


Monty's new squeeze, model Ines Sastre.

If you don't have the foggiest what Monty looks like, here he is at this fall's Ryder Cup. Apparently he's lost about 40lbs in the last eight months or so. So he's got that going for him, which is nice.


Monty anticipates what's to come in the buffet line.

And what, you may ask, is a cogger?

course review: Pemberton Golf and Country Club, Pemberton, British Columbia

Time for a little compare and contrast exercise. Pemberton Golf and Country Club, located a 25 minute drive north of Whistler, BC, in the Pemberton Valley, provides us with the oppotunity to compare and contrast the virtues of Pemberton GCC with that of Furry Creek GCC. I won't waste your valuable time reiterating the experience at Furry, for you can well waste your time quite well by yourself reading it below.


Hitting my second shot on a par 4 at Pemberton GC. Notice the glider in the background.

• At Pemberton GCC, walking, is optional!
  
• At Furry, youze gots to ride dawg. Put some spinners on dem wheels and style!
  
• At Pemberton, the green fee is $55, and the marshals are nice to you. Actually happy to see you. Happy you've chosen their course. Happy that you're spending your dough at their gin joint. At Furry, you're down a c-note and up to here with attitude before you've but titanium to surlyn.
  
  I'm quite up for the occassional fleecing, but fleece me nicely, or I ain't never comin' back.
  
• Happily, you won't get fleeced at Pemberton, unless that is you've encountered a bit of a chilly morning and need to avail yourself of one of the fine outergarments avialable in the homey proshop. But here's a cool thing about Pemberton and the valley in which it lies. It's a lock that you'll have temps at least five to eight degrees higher than those forecast for the lofty heights of Whistler Village. You might wake up to frost on the window in Whistler, but don't worry about any nippy delays when you arrive in Pemberton.
  
• At Pemberton, the first hole eases you into the round with a dogleft left par five, reachable in two if you keep the ball down the right, giving yourself a view of green around the tall stand of pines that punctuate the left center of the fairway.
  
• At Furry, it's sink or swim from the ski jump first tee. Careful you don't break your leg on the way down. Good thing you have that cart to get you to the ambulance.
  
• At Pemberton, the tees, fairways and greens are finely maintained bent grass, and while the attention to detail could be taken up a notch, I think those who own and manage Pemberton know it's place in the BC golf world.
  
• At Furry, they too know they're place in the BC golf world, and Iron Fist is more than happy to tell you about it.

Now that we've compared and contrasted, Pemberton left me with a few sharp memories that I'll carry with me. One, Pemberton makes golf fun, the way it should be for the average player. Some short par fours, a couple that can be reached from in one, and the freedom to spray the ball a bit, go find it, and hit it again. Keeping it in the short stuff isn't always what my game, and perhaps yours is about, so you can still post a respectable score even if you haven't hit it like the Funky one. Second, the 10th hole is bordered on the left by a small airport, which provided golfers with a spectacular glider display all afternoon long. So if you're not playing well, look to the sky, and perhaps you'll be entertained.

Four! (Maybe I shoulda yelled 'two'!") The airport ran along the left side of the 10th hole at Pemberton GCC.

Pemberton GCC is semi-private, which gives the place a homey feel. The staff, each and every one we encountered, were friendly and fun. they didn't allow us to bring our own cooler along either, but at least they had a laugh about it with us. It's the kind of place you can get around in about four hours, and you'll never have to worry about the stroke-per-dollars-spent ratio. You'll even feel welcome in the clubhouse for after-round pitchers, while you settle your bets and talk about playing there again the next day.

Pemberton Golf and Country Club provides a lower-cost, but higher enjoyment alternative to most of the venues found in and around the Whistler area.

While Pemberton GC may not share the high degree of maintenance found at neighbouring Big Sky GC (though Pemberton GC is no goat track by any means), what it does share is the same spectacular valley scenery. There is something truly impressive about seeing your ball rise and fall against a mountainous background - it provides you with a totally different perspective on your ball striking.

course review: Furry Creek Golf and Country Club, British Columbia

Let it be known, for the record, that I have mad skillz.

That is, I am very good at getting mad at the skills that I so obviously lack on the golf course. I'm hitting it as far as I can hit it, under the most control that I can muster, busting it out 270 without falling down, and on occasion, when I pure one and the planets align just so, I can get it out there close to 300 - downwind, with the aid of a hard fairway.

So my long game is there, in some manner of form. My game from 150 in, it's another animal. A super-furry animal of sorts. And quite often, if there is a creek available, I'll want to either jump in it, or deposit a selection, not limited to balls, into said creek.

Which brings us, oddly enough, to the spectacular, yet gloriously stupifying Furry Creek Golf and Country Club. Locating the creek at Furry is not an issue. You could call the Howe Sound backdrop a creek if you so desire, but the drive from the clubhouse to the first tee reveals the creek in question. Furry Raging Torrent of Doom might be more appropriate. The rage of the creek echoes in your ears as you hit from the ultra-elevated 1st tee at Furry, as you attempt to negotiate a 160-foot drop to the fairway below. Something that I, with all my mad-skillz yo, did not achieve in a traditional manner. Two swings and two lost balls later, I found myself dropping a ball at the base of the mountain, pulling 8-iron from 160 on this shortish 339 yard par 4 starter. Nutin' like a smooth, and perhaps generous 7 to start a round.


Furry Creek Golf Club, second green, overlooking Howe Sound. That's me, crouched down, overlooking a bogey putt. I actually made that one.

