I'm Taking That One Home With Me!

My golf game has been up and down recently.  The grass is growing again and because I'm hitting off almost fluffy green stuff rather than dry, dormant brown stuff I've finally stopped skulling my chips and my trusty flop shot has returned but, of course, there are other issues.  Golf is sort of like marriage -- while I tweak it over here, something else tends to pop out over there and at times I feel trapped in an endless, futile search for the perfect round that doesn't exist.  I probably need some therapy around this issue because my rational self knows golf doesn't work that way and it's just not going to happen.

Sunday at Pinehurst Belonged to Michelle Wie

Michelle Wie teeing off Sunday at the US Women's Open.  Photo credit: USGA

The 69th playing of the US Women's Open has taken its place in golfing history.  It's an Open that belongs now to twenty-four year old Michelle Wie, once a teen phenom who labored at her craft for a full decade in order to achieve the Sunday afternoon pinnacle victory.  It was a well-played and truly-earned win.

Moving Day at the US Women's Open

Saturday at the US Women's Open, the galleries are swelling
Photo credit: USGA

I was sitting in the stands watching Stephanie Meadow and Karrie Webb warm up on the range this morning.  Behind me, a thirty-something thoughtful and patient daddy was identifying golfers and explaining the nuances of pro golf tournaments to his endlessly curious 10-year old daughter --

. . . that's Catriona Matthew, she's a mommy too and has little girls your age . . . and that's Michelle Wie, she might win the Open tomorrow (it was actually Azahara Munoz), and that's Karrie Webb, she's very, very famous because she's won so many golf tournaments, and that one in the pink shirt with the ruffles on her skort, that's Stephanie Meadow -- she's a college student . . .

US Women's Open: Remembering The Babe

Babe Didrikson Zaharias, 1911-1956

In 1954 the United States was in the grip of the Cold War and being held in thrall by Joe McCarthy's Red Scare, and it seemed like only Edward R Murrow and Fred Friendly were going to take exception to McCarthy's madness.  Love was in the air and so was radioactivity: Monroe married Dimaggio and the first hydrogen weapon exploded over the Bikini Atoll.  The nation was poised on the brink of a cultural revolution, pondering but not yet able to envision the post-Brown v Board of Education social landscape.  Texas Instruments launched the transistor radio and Burger King launched its proletarian hamburger challenge.  The first issue of Sports Illustrated appeared on newsstands.

This was the year Babe Zaharias won the US Women's Open for the third and final time, defeating Betty Hicks (for the second time) at the Salem Country Club in Peabody, Massachusetts.  It was her 48th and final victory on the links.

Confessions of a Golf Addict

So I need to back up before I can go forward with this confession . . . to that pesky shoulder injury -- the one that involved some calcification, perhaps a tear in my rotator cuff, and some issue with my bicep tendon that was causing chronic tendonitis -- that was interfering with my swing.

After spending months swinging my sticks and suffering, and then more months with the physical therapist and still suffering with and without swinging, I gave in and scheduled the surgery I'd been trying to avoid because everybody (translate: everybody with whom I golf regularly who knew at least one other golfer who'd had shoulder surgery) kept telling me I'd be out of golf for at least three and probably six months, and six months without golf felt like an impossibly long time to me.