My Thursday golfing buddies have come up with many nicknames for me and each other.

Most of the names are complimentary. When Stuart Sultze hits a great drive, we sometimes refer to him as the professional golfer, Stuart Appleby, or Sasquatch, the name of his Nike driver.

Some names ascribed to me are nice. Mr. Wizard or Houdini when I make some fancy shots around the green.

Others I sense make fun of me. Papa Smurf, presumably a reference to my white beard.
Mr. Shankster after I hit some shots directly right.

Today after the news that I have a growth on my neck that is cancerous — Lumpy.

To be fair, Mark Wetterholm said he has kept me in his prayers before he called me Lumpy.

Sometimes this name calling is just one of the techniques to get under a golfer's skin so he doesn't do as well. Sometimes it doesn't work.

Today as a group, despite all the psychological pressure put on each one of us, there were 11 birdies among the four of us who played. Partners Neil Fulce and Johnny Evans had 2 and 3, respectively, and partners Sultze and Swenson had 2 and 4 respectively. In the overall team game we tied.

On the front 9, Evans shot a 37 from the  back tees. Neil and Stuart shot 39s.  I was a little miffed I fell to a 35 with a bogey on the 9th hole.

I played the next four holes five over. On the 14th, Evans sunk a 28-foot birdie putt. On 15, he went from a fairway bunker to right up against a tree behind the 15th. Tiger Woods couldn't make this shot, but Johnny Evans did and sunk a 10-foot putt for a spectacular par. On 16, he hit into a green trap and then softly landed a ball 3 feet from the hole on a very small upper platform. An incredible par.

When you hit those shots, the golfing gods are lifting you up. This was clearly Johnny's day to shine in the spotlight of golfing glory.

If he had birdied the last hole as I did, he wouldn't have lost by a shot, 75 to 74.  Lumpy wasn't all that malignant.

Posted by Steve E. Swenson

PS. Worth noting was a 250-yard, over-the-water, second shot by Neil that landed on the front fringe of the par-5 hole, which he also birdied.

One of comedian George Carlin's legendary routines was about the 7 bad words that you can't say on TV.

You can't say them on our website either, which is why I won't repeat them here.

But none of these are the worst word in the English language. The one I'm about to talk about here is. It should never be used.

The word is shank.

Shank refers to a truly ugly swing of the golf club which sends the ball nearly directly right.

It is embarrassing. It is a colossal failure. It is a pivotal event that can make a golfer wonder if he should ever step foot on a golf course again.

It is something my golf buddies want me to write about because of my recent proclivity to shank balls into the water on the 16th hole at Sundale Country Club.

On the 16th tee Thursday, my alleged buddies started saying things like "Mr. Shankster" and "Shanksville."

Their purpose was to put the thought in my head. They are mean that way.

I hit a drive right in the middle of the fairway, though a bit short. I had a 4-iron to the green. I shanked it into the water.

My alleged buddies thought this was a burden on them. "How can we play after that," they smirked. "How can we possibly concentrate now," they asked with their mouths exposing much of their teeth (as if smiling).

Later in the clubhouse, they asked why I don't write more often about the miserable shots I make in a round.

So I'm doing it now.

I would have ended this piece right here, had I not sunk a 15-foot birdie putt on the last hole, winning 13 of a possible 18 skins (worth 25 cents a piece); stealing those skins from a Mark Wetterholm who birdied 17th; propelling my team of Stuart Sultze and myself to win by one hole the other team of Neil Fulce and Johnny Evans; and erasing any linger of negativity from any previous shots that may or may not be associated with a bad word.

Revenge is the Lord's. The cash was mine.

Posted by Steve E. Swenson

 

Men have a sensitivity that is emotionally touching.

I play with a Saturday morning group at Sundale where I mentioned that I had been to the doctor and he went "uh-oh" when he felt something on my neck.

Mike Hagenston, an engineer, quickly deduced I had 30 days to live.

After the round, this gets shared with other golfers in the clubhouse. The reaction was immediate.

Bob Johnson, a safety specialist for Granite Construction,  wanted dibs on my SkyCaddie.

Kim Hagenston, an electrician equally as sensitive as his brother,  wanted by push cart.

And Marko Garcia wanted my golf clubs, although I'm not sure he knows that only two of them (driver and putter) have any value.

So, while I may die, my golf legacy will live on. This is emotionally touching.

