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Archive for the ‘heart’ Category

This year’s Masters lived up to promise, yet with different contenders than predicted. Bubba Watson and Louis Oosthuizen¬†were on no one’s radar, and I mean no one’s. My ears picked up not one Golf Channel pundit uttering either name. Bubba Watson! Are you kidding me? I cringe every time I see him swing. I really do. The swing looks like a cat getting a bath. The guy has more club head rotation than a boomerang. He falls backwards as his front foot slips out to the right. He passes parallel almost as much as John Daly, but without the lovely rhythm and form of JD. The sound of his shots, at least from my limited auditory perspective on TV, is more a clunk or a clank than a click. And Bubba, when in contention, has more nervous ticks than a kipper has bones as he prances, twitching down the fairway. But damn, if Bubba Watson didn’t win the 76th Masters.

The man can curve a golf ball, can’t he. From a driver to a wedge, he can hook or slice, fade or draw, a ball at will. The wedge is the most remarkable. Nobody curves and carves a wedge like Bubba. You really shouldn’t be able to hook a wedge, but Bubba can. You really shouldn’t be able to slice a 6-iron 40 yards around a tree to the green, but Bubba can. You really shouldn’t be able to hit a 9-iron under a tree (more…)

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Golf in the Kingdom, the movie, goes deep into the heart and soul of the game. It’s the first golf movie I’ve ever seen where the main characters actually know how to swing a golf club. And nobody talks in cliches. There’s a realness to the film that stopped me cold and made me think even as I was watching, although I really didn’t want to think given the beauty of the landscape and the moody light of a Scottish links filmed, actually, at Bandon Dunes on the Oregon coast. The light and the landscape drew me into the film, while the dialogue held me spellbound. The game of golf was the keystone, of course, but life was the sun that kept it all energized. There ¬†are few mulligans in life, where all strokes, even ones from a wayward waggle, need to be counted and accounted for. The skeptics derisively say, “Golf: it’s not even a sport.” And I reply, “That’s right: It’s a game, the greatest game ever played.”

It’s a game, like life is a game, unfair, cruel at times–it knocks you down, (more…)

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