Allow me to provide you with some insight into my golfing personality - I have a growing grouch on any course sporting the motorized buggy, and the wildly inaccurate geographic position systems they sport. So, two strikes against Furry right off the bat. As I soon found out however, for Furry I'll make the strict exception for the mandatory use of cart policy - but I'll blame that on the dopey architect decided the only possible routing would see the 5th green and the 6th tee nearly 1 kilometer apart. The thought that the cart path system itself at Furry could be hired out for go-cart joy-riding crossed my mind more than once. Take the govenor off that buggy and you really might have something.

Furry is an establishment falling in the highish end golf facilities in the Greater Vancouver area, one that at times will please your eye, while at others frustrating your golfing soul - for both it's design and it's service. It's rare that a course with such a backdrop can leave you wanting more - more from the course, and more from those who are there to serve you during your round.

Try to ignore distraction on the golf course as I might, I am one who has graduated from the Colin Montgomerie school of hearing and sensitivity, and invariably I am negatively affected by less than optimal displays of customer service and eittiquette that I encounter during a round. Case in point at Furry Creek was the resident course marshall, referred to hence forth as Iron Fist, a man who for some reason decided that the first tee was the time to hurry along our two foursomes, of which I was a member of one. Here you have nearly $1000 in revenue standing on the first tee ($89 green fee, plus the $25 breakfasts we dined on prior to our tee time = $115 x 8 = $920), with nary another car in the parking lot, Iron Fist grudgingly snapped cerimonial pics with a couple of digital cameras, muttering constantly about keeping up the pace.

Yea, sure, no problem. What ever happened to "play well!" and "have a nice round"?

I'm all for pace of play (read the soon to be posted round review - working title "Mississippi Burning" - for direct evidence), but jeepers, we've yet to strike a single shot in anger (and oh, there was anger during the loop), and I'm all ready feeling stressed. That, and we had two coolers of "beverages" confiscated by said marshall, who not-so-merrily informed us of the course's policy on alcohol. Yet more stress for yours truly. Not that I should worry, as I was accompanied by no less than three officers of the law, who could surely handle the iron fist of the dreaded marshall. But stressed I am nonetheless.

My stress, and lack of solid play was soon alleviated by the company of a half dozen chaps who I gather with annually, whose charming personalities freshen the most dire occasions with outbursts of foul language and school-girlish giggling that could put a smile on even the most jaded course marshall. Well, the most jaded course marshall excluding the joker at Furry. Present company, and the golf course itself was enough to bouy me from the depths of dispair. Furry Creek is a freakish marvel of nature and dirt engineering. Who ever it was who thought that this piece of real estate, lob wedged between the Rockies and the Pacific is either far smarter than I, or dumber. Perhaps both, because if asked for my opinon on the potential site that now boasts Furry, I'd have told that person to go launch themselves off the edge of the Sea-to-Sky Highway before attempting to build anything this ridiculous.

Furry measures barely 6000 yards from the tips. But as the old saying goes, length isn't everything. Unless you're thinking of a career in the adult-film industry - but even then, you've gotta have stamina. And stamina is something that Furry has in spades, 'cause this Mistress will give you some seri-ass rug burn.

The round at Furry was punctuated by the sudden approach of a storm that brought cold rain that quickly turned to small, yet surprisingly powerful hail as I teed it up on the 4th hole. I'm always telling anyone who will listen (and that's really not that many people), that I play better in the rain - but not this kind of rain. No one plays better in this kind of rain. It was a hard, cold rain. Straight down, big drops, hard. peppered with small pellets of hail. Delightful. There was no option of turning back however, as before we teed off, the Iron Fist, perhaps too happily informed us that if we tee off, we waive our right to a rain check. So it should be noted that when you make your decision to hit that first tee shot at Furry, you're there for the long haul, regardless of the conditions. A policy I found a bit on the harsh side, one most likely instutued by Iron Fist himself.

Now, back to the 4th. The 4th is an ample 566 yard five-par, under normal conditions would be a three shot monster due to it's narrow and undulating nature played that much more difficult due to the soaking conditions. The second shot on this hole revealed an interesting, not often seen feature, an "aiming pole" - a black and white striped stick protruding from the center of the fairway, approximately 200 yards from the green. A fixture on a half-dozen holes at Furry, I paid heed to these markers as best I could, which sadly was not as well as I should have on most occassions.


Playing partner Cam Marshall hits on the par 3 14th at Furry Creek, aka, the Happy Gilmore hole. His ball landed in the very bunker in which Happy and Bob Barker duked it out. Sadly, all my memories of the hole will not be good ones, as I hooked two balls into the Pacific for a smooth six.

I both hope and worry that my experience at Furry Creek was not representative of those experiences had by others venturing to this course. On a day that is perhaps less than sopping, and on a day that Iron Fist is on holiday at Alcatraz, you'd be hard pressed to find any course, anywhere, with more eye-candy than Furry.

Let it be said, Furry Creek is a be-yatch of a golf course. And I ain'ts gots dem mad skilzzzzz to handle it yo. When we playing it again? Let's just call ahead to make sure the Iron Fist isn't marshalling that day.

gettin' it done at 96

I should be so lucky. Check out this story about a spry gentleman named Jack Simpson of North Bay, Ontario. Jack hits it three times a week, and heel-toe's it to boot!

So, next time you see a healthy youngster (80 years of age or younger) riding a buggy, tell him about ol'Jack.


96 year old Jack Simpson shows how it's done.

