Baby Did Yet Another Bad, Bad Thing

So there I was at the local golf retailer, when what to my wondering eyes should appear but a Ben Hogan hybrid 3-iron that the simulator said I hit 250. A man with available credit and a handicap in the high 20s does not look gift equines in the mouth. No interest until May, so, WTF? I bought it.

I played this past Monday. My employer gave me that day off, and not the New Year's Eve Friday that, ummmm, everyone else got. It was okay, though. I had weather in the 50s and a course entirely to myself. The problem was that I was coming off a nasty head cold, and I should not have been out of bed. Oh well- I played until I couldn't take it anymore, which was 7 holes. On a $12 nine-holer, I didn't care.

So the first few holes were, well, really bad. A 5-iron hit off the heel, a push sliced 4-wood, a goodly number of chili-dipped approach shots. I didn't warm up until the fifth, a 145 yard par three. On a warmer day, I would have used an 8-iron, but Monday I went with a 7.

Pin high, checked up, about 18 feet from the hole. None too shabby. Missed the birdie, two putt par.

The sixth is a short (459 yard) par five. The fround was soft, and I wasn't hitting the driver particularly well, so I went with my beloved Cleveland 3-wood. About 200, just in the rough. Second shot: a 5-iron that didn't carry very far, and then took a weird kick too boot, leaving me about 120. It was a weird downhill lie in thick rough- I took out my 9-iron.

And chunked it. It rolled down the hill about 70 yards into a fairway cut collection area. There's a little creek and then a severely sloped green. I took out my lob wedge, took a couple of three-quarter practice swings until I felt it was right. Then I knocked it to eight feet. I had a tricky downhill putt that I could only barely touch. I left it about two rolls short- which was okay by me, since the slope picks up pace on the other side of the hole. I could have lost it completely.

I skipped seven and eight, and walked directly over to the ninth, which is a short par three. It looked to be about 125, which would ordinarily be a PW, but I played my nine accounting for the cooler air. I caught it thin and yanked it. I teed up another. I made solid contact on the sweet spot, but it flew the back. Nine was too much. Trust my yardage.

I looked down at the tee- completely untouched, with a clean, thin divot about an inch in front, just like they say you ought to.

I teed up another, and used my wedge. It took off high and straight at the pin. It came down about eight feet above the pin, and then it spun back to pin high, coming to rest about four feet left of the hole. I had never managed to spin a shot like that- I'm still amazed. I felt like a tour pro. We mere mortals can't spin shots like that- we shoot low and run up to the hole. This was something else.

Then I missed the putt. Augh. Can't get ahead, can I?