Posted by Steve E. Swenson

Last week, my wife and I stopped in on blogger Robb Willis and his wife, Phyliss, in McKinleyville, way up north of Eureka.

His e-mail is "oldbogeydog" so of course we had to play golf.

This was after we spend a lovely evening at their wonderful ocean-view home and getting a great dinner at the Plaza Grill in Arcata.

Robb shares with me his handicap card that says he's a 12.8. Well, I'm a 4 so I feel it's only right to give him 8 strokes on his home course, Beau Pre.

I'm an idiot.

I get a 7 on the first hole, a par 4, and Robb sinks a chip for a birdie 3. He says the day feels magical.

He has four birdies. He attributes that to his "magical" day. 

He beat me by 7 strokes gross. (I didn't have a day that resembled anything like magical). Add the 12 strokes I gave him at 50 cents a stroke, I paid him $9.50, most of which I borrowed from my wife. (So glad she came along).

Speaking of the women, they began by sitting in the carts with their respective husbands. But then they abandoned us completely and chatted the whole way about girl things.  They totally missed our brilliant and not so brilliant shots.

I begged my wife to cheer for me. She clearly needs more work on that activity. At least she brought cash, so I could pay off my debts.

Robb cheered me up by buying lunch.

We had a marvelous time. Just another example of what great people bloggers are.

Posted by Steve E. Swenson

 

Sometimes in team play, you don't always have to play great to win.

Sometimes, as Paul Wetterholm and I did Thursday, you can take turns with your partner doing good and still win.

It's call "ham and egging it."

On a different level, sometimes you can shoot the worst score but still win the most money. That also happened to me Thursday.

The other team generally doesn't feel good about this. Neil Fulce and his partner, Juan, dutifully paid, but did not overly congratulate us.

Juan was particularly frustrated because he kept his string of lip outs going. That's like a sisterly kiss around the lip that doesn't go in.

But getting back to the ham and egg, there were only two holes that both Paul and I together beat our opponents.

There were 11 holes — five for me and six for Paul — where one of us either tied or won the hole. That's a lot of ham and eggs.

A very satisfying meal.

I also had the worst score, an 84 by virtue of two triple bogey 7s on par 4 holes. But with two birdies, two greenies (hitting closest to the pin on the par 3s and either winning or tying the lowest score) and eight skins, I racked up 15 skins. Paul had 8 and Neil 6.

Paul, who is in college and is really an outstanding tennis player,  was happy to win money.

He only had one dollar left after paying green fees.  You can easily lose $10 or $15 or more dollars in this game.  An ATM machine is just a few blocks away for such emergencies.

Posted by Steve E. Swenson

Today I shot 10 strokes better than when Glenn Hammett beat me.

You may be thinking, "I don't remember reading about Glenn Hammett beating you."

That's because I never wrote about it.  Glenn Hammett, who is a very nice guy and some sort of talented graphics executive around here, has no business beating me ever.

But on Tuesday, he shot an 84 in sweltering heat at Sundale and I spent much of the day in  sand bunkers and water (I think I should have been at the beach) on my way to a nifty 87.

This is the second time Glenn Hammett has beaten me.

So now two days later, still reeling from total human failure of letting Glenn Hammett beat me, I go out on the regular Thursday game with four other guys who can beat Glenn Hammett in their sleep.

This was a day of huge putts, unreal chip shots and intense competition to the last hole. It was drama and rivalry as good as anything you could watch on TV.

It was Mark Wetterholm and I against Neil Fulce and Stuart Sultze. They won the front by two holes on the strength of two birdies by each of those guys. Sultze sank a 30-footer on the 9th.  Mark and I each had a birdie or it would have been worse.

But going into 16, we were three holes ahead on the back and one up on the overall match.

Neil hits a big tree just a little ways down on the left. He has 240 yards to the green. He hits a hybrid pin high but below a sand trap on the right. Then he sinks a chip for an incredible birdie.  I answer with a 24-foot birdie putt.

Neil booms a drive on the par 5, 18th hole. He's nearly pin high but off the green in two.  I just miss a 36-foot birdie putt, but he makes his 3-foot birdie putt, tying the whole match.

This would have made me sad, but I shot a 77 — the only one to break 80 — and that was worth some money and getting that Glenn Hammett monkey off my back.

Posted by Steve E. Swenson

I am one of legions of men who are fans of Natalie Gulbis.

She is (please forgive me Almighty Spirit for the Essence of Womanhood) a babe.