Mr. Simpson plays at Pinewood GC, an executive track just south of North Bay, close to where I grew up. Pinewood was the only track we could get on when I was growing up. This was with many thanks to one Doug Bell, who for a long stretch was the professional at North Bay Golf and Country Club. Mr. Bell was the personification of evil when I was a junior at NBGCC, casting a discouraging eye on all wet-behind-the-ears types. To avoid his wrath, we'd tee it up at Pinewood rather than attempt to sneak past Mr. Bell. It's a miracle any junior who played at NBGCC during his tenure still has any desire to play the game.

stressin' over the canadian open

Editor's Note: This post has been sitting in draft mode for the better part of ten days now. I'm not sure if it's because I'm having a hard time figuring out exactly how I want to express my sympathy for Weirsy, or if I'm just unsure that I want to re-live the entire 2004 Canadian Open experience. It's probably the latter. But enough already, read on...

By the time Mike Weir reached the 16th hole at Glen Abbey on Sunday, I had just cracked my first Heineken. As it turned out, I should have started drinking much earlier.

Watching Weir attempt to close the door on Vijay at the 2004 Canadian Open was excruciating for this Canadian to watch, and I can imagine, one-hundred times more excrutiating to experience for Mike to experience first hand. I can't begin to think about how it must have felt to have an entire gallery pulling for you, begging you to do what no man had done in 50 years, to be the first Canadian within that time to win the Canadian Open.

Watching Weir win The Masters in 2003 was difficult, but not as difficult as this. At the 2003 Masters, Weir looked comfortable with what he was doing on the back nine during the final round at Augusta National. This time however, it looked like Mike was more than aware of what loomed ahead, and if he could just get to the house quickly enough, everything might be ok. He appeared to be too aware of the situation, too eager to have his picture taken with the Mounties, holding the trophy in one hand and the presumptiously planted Canadian flag from the 18th hole in the other.


Mike Weir blasts from a greenside bunker on during regulation play on the 18th hole of the final round of the 2004 Canadian Open.

At Glenn Abbey, his routine looked ever so marginally rushed - as witnessed by his bunker shot on 18, where an up and down for birdie would win him the championship in regulation play. But who the heck am I to criticize when I have trouble closing out a half way decent round with my friends? After all, I'm nervous over putts that will put me at even par for nine holes. That being said, this guy has more talent in his left pinky than myself and all of my golf partners combined.

What Weir was able to do was to reveal to a massive national television audience in Canada, the very essence of golf.

Each of us who have every played the game with any amount of seriousness, regardless of ability, is forced to battle the inner demon that gnaws away at our ability to achieve what we think is possible. For the better part of a decade, the Canadian open seemed to have Weir psyched out. Missed cuts, complaints about Glenn Abbey, and the expectations that both he and the country foisted upon him all contributed to his lack of success at our national open. For Weir, those are restrictions no longer. At minimum, he now knows what it's like to contend his own national open, and should only be the better for it down the line.

Witness how Weir handled his disappointment at the 1999 PGA Championship. Starting the day tied for the lead with, and paired with Tiger Woods in the final group on the final day, Weir ballooned to an 80. Many Canadians assumed that the experience would be so crushing that we may never hear from Weir again.

I think we might want a mulligan on that assumption.

black forest cake to blame for unprecedented ryder rout

A single fork-full of Mrs. Langer's Black Forest Gateau may have been the ruin of the European side at this year's Ryder Cup. Golf fans the world over, and the participants themselves, are desperately looking for answers after the historic drubbing the United States put upon the visiting European dozen.

The 2004 edition of the Ryder Cup may now be forever known as "MacArthur Park at Oakland Hills" as someone - Mrs. Langer specifically - left the cake out too long for Bernhard (and evidently for Colin Montgomerie as well), as the oversized mass was consumed in short order by both men.

Players are now beginning to attribute the the unimaginable result from this past weekend's matches (the 24 1/2 to 3 1/2 result being the all-time largest differentiation in Ryder Cup history) to the seemingly innocent gesture put forth by Mrs. Langer as the Europeans were about to board their trans-Atlantic flight to Detroit last week.


Here, Bernie is pictured enjoying his mother's extra special Black Forest Gateaux. Little did he realize what the result of his mother's loving gesture would be.

In a surprizing development during the post-round press conferences, a sullen Padraig Harrington placed the demize of his squad squarely on the gateau. "I really couldn't believe it when I saw how much cake Bernhard was consuming," said Harrington. "He just kept eating and eating. All I could think of was that if we were about to enter some manner of cake-eating contest, we would be in good hands with Bernhard as our captain." The problem was of course, that they weren't entering a cake eating contest.

"The last time I saw forkfuls of desert that size was a couple of years ago at the International in Colorado, when Stadler was knee deep in yogenfruz," continued Harrington, referring to the now famous incident that saw Craig Stadler fall back under the spell of his previously exorcised demon. "I actually overheard Mrs. Langer warning him not to have too much cake before he boarded the plane. I caught a bit of something regarding an incident that occurred at his 11th birthday party, and a young Bernhard having to repeat the sixth grade, but I don't want to tell any tales out of school, so to speak."

"All Bernhard was been able to talk about during our team meetings was 'cake this, black forest that'," added Ryder Cup first-timer Luke Donald. "I think he was having a hard time controlling himself. He seemed completely distracted. Frankly, I thought he'd be telling us rookies how to handle the hostile American crowds, and maybe what shirt with what pants we should wear. Stuff like that."

In addition the now obvious affect the savoury delight had on Langer, the chocolate-stained collar of another European team member could not be ignored during the flight to Detriot. Formerly a Ryder Cup stalward, Colin Montgomerie was also under the spell of the devilish gateau, as witnessed by lanky vice-captain Thomas Björn.

"I first noticed his odd behaviour when we were on the plane - he was actually tipping the stewardesses. I've never seen Monty do such a kind thing before. At first I thought the combination of Cristal and caviar had the better of him, but now I remember the chocolate stains on his Ashworths. I really didn't think much it at the time, but when you consider it now, it's no wonder Monty kept conceeding his matches after just one hole of play."

