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Stemming from a string of posts I started on the GolfWRX forums, I've decided to give my ramblings a home of their own. Fueled by a desire to keep this sport affordable, follow me as I discuss anything and everything related to the game. Feel free to comment, ask questions, and suggest future topics. In the future, I hope to post not just text, but pictures and videos as well.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

The Range


If you live anywhere north of Atlanta then you’ve probably been so frustrated by the winter weather that you might have seriously considered grabbing a hair dryer, your longest extension cords, and melting just enough snow off your local practice green to get in some putting practice. With warmer weather on the way, today was a great day to squeeze in 9 after work, or if you’re like me, hit some balls because you don’t want to waste 13 precious dollars knocking the rust off on the course.

Five dollars for a half-bucket, eight for a full. Always buy the full. Once you have some semblance of a repeatable swing, take the extra token and throw it in your bag. Make that half-bucket count and focus on your practice.

One half bucket of dirty, chewed up yellow range balls. At least two won’t be hittable so I sort those out immediately. If you’re lucky you might find a stray Pro V1 that found it’s way onto the range. Into the bag it goes. After hauling the balls back to my car I grab my clubs and sit on my trunk/locker room bench to put my shoes on. Now for the most important part of the day, locating grass on the range. Hundreds of individual divots fill the hitting area. No attempt at a divot pattern to minimize destruction of the practice area. No grass seed mixed with sand to fill in your divots. The pasture. I’ve learned to love it.

Practice swings have been made, the grinding has commenced, and I’m down to my last few balls. “Ok 2 more drivers, a few 6 irons, and then 9 irons to finish grooving this shoulder turn.” I scan the area in front of me to see if I can grab a few more balls topped by the guy who left 10 minutes ago. Suddenly, the range picker begins making it’s way towards me, and swallows all of those topped balls like a dropped quarter falling down a storm drain. Making sure to not miss a single ball, he finally comes to a stop in front of me.

“Hey you’re hitting ‘em well today, why don’t ya fill er up again?”

“Really?!”

“Yup.”

I walked over to the cart, filled my bucket up until the balls spilled over the lip, and walked back to my spot on the range.

Today was a good day.

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