I’ve lived more than 20 years in Michigan, but I am often still amazed at how much (and how quickly) the weather can turn. This past Monday, it was almost too hot to play, with temperatures reading the mid 90s under bright, sunny skies. This afternoon at our regular Friday league, it was forty degrees cooler and drizzling a light rain in which I am certain I could see snowflakes.
While I wouldn’t trade a Michigan summer or autumn for anything, I do wonder how it would be to live in a Mediterranean climate where temperatures were constantly warm and comfortable. I gould get used to living in a place like San Diego, or have the opportunity for constant play on Spain’s Costa del Sol golf courses.
Most of our league bailed tonight because the course was too wet for carts. They headed to a nearby bar. Going against the grain, my friend Bubba and I decided to walk and practice. It was a very productive eighteen. Bubba tried to straighten out his hook, while I worked on a glaring weakness that had shown up earlier this week in my round at Indianwood: pitching from 20 to 60 yards out. I left many second shots short at Indianwood, and then lost yet another with weak pitches trying to get onto the green. Bubba suggested that I try with a variety of clubs—six iron through pitching wedge—depending on distance. My technique was to take the clubhead back to “handshake” height, and then forward to a “handshake.” By the time we ran out of both holes, and light, I had made some real progress.
Hopefully, the weather will be better next week, giving me the opportunity to practice and to put some new skills into play.