When Montgomerie conceeded to a surprized Tiger Woods after just one hole of their singles match on Sunday, Woods told NBC reporter Roger Maltbie that "I was shocked by the concession, of course. I well and truly thought Monty was up for a duel, as he seemed to be eyeing me like he wanted to have me for dinner."

As it turns out, not for dinner, but perhaps for desert.

"Monty had the blind-staggers all weekend. He was going around apologizing to everyone he may have ever offended in his lifetime - including the American fans," said Björn. "It was quite bizzare."

The reprecussions from this year's Ryder Cup will certainly be felt in Europe, where a call for a ban on the now controversial, yet traditional Black Forest Cake, has already been brought down by the European Union.

work on your stroke

For those who just can't get enough practise, you will be pleased to know that you can work on your putting while availing yourself of your facilities.


The Potty Putter. Seriously.

If you really feel it necessary, you can pick one up at your local Golf Town, or you can order online here.

stephen ames - canada's answer to scott hoch

For the past four or five months now, PGA Tour professional Stephen Ames has been showing up in bold in the weekend's golf results in our Canadian papers - a typeface treatment usually reserved for born and bred Canucks. Canadian media is always quick to latch onto something with the slightest Canadian angle to it, but apparently the US media has caught on, as witnessed at the most recent World Golf Championship event (the NEC Invitational), where the Canadian flag flew next to his name on the leaderboard during the television broadcasts.

Ames was born in Trinidad and Tobago, and played for TnT (with his brother who sometimes caddies for him) at last year's World Golf Championship team event (dubbed the World Cup) - an event for which Canada did not qualify. However, Ames married a woman from Calgary, and now makes his primary residence there, and has recently become a Canadian citizen back in the spring.

And here I am, having just started to come around to the thought of how it would be nice to see another golfer representing Canada at the World Cup and at the President's Cup when I read this story. Ames landed in hot water with US Immigration authorities a few years back when he attempted to enter the US from Canada without the proper paperwork, an issue which while long resolved, didn't do much for the gentleman's image either.

If he was not already precluded from officially representing Canada internationally, this was perhaps Ames' first and best opportunity to engratiate himself to the Canadian golf fan, and he blows it. And how is it that he's not into team events if he's competed in the World Cup? Did he do so grudgingly to appease some childhood debt to his brother? Whatever the case may be, you might bet getting the idea that I'm not really a fan of Ames - be he Canadian, TnT'er, or Martian. I must grant taht Ames has been having a lovely year on tour, ranking eighth on the money list and climbing to 19th on the World Golf Ranking, and certainly deserves buckets of credit for his play.

Ames could have easily blown some PR-driven smoke about how it would be nice to represent his new country, but I may have lambasted him for that too. I may just not like the cut of his gib. Plain and simple.

However, if Ames isn't careful, spouting off about not enjoying team play and indirectly implying that he isn't terribly interested in representing Canada, he'll quickly become this country's answer to Scott Hoch.

superior golf (lake superior that is)

This photo, courtesy Grant Ross, depicts a recent outing at Peninsula Golf Course, in Marathon, Ontario.

Grant Ross, a member of the Ross-McAllister Hackfest Championship dynasty, displays his fine etiquette as witnessed by his deft touch on the pin. Dave, at left, looks on in amusement as mock-assault on an unsuspecting playing partner occurs in the background.

Interesting to note that the Peninsula Golf Course, a nine hole track, was designed by Stanley Thompson. Here are some noteable courses designed by Mr. Stanley that you might recognize.

• Banff Springs Hotel GC, Banff, Alberta (1927)
• Cape Breton Highlands, Nova Scotia (1935)
• Capilano, Vancouver, British Columbia (1937)
• Cataraqui, Kingston, Ontario (1928)
• Jasper Park Lodge, GC Jasper, Alberta (1925)
• St. George's, Toronto, Ontario (1929)

In addition, Stan the Man designed the original nine at North Bay Golf and Country Club, a course that befuddles me to this day, despite having played it more than a few hundred times.

why golfsmack?

Why indeed. Why the need for another blog? Why force you to come all the way over here to read about golf from the perspective of a perpetually tortured mid-range handicapper who thinks he can better, if only he had the time to practice.

Quite simply, I noticed that micromcallister was becoming cluttered with golf content, I've decided to move all of golf related posts here. micromcallister will remain, and will focus more on those things that occur during daily life. For that reason, and because some of you really don't care about what I shot under what conditions or if I hit a knock down eight iron on the 11th.

Odd how some people are.

making comments

A couple of months ago I added Blogger's comment feature to my blogs. I enjoy getting your feedback - I'm always intested in hearing what you have to say about what I've written.

At this point, this site accepts comments on an anonymous basis from readers - a practise that I may soon curtail as a result of a recent comment made by a reader.

I'm the first one to call myself a moron in many instances, however, from here on in, I'm requesting that if you wish to add your two cents, please add your name to your comment. You are more than free to call me any name in the book, but please have the intestinal fortitude to put your name to your smack.

I'll have that much more respect for you in the morning.

memo to tiger woods: what not to wear

Yo, Tiger.

What up with the bad hats and the pleats? Don't play dumb. You know what I mean.

Let's start with the chapeau. The foamy peak atop your forehead (umm, which is quickly becoming a fivehead, which might explain your aversion to the in vogue visor). The near total lack of bend in the peak. I think your choice of headgear, along with the pleats in you pants are holding your game back.

Why, after seven years of sporting your lid in a definitively milquetoast fashion, do you insist on choosing a hat like the one pictured below, and then actually wearing it? I'll take it all back if you're actually going old school on us like these. But somehow, I doubt it.

