The Links at Ivy Ridge is less than a decade old, but it fits like forever. The golf course is rugged, in a way that lets it glow on a March, July or December day, as it did today. The Scrambler, Coil and I snuck out for 18 holes in under four hours, stealing some more holes from our most cooperative triumvirate of closing months.
The wind was up for the first quintet of holes, so we played a variety of knock-downs, punches and runners, as best we could. Scrambler, fresh off a viewing of Golf In The Kingdom, followed by a re-read of Murphy’s tome, took to abandoning technology for older sticks. Wielding some late 80s Wilson Staff blades, a hickory putter and his old Toney Penna woods, he did his best impression of college-age Kevin, making more than his share of pars with the older sticks.
For me, the two-fold examination of the new fitness me (glutes, glutes and more glutes) and the belly putter me (trust the release, trust the release) saw progress on both fronts. Squeezing the glutes and pinching the shoulders at address produced a second round of very good driving with the two drivers that I alternate (one on each nine.) The irons are coming along, but honestly, they won’t be completely ironed until I get some serious practice time in next season.
Concerning the belly putter, I made three birdies (one was tap-in, I’ll admit) and lagged a number of putts up close from a great distance. The only one I really botched was on hole # 2, where I was fifteen feet away for bird and three-jabbed. Truth is, I promised my self I’d try to make every bird, so I was double stoked on that one.
Who knows if December 10/11 will give us more golf…if not, it has been real, 2011!