She has been on the Ladies Professional Golf Association Tour for five years, where she has been dubbed the Anna Kournikova of the tour. Anna, like Natalie, has model beauty, but Anna never won a professional tennis tournament.

Yesterday in France with a birdie on the first playoff hole, Natalie won the Evian Masters Tournament, picking up a $611,470 paycheck.

Last year, she lost in another playoff at the Jamie Farr Kroger Corning Classic. She's had quite a few top-five finishes in the last couple years, proving she's no slouch, but the victory over some of the top golfers in the world is the credential she's been looking for.

Natalie was born 24 years ago in Sacramento, took up the game at age 4, broke par for the first time when he was 10, played the No. 1 position on the boys team in her high school, was an All-American at the University of Arizona, and placed fourth in last year's U.S. Open.

Her swing looks like it would hurt her back, and indeed, it did so she had some recuperation earlier this year.

Her beauty put her on sexy calendars, a show on The Golf Channel, several commercials and lots of magazine covers.

But she's always had charm beyond her looks. And she's obviously worked hard to make her golfing talent pay off.

There are other very pretty and very talented women on the tour — Paula Creamer, Michelle Wie, Morgan Pressel, Carin Koch and Christie Kerr to name a few — but Natalie is in a glamour category above the rest.

Yesterday, she was on a leader board above the rest. A little vindication for her and the men in the world who like to see the beautiful win.

Posted by Steve E. Swenson

Friends go on road trips to play golf for friends.

Neil Fulce was with his family in Shaver Lake and rather than leave him out of our regular Thursday game, we went to Brighton Crest Golf and Country Club east of Fresno and above Millerton Lake.

It's a course designed by former PGA professional and current Golf Channel announcer Johnny Miller. That means it's no easy walk in the park.

Mark Wetterholm loaded myself, Stuart Sultze and Juan (that's not his real name for reasons we can't go into here) into his car and we headed north.

We talked about lots of things, not the least of which was my first fiance and current good friend, Alison Uremovic. (photo attached) She came up because we drove right near the London Properties real estate office where she works. (If you're going to buy a house in Fresno, look her up. She's not only cute but very competent. *shameless plug for ex-girlfriend)

"Are you friends with many of your ex-girlfriends" the guys wanted to know. "Yes," I replied.

The guys inform me that this is never a topic in their households. But it is in mine, just as I've heard many stories about my wife's old boyfriends.

 One of hers is Dean Treanor, whom she met at Cal Poly where he was a baseball star, working his way up to a Canadian League before he got injured. He's current general manager of the Albuquerque Isotopes, a farm team of the Florida Marlins.

These are matter-of-fact conversations between Mary and I. She has talked to Alison on the phone, met another old girlfriend, Marie Mano (first girl I ever kissed),  and my ex-wife.

The guys made all sorts of jokes about Alison. At one point, I said I was going to call my sweetheart and they said, "You mean Alison?" 

"No, Mary."  I swear, sometimes the guys act like 7th graders.

My theory on old girlfriends is to rearrange the relationships to friendships because it's a shame to lose the closeness that you once had.  And over the years, my exes and I have had occasions to discuss hard times with people who understand and care.

After some rather awful Angus Burgers at Burger King, we arrive at the golf course which is nestled among some beautiful homes.  It was Stuart and I vs. Neil and Mark, while Juan just played for the low gross and skins part of our game.

There's a 3-tiered green on the 338-yard, 12th hole that Johnny Miller in describing the course says if you get on the wrong tier, you will 3-putt.  He was right about that.

Plus there were other putts that seemed to defy appearances. So none of us shot particularly well — Juan had an 82 for the best score.

I won 7 skins on the strength of a birdie on the longest par 4 on the course (465 yards) and a par on the next hole where my putt seemed to go wide right but blew in the hole anyway. 

The team competition was a tie because I missed a 3-foot putt on the 18th that went right instead of left. It was the third time that sort of thing happened.  The course is hilly and cost us $40 each, including the cart, which you can't play without on the up-and-down trek.

We stopped at Mimi's Cafe on the way back for an excellent dinner.  We didn't have time to drop in on Alison.

Posted by Steve E. Swenson

I hit a wedge to the green on the first hole at Rio Bravo Country Club on Saturday morning.

As it was in the air, Sheriff Donny Youngblood, who was in my foursome, said, "Be the right club."

