It’s Only March

I managed to get out for another early spring nine this past weekend, this time at Green Oaks in Ypsilanti. Green Oaks is an ideal course for this time of year because it drains so well. With the exception of one hole (the twelfth), it avoids the soggy spots that often afflict other area courses. Legend has it that the entire course is built on sand. The greens certainly must be. Ten minutes after a rain storm, they’re perfectly playable.

The mercury said that it was fifty degrees, but with the breezes, the wind chill had to be in the mid-30s. I was wearing a pair of winter golfing gloves, and my fingers still were cold. Still, the sun was out, the sky was (mostly) blue, and I reminded myself that I have played in much, much worse weather.

I was paired up with a local optometrist who also was walking. We both struggled; I had distance issues, and he had a nasty hook. The Doc never saw the right side of anything on the course. Of course, his right side was thirty yards past my middle.

I was a bit discouraged, but the Doc had the right attitude.

“Hey,” he said on several occasions. “It’s only March.”

And of course he was right. In Michigan, spring golf is a precarious thing, and it’s not often that weather and work/family schedules coincide. There have been years in which my first round was in April. As a High School girls golf coach, we’ve had seasons where there was a threat of snow at every match. There was one year when it was snowing on the day of state regionals in May.

I made good progress with my game yesterday. My ball striking was solid, and most of my shots were on line. I still was a club short—but that’s much better than the previous outing, where I was at least two short. My driving needs a lot of work, though. I keep popping them up, and my average was just over 200 yards. That’s not acceptable.

But hey. It’s only March.