Buy a hat like that, get a free bowl of soup.

Quite frankly, I'm surprised that you haven't lost that beanie during some of your breezier rounds, having it perched so perilously atop the coiffe. You'd think for $60 million per annum that Nike pays you that they would have the good sense to put you in a hat that doesn't look like it should be askew upon the noggin of the host of one of those cornball sunday morning fishing shows.

And those pleated pants! Please! I suppose if you stick with them long enough they'll come back in fashion. I hear that Nike employs a specific tailor on your behalf to provide you with exactly the cut you're looking for. I guess I should be pleased that I don't see my local muni full of Tiger pant clones. That would be just too much for any one man to endure.

So, two words dawg: flat front. With the shoulders of a prototypical NFL defensive halfback, you hardly need to make your waist look slimmer, so I'm not sure what you're thinking with the pleats. Maybe Elin likes them. If that's the case, you're off the hook. No more grousing. But I'm sure a fashion-wise Scandanavian ex-model knows better. SHE MUST.

Forget all the talk about needing to go back to Butch Harmon, and that Hank Haney is giving you bad advice. Your problem is clearly your fashion choices. Since 2000, your competition has looked to your swing and your dedication to fitness as the standard against which they should measure themselves. It's time you took a look at what your comrades are wearing, and then take it to the next level, a la one Mr. Ian Poulter.

Ian Poulter, setting an example for Tiger.

At this point Tiger, with a majorless streak approaching double digits, and the ever looming threat that you'll be recruited for the first celebrity edition of What Not to Wear, you've got nothing to lose. Heck, go pantless if you have to.

this is one sick witch

Whistling Straits that is, where they are playing the PGA Championship this week. This looks like an absolute beast of a course. More than 1,400 bunkers? Longer than 7,500 yards? It's a pitch and putt really.


Whistling Straits. Yikes!

Apparently Vijay, after playing a practise round there yesterday, bemoaned the fact that he had to hit 3 irons into a few par fours. Boo-freakin'-hoo. This isn't the John Deere Classic Vij.

Lorne Roberts sez that 10 OVER par might win. Egad. Somehow, I doubt it.

The more sober among us will recognize that the pampered touring pros tend to whine without just cause most of the time. Once they get into it, and if the wind doesn't howl off Lake Michigan, the winning score should be under par. I'll say 7 or 8 under.

The winner? Glad you asked. If the course is as tough as everyone seems to be saying it will be, and if the wind /weather is a factor - which apparently it always is at this venue, then the winner should be: Tiger.

Tiger is probably the only one who can mentally endure the torture that this course / condition combination can dish out. Not that it matters who finishes second, but I'm picking Weirsy. After seeing an interview with him last night where he said he feels better about his game now than he has in a very long time. Mike usually doesn't blow smoke about the state of his game, and he's as tough as nails - but he just won't be as tough as Tiger this week.

pga championship validation

From micromcallister, 8/30/2004.

Ok. So I was off with my Woods / Weir prediction.

Way off.

Please note however that a score of -8 was good enough to get Leonard, Vijay, and Dimarco into a playoff.

Luke warm props to me.

it's tuesday so it must be raining

From micromcallister, 8/10/2004.

Martine is having horrible luck with her Tuesday golf league this year. Looking out the window, ignoring the fine industrial park view that my office location provides, I see a dark, dank looking sky that is said to be carrying copious amounts of moisture. This would make the second time this year that an outing of hers at The Marshes will (read might) be cancelled.

Hopefully the skies will brighten later in the day. But if they don't, at least I won't have to endure another Tuesday night of McDonald's / Pizza Pizza for dinner with the kids.

what i did on my next summer vacation

From micromcallister, 8/4/2004.

Look at this picture.

This is the ninth green at the Carne Golf Links in Belmullet, County Mayo, Scotland. If you squint your eyes, you can see me hitting a knock down 8 iron from 126 yards there in future summer, just beyond the hillock on the right.

Now, read this.

Understand? Thought you might.

new grips

From micromcallister, 8/4/2004.

I have these new grips on all my clubs. They're not the ones I asked for, so they gave me a bit of a deal by regripping my 7 wood, 4 wood, and driver for free. They're weird looking grips. Distracting. Very sticky. Too sticky? Almost. I'm not sure if I'm keen on the new grips.

gulbis

From micromcallister, 7/29/2004.

Golf's answer to Anna may be this young lass. Honestly, I think she has more talent than that, but she has her own calendar that deserves a glance.

Note that this post has been made based on demand from readership only and in no way objectifies the individual nor expresses any desire on the writer's behalf to purchase the aforementioned calendar.

weekend update, with round review

From micromcallister, 7/27/2004.

I drove to North Bay early on Saturday morning, spending some quality time with my girlfriend* along the way.  I arrived at Dad's around 9.30 am, where upon we went directly to Tim's, without passing go. We always see someone we know when we hit Tim's on Trout Lake Road, and this time was no exception as Jerry Stewart dropped by to say hello. For those of you I play hockey with, and who therefore know Jeremy and Graeme, that's their Dad.

(Almost forgot! Dad likes the new girlfriend very much. He thought that I had hooked up with another sporty number in blue that I was eyeing while he was in Kanata a few weeks back. I think he likes this one much better.)

Next we headed downtown to run an errand (an unsuccessful attempt to retrieve the much-sought after field tomatoes at a makeshift farmer's market that had been set up in a vacant lot between Oak and Main).

Now home for lunch. Some manner of turkey with non-field tomato on white. And a beverage. Now off to Osprey Links, a newish course just south of North Bay. Not a bad track at all, though the fairways on the linksy-style front nine could use a little love / luck with its winters.