Isn't it great to know that the man we elected sheriff was supportive and encouraging to his fellow golfers? Doesn't it make you feel good to know we have elected a man of such high honor?

Well, this is the regular weekend morning group at Rio Bravo. John Pilios, news director at KGET-TV, Channel 17, invited me to be his guest. There were 20 of us, each contributing $15 for the chance to win low score on the front and back nines, or to win "skins" -- the lowest net score on any individual hole.

Do people in that type of competition really encourage their competitors? The answer is yes. In weak moments.

The answer is also no. There is a lot of trying to get under the skin of the competitors.

For example, I screwed up both par 5s on the front nine, shooting an 8 and the first and a 7 on the second. Donny quipped, "You're doing a good job on the par 7s, Steve."

Then on the 12th hole, I asked about a lake down the fairway and whether I could use a 250-yard club. Sure, someone said unconvincingly. I needed the advice because this isn't my home course.

So I used by 230-yard club and as soon as I hit it, Donny exclaimed, "That's in the water." Well, it was just fine. But that's how men mess with each other.

Everybody but John, who was being considerate to his guest,  beat me on the front nine. John and I shot a 43.

Donny, who I have always admired for not letting women in his life dictate how often he plays (that is such a man's man, and doesn't apply to me at all), nonetheless has played a lot less since becoming sheriff.

He has been a 2- handicap, but now he's up to a 6 or 7. His campaign manager, Mike Cosenza, has a similar game. Each had a nine shooting 38. Pilios hit better drives than I have ever seen him hit. But he found creative ways to keep it out of the hole.

I joked on the 6th hole that I was just practicing for the back nine. I sunk a 6-foot, breaking birdie putt on the 18th hole for a two-under 34, the best I ever shot on that side.  That helped me take home more money than I put in.

Donny said, "Well, you called it. Good round."

I like to be encouraged by my sheriff.

Posted by Steve E. Swenson

 

 

 

There's a line in Terri Clark's country song, Girls Lie Too,  that says " We can't wait to hear about your round of golf."

Well I'm glad you feel that way, because we've decided to have me blog on my rounds of golf.

This has the potential to be boring. I hope not to make it so. A lot of stuff happens out there that has more to do with life than golf.

It's possible that after a few of these blogs, no one will play golf with me any more. But I'm going to introduce you to some real people.

They allegedly are my friends. Though my purpose out there is to win money from these people.  Betting on golf may be a crime, but if it is, I'm talking a bunch of cops and judges down with me.

I can't start with yesterday's regular Thursday game at Sundale Country Club because it would be wrong to tell you how much money I won from my friends.

Let' go back to the previous Thursday. That's when I lost. I had $20 with me and I still owed $3 at the end of it.

My partner was Mark Wetterholm. His is more of a tennis family — sons Paul and Neal were among the best high school tennis players in Kern County.

Our opponents were Stuart Sultze, a chiropractor, and Neil Fulce, an electrical contractor.  Neil crushes his drives. Went through a stress in his life some years back and to let off steam, he went to the driving range where he hit balls as hard as he could. He got pretty good at it.

We have a betting system that is very complicated, but the team part is based on the lowest score by either player per hole. They beat us by one hole on the front and coming into 16 we were even.

We are all fairly good golfers and generally the low score on a hole is par or a birdie (one under par).  So on a par 4 like 16, somebody will probably have a 4 or a 3.

There's a long story here, but I had a 10 on that hole. Two balls in the water, a double hit  on a chip shot (someone talked in my backswing). My partner, Mark,  had to hit around a tree. Stuart had the best score on the hole, a bogie (5).

We couldn't recover. I gave them every penny I had. It was sad.

Until yesterday when on the first hole, Mark put his hands on my shoulder and prayed for me to do better.

The microcosm of the game was on the 17th where my ball hit the green but scooted over some grassy knolls.  I pictured a soft, high wedge, but I skulled it and the ball zipped with breakneck speed toward trouble.

But it hit the pin dead on, killing most of its momentum, and rolled 15 feet away. I one putted for a par. The other team had bogies.  Sultze, normally quiet and even tempered, in a loud voice said, "That's just not right. That's just not right."

Maybe, but it helped me win $33.

If you think Mark's prayers can help your game, tough beans. I have exclusive rights to his intercession with the golf gods.

Posted by Steve E. Swenson

P.S. I didn't want to begin with my win, but I don't mind ending with it.