I tried to squeeze the toothpaste tube with my left hand this morning, and I winced from the pain in my wrist and thumb. So I figured golf was out. But after learning that I had been rejected by a bankruptcy attorney (long story, but if Samuel Beckett were still alive, he'd envy the utter absurdity of my life), I decided to attempt to play The Lakes, since, random chance being what it is, I was actually likely to make a hole in one (the yin to the rest of my life's yang).
Other than my now-traditional first-shot 20-yard dub (a warm-up process known in certain circles as a mulligan; in other circles as cheating), I struck the ball very well, with almost all of my iron shots landing on the greens, then backing up (since I'm still playing with the Pro V1s I was given in the Viking Classic Pro-Am, I may have to concede that real golf balls do things that shitty balls do not: namely, compress, stop and spin). Unfortunately, I missed three-foot par putts on both two and three, and I continued to show that my game on the greens is completely inconsistent.
Hank Haney says that 50 percent of all practice should be on the short game, and 50 percent of that should be putting. I need to gain confidence with the flat stick.
On the other hand, I cannot believe how well I'm hitting the Nike Victory Red #3 Hybrid. I thought I was playing it safe by hitting it 190 or so into a brisk wind on the last hole, but I arrived at my ball perplexed, since the hole is 261 yards, and I was no more than 30 yards from the center of the green (with no cart-path bounces possible, since the course doesn't have carts. I simply tagged it).
Of course, I then pulled out my 60 degree wedge, got far too cute (instead of aiming for the wide-open middle of the green), tried to delicately carry the bunker and snuggle up to the pin, and instead landed before the bunker, a true finesse shot that went 10 yards. Then I delicately deposited my next shot into the bunker. Then blasted out across the green. The good news is that I am now 9 for 9 getting out of traps with my 60 degree wedge. The bad news is that having to make a nice eight-footer for a double-bogey on one of the easiest birdie holes on the planet is not exactly the confidence boost I was hoping to find today.
Perhaps some putting practice tomorrow will do the trick.