Our host for the day was John Marshall, father of Cam, with whom my Dad and I had an annual father-son thing going for a while. Cam moved to BC to work for Ballard four or five years ago, so it's been hard to keep it going.

My front nine started well, as I birdied the first and parred the second. Somehow though, I ended up shooting 49 on that side. I will attribute a few of the strokes in this ungodly number to our host John, as he prodded me into cutting some corners I shouldn't have and taking some risks that were ill-advised at best. Nevermind. I'm quite good at making my own mental errors on the course. John just happened to be there to facilitate.

Happily, the back nine was a different story. Here's my card for the shorter, yet much tighter and more undulating of the two nines.

Par      5 3 4 4 4 3 5 3 4  Total 35
Score  5 3 4 4 5 3 4 3 5  Total 36

I caught a nice break on 11, as the rock outcropping to the left of the green bounced my ball back onto the green. My bogey on 14 was a result of not getting up and down from just off the green. The birdie on the par 5 16th came after almost holing my greenside bunker shot for an eagle. The long par 3 17th (195 over water) looks okay as a 3 on the card, but my 7 wood ended up just 3.5 feet from the hole, so I can't help but think that I should have been -1 with one hole to go. That thought was the kiss of death, as this is what I was thinking while standing over the putt - and of course, I missed the putt. It wasn't a misread, but poor alignment that caused the miss, as I felt that I hit a perfect putt, only to have John tell me that I was aiming that way.

Anyway, on to 18. A smooth 4 wood to 128, and then a crisp yet not overcooked 9 iron to an elevated green. I hit a solid shot that landed just on the front fringe, but, due to the angle of descent, released to the back of the green. 40feet and two putts to an even par 35. Easy! Except I three-jacked it. What a dope!

An odd way to end up with 85, but I'll take it.

On Saturday night Dad and I were invited to John and Jane's for dinner. The Marshall's have an amazing house on Trout Lake - love that house, and if they ever decide to move one day, I want first dibs. Suppose I'd have to be able to get a job in North Bay and uproot the family unit. Details! It had been four years since I saw Jane, and it was pretty special to see her - she was always very motherly to me and Cam's friends, always making us feel welcome and like part of the family. After a few before-dinner drinks and a couple of hours of catching up, John sparked up the Jacuzzi (his circa 1977 bbq, not a spa / hot tub) and put on the steaks. After second helpings of both dinner and desert (Jane broke out the cobbler for the occasion!), we tapped into the Zambuca. Dad did not partake as he wanted to take the girlfriend home himself.

I promised Jane and John that it wouldn't be four years before I visited again. Hopefully Martine and I will drop by there when were up with the kids later this summer.

I won't get into such a blow-by-blow account of Sunday's round, unless you want me to that is...

It was just Dad and I up at NBGCC on Sunday morning. I felt like I was entitled to shooting 75 or less after the previous day's back nine. Entitled I was not. Ended up with 86 - 44 front, 42 back. Finishing on a positive note is always a good thing, and I did just that going one over for the last six holes. I birdied 16 and nearly holed a chip for another birdie on 18 - still can't believe it didn't go in. Those of you who know the 18th at NBGCC (formerly the 9th prior to the re-routing that took place a few years ago) will attest that it is nearly impossible to stop a ball from rolling off the green from above the hole.

Based on Dad's performance with the driver (my old Accuform behemoth), I've taken it to get reshafted. While he hit's it well, everything is off to the right. I fear that he's gonna quit the game if someone or something doesn't straighten him out. Hopefully a bit more whip in the ole shaft will do the trick and help get that face squared up.

*girlfriend = bmw

crazy golf, online

From micromcallister, 7/23/2004.

Here is a nice little online diversion.

tremblant spring golf trip

From micromcallister, 7/8/2004.


Martine, me, and our SpringCreek neighbors Joe and Lisa on the first tee at Geant on June 22, 2004. 


Big hitter the Lama. Long. 

masters approaching

From micromcallister, 3/2/2004.

It's just a little more than a month now until The Masters - the first bankable sign that spring has arrived. Keep in mind that weekend prior to the Masters, we put the clocks forward one hour. Daylight until 7 PM. Everybody out of their caves!

golfobserver.com

From micromcallister, 2/19/2004.

Since pgatour.com has become little more than a very fine live scoring tent, peddling little more than "these guys are good" "articles", I have been yearning for a central location on the web where one can find a compendium of the days golf-related articles from around the globe.

It's GolfObserver.com to the rescue!

If it's wintertime, rainy (rain is no excuse not to play mind you), or if you're just plain bored at work, you can get your eyes on a wide range of golf-related material - which makes the winter shorter, turns the rain into a mist, and shortens a tedious work day when you're procrastinating, yet again.

For a prime example, check out this really cool story about Pebble Beach from 1929, published in The American Golfer. The 18th hole looks much the same, if you can ignore the lack of new retaining wall they installed a few years ago to keep the surf from devouring the most famous American golf hole, along with the presence of the majestic pines in the right center of the fairway. Bet it cost less than today's $380 to have looped it back in the day.

michelle wie narrowly misses cut

From micromcallister, 1/17/2004.

While she didn't make the cut, Michelle Wie was awesome this week at the Sony Open. She shot 2-under 68 yesterday, missing the cut by just one shot. She beat or tied 49 men who play on the best tour in the world, including Stuart Appleby (who won last week at the Mercedes), Scott Hoch, Craig Stadler, and Adam Scott. Not bad for a grade 9 student, who happens to be female.

To put this in further perspective, when he was 16, Tiger played the LA Open (now the Nissan Open) and didn't come close to making the cut. Crazy.

All those who complained that a sponsor's exemption shouldn't be wasted on a 14 year old girl should be seriously reconsidering their words. If she's good enough to be out there full time, which to me she has proved that she is, she'll be there. She'll go through q-school or she'll use sponsor's exemptions to earn enough money to earn her card (as Tiger did in 1996). I'm convinced that she'll not only play on the PGA Tour as a regular one day, but she'll win. More than once. For those who say that women should play with women, and men with men are missing the point. The PGA Tour is for the best players in the world, regardless of gender.

no pins, good scoring

From micromcallister, 11/24/2003.

With temps hovering around 7 degrees, I drove out to the 'sippi around noon on Sunday to see tarps covering the tees and greens. Gate locked. Bummer. Then, drove up to Almonte, and across to Greensmere GC. No tarps, six cars in parking lot. A couple of twosomes visible in the distance. Decided to tee it up. Checked the clubhouse - no one home to take my money. Free round! No tee blocks out, no pins in holes. No matter! Played 18 holes in 2.5 hours. Had three birdies. Shot a completely unverifiable 78.

Here's my card, from memory:

Hole | Par | Score | Agonizing Details If Anyone Cares But Me

1 | 4 | 5 | short of green in two, chip, two putts

2 | 4 | 4 | good drive, 8 iron to 15 feet, two putts *GIR (green in regulation)

3 | 3 | 4 | 7 iron to 35 feet, downhill putt, three jacked it *GIR

4 | 5 | 7 | poor drive - toed hooked it a bit - yanked second from a ridiculously slice lie, blocked third into trap, exploded to 35 feet, three putts)

5 | 4 | 5 | drive barely in bounds, 8 iron missed green left, chip 8 feet past, two putts

6 | 5 | 4 | solid drive, 4 wood beside green in two, flopped it to one foot, birdie *GIR

7 | 3 | 3 | 8 iron to middle of green, two putts *GIR

8 | 4 | 4 | mediocre drive, 7 iron to back right of green, two putts *GIR

9 | 4 | 4 | solid drive, 9 iron over back of green, great flop to 2 feet, par

Out | 36 | 40 | a generally soggy front nine, played generally steady if unspecatular golf, but 5 GIR.


10 | 4 | 5 | booming drive of Forsbrandesque proportions, SW over back, good flop, two putts

11 | 4 | 5 | poor drive, chunky short with second, on in three, two putts

12 | 3 | 3 | crazy downhill par three, hit nice easy draw with PW to 20 feet, two putts *GIR

13 | 4 | 5 | good 4W off tee, short of green with second, chip, two putts

14 | 3 | 3 | middle of green with nine iron, two putts *GIR

15 | 4 | 3 | great drive up left side of fairway, settles in rough, perfect SW yardard, hit it to 10 ft, made right to left putt, birdie *GIR

16 | 5 | 4 | from extreme right side of tee box hit a great drive, 4 wood from 230 to 25 ft, two putts, birdie) *GIR

17 | 4 | 5 | crap drive, fattish 8 iron short of green, chip on, two putts

18 | 5 | 5 | poor drive forces pitch out to 200 yard marker, 7 wood to 15 ft, two putts, par *GIR

In | 36 | 38 | best round of the year, 10 GIR doesn't sound like much, but even those greens that I missed were not greviously missed.

I should move the family to Scotland. I thrive in the bad conditions. Either that, or I just don't have the patience to play rounds that last longer than three hours. I think that the less time I have to think about my swing and where my score stands (which I should never do anyway), the better.

Also, there's something to playing without pins. Not knowing the hole location cleared my mind. Aim at the middle of the green and just swing away in a Zen-like state. No temptations to go for sucker pins. If I blocked it a bit I'd merely be on the right side of the green. If I pulled it a bit I'd be on the right side. Either way, my GIR (greens in regulation) stat went way up. If you can putt even just a little bit, you should be able to avoid the big number or two that always seems to ruin a good round.

Goal for next year: aim at no pin, no matter how tempting. I hope you enjoyed the account of my round. I am willing to post additional round reviews, dating back as far as Royal Troon, circa 1984.

never asking jamie to golf again

From micromcallister, 10/27/2003.

On request, I make the personal assertation that I will not ask Mr. Jamie to join me for a round of golf again. Ever. This promise stems from Saturday's round at Stonebrige, when, on or about the 8th hole, Jamie proclaimed that he "really didn't enjoy the game".

As difficult as this is for me to believe, I do empathize with Jamie, possessor of a fine looking swing that produces a modicum of decent results. These decent results only usually only eminate from his game when he is fully engaged in the moment, and not when he is concerning himself with next spring's arrival of his third child or with what to do about his obviously troublesome fall / spring jacket purchase.

I cannot imagine not enjoying the game of golf, even if I "underachieved" as much as Jamie - which I more than often do.

Jamie is a hearty sort however, so I must give him props for that. He did join us (his brother Jeremy, minstral Andy, and yours truly) for a round that could best be described as "crisp".

Jamie has found personal issue with this blog for his lack of but one early reference, which I trust has been rectified by this denunciation of his personage, if only for a short time.

If any of us learned anything from Saturday's round, it is this: I am the man to beat.

private course

From micromcallister, 10/20/2003.

Jeremy Boyes and I played The Marshes on Sunday. Great day! We basically had the course to ourselves... there wasn't much wind, and when the sun did decide to shine, any chill that was present was taken away.

I must say that The Marshes is a fine fine track, but, if the euro tour does play there next year, the pros will go low, very, very low. The fairways are way wide and the greens are large. I know they'll trick the course up a bit for the event (grow the rough, slick the greens), but really, 25 under won't be out of the equation.

Jeremy heartily agreed, but noted that Monty likely won't show for these very reasons as he likes his venues tight. That must be why he's won so many US Opens. Hmm.

golf balls, delivered

From micromcallister, 10/10/2003.

Being a bit of a snoot when it comes to my golf ball of choice, I surprised myself this week when I ordered three dozen "nearly new" golf balls over the Internet, from a retailer in Mississauga. Knet Golf delivered the 36 balls in 24 hours (1.5 balls per hour!).

The site assured me that these balls haven't been sitting at the bottom of a pond for a few months. Rather, they were logo overruns or balls with minor cosemtic blemishes (I noticed that the stamping of some of the logos was smeared on some). But, at $20 a dozen as opposed to $30 a dozen at the local golf store, why not give it a try?

If nothing less, I can blame my next round score on "wonky Internet balls".

a fine round

From micromcallister, 9/29/2003.

Hit the 'sippi with Jeremy yesterday afternoon for a little small ball on the big green field. I played like I didn't have a care in the world - nor a care for my score evidently - but I was heartened to see Jeremy push it around the front in just 39. Not bad a bad score for the recently defibbed one.

Shot of the day status goes to Jeremy for his interesting, never before seen Reverse Slingshot on the par 5 16th hole. On his second shot from the left rough, Jeremy had a few smallish pines to negotiate. Struck well, his three wood squarely hit the top third of one of the small pines, whereupon the pine bent like a firm noodle, and sprung back to vertical, sending Jeremy's ball arching back over his head. Jeremy was then lying two, 15 yards further from the hole.

eurotour ottawa

From micromcallister, 9/23/2003.

Schedule next summer's vacation time accordingly. SLAM! Sports - Golf Europe - Foreign exchange

Update August 31, 2004: this never happened.

props to tl1

From micromcallister, 9/24/2003.

TL1, aka Todd Landry, hung up an impressive 77 last Sunday at Greensmere. Unlike myself, who has the ability to turn a sub-80 round into an 85 on the last two holes, TL1 birdied 17 and parred 18. Well done Todd, you, are, the, man!

the royal is one sick witch

From micromcallister on 9/15/2003.

I did play golf this weekend - at Royal Ottawa Golf Club... a venue with greens so fast they both frightened and excited me.

I kept short-siding myself (missing the green to the side where the pin is located on a green), leaving myself very touchy flops to tight pins... ball-striking wise, the round was ok - but my short game was not nearly up to the test.

While I posted by far my worst score of the year (102), I can't begin to rate the round based on score - the course was absolutely phenomenal - old school - not long by modern standards (just a little of 6000 yards from the whites) - with postage stamp, slick-as-granite putting surfaces. I was giddy with excitement on every hole, and agape at how most of my putts ran happily past each hole. I counted four four putts and four three putts on my card.

Many thanks to playing partner and host Scott Thompson, who provided tips for me on every hole. Sadly, I was unable to execute on most of this good words, instead, finding the exact opposite location to what was instructed. Scott's 30 foot bomb in the gloaming in front of the patio of the 18th hole, proved to be the highlight of the day - a putt the did not go unnoticed by the appreciative diners looking on.

don't step in my line

From micromcallister, 9/8/2003.

I played golf on Saturday, at Stonebridge, with my father-in-law, and two of his friends from Val d'Or. This turned out to be my worst scoring round of the year, thanks to a horrible display of putting.

My putting stroke has actually been quite reliable this year, having recently gone 72 holes without a three-putt. I had six three-putts on Saturday, and avoided a couple of four-jacks by making an eight footer on East 6 and a six footer on West 4. I can say, without hesitation, that my putting, and my game in general, was thrown off by a glaring lack of courtesy and etiquette on the part of one of my playing partners. This gentleman (not my father-in-law), had the fury-inducing habit of stepping in, or on one occassion standing in the direct line of my putts on, from what I can accurately recall, 12 of the 18 greens. Michelle Wie got in trouble this summer for stepping in the extended line of a playing partner's putt. If it were simply that, I wouldn't have given it a second thought. But putting through footprints gave me a bad case of the yips. Granted, this wasn't the US Open, and I can be a bit of hard-ass when it comes to the common courtesies of golf. I shouldn't let crap like this bug me, but it does. This falls in the same category as the doode who won't turn off his constantly ringing cell phone at the movie theatre, or the tailgater who has his grill up your ass on the drive home.

I am willing to let the odd mis-step go on the greens, as people can make honest mistakes - for example, they may be so wrapped up in their own game that they don't realize where you ball mark is located for example. People who do this are usually quick to apologies for such an error.

After the third or fourth instance when someone walks in one's line however, it starts to become somewhat of a distraction, and you start to think that he might even be doing it on purpose. Happily though, I don't think he was doing it on purpose. Simply, and quite sadly, he just didn't care.

I'm quite willing to forgive ignorance, but not willing to forgive someone who just doesn't give a rats ass about how his actions on the golf course affects others. He either didn't think walking in a putting line impacted the roll of the ball (which it does) or impacted the concentration of his playing partner (which it did) - or, he simply didn't care. All of the above apply in this case.

It's not as though this gentleman was new to the game and unaware of the basic manners of golf - this person likely plays more than 100 rounds a year. I play golf for a few of reasons - for the cameraderie, to get outside, to walk around a nice setting for a few hours, and sometimes, to posting a decent score. At least I was outside in a nice setting on a nice late summer day.

Anyway, I've prattled on about this far too long, and I fear that I have revealed too much about how big a stickler I can be about these sorts things. Ah well, screw it. You've got to be passionate about some things in life, and as my father has often said, the way one plays the game of golf says an awful lot about what the person is like off the golf course.