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A Good Walk Spoiled
Jul. 14th, 2005 11:54 pmWednesday, my team left the office early for a team building event. Our division allows teams to do this every once in a blue moon, and since Lisa is leaving, she deemed that we could actually close down a phone que (which is something I don't have the power to do) and that we could take a half day off.
Last week we started to try to figure out what we could do as a team, together. Other teams had gone to the movies and gone bowling, but for some reason Lisa and John go a wild hair and started pointing us toward golf. Now this isn't miniature golf, but real, 18-holes, tees and greens full on golf. I wondered if this was a good plan since only two of us on the team actually played golf, and of course, it's July in Houston.
Still, planning went right ahead, and we talked about how to secure clubs for those of us who didn't play, and to find a course that wouldn't cost us and arm and a leg in green fees. We all talked about out experience, or lack there of. I personally have played a little bit of the game, more than 20 years ago when I took lessons as a teen. When we finished we played at 3-Par course that is now the site of a HEB supermarket. I have never played 18 holes.
So yesterday came, and since we were leaving early, everyone brought something for lunch, and ate at there desk, and we were all watching the weather, as Houston has broken it's dry spell and gone back to the usual pattern of having summer thundershowers. Well, just as we were ready to take off for the course, on Houston's near southeast side, it started to rain cats and dogs. Just getting through the streets was a dangerous affair as the streets were filling with water.
Just a side note, this happens all the time in Houston. Even minor storms can end up flooding some city streets and freeways, and Wednesdays, and even todays storms were putting Houston's overworked storm drains to the test. To get to our original golf destination, I had to dodge several cars that tried to enter water that they shouldn't have. Thank goodness for my SUV. In Houston, with the water and the bone-jarringly bad streets, having the extra car may be bad for your pocketbook, but it will last longer. Tonight as I drove home, many neighborhoods hit by today's storms were without electricity, and it was still raining. if we do get much of the rain from Hurricane Emily, due next week, it's likely there will be some major flooding.
After taking an hour to get to a destination usually 20 minutes away, I found that I was the first one there. This was after toting the borrowed set of golf clubs from the office to my car, and changing from slacks into a pair of shorts in the parking garage. At the clubhouse of the Wortham Park Golf Course I asked the guy at the desk if they felt it would dry out enough to play that day, and he responded, no.
When the rest of the team got to the site (Monica, the incessant whiner didn't come, thankfully), Lisa's husband made some calls and found that another course, Glenbrook, just a few miles down the freeway was relatively unscathed by the storms and was letting people tee off, so we all agreed to move the party. Houston storms have a habit of being rather hit-or-miss affairs.
Once we got to Glenbrook, we got settled in our carts and off we went. We broke up into a couple of different groups to keep things moving, and made the decision to play a scramble game, or "best ball". Everyone tees off, and then the best ball is used for everyone else to make the next shot, and so on until you finish the hole. I was in a cart with Zack and having fun driving the cart around all day.
The question was, how big of a fool would I make of myself trying to hit the ball? I managed to pull out an enormous driver out of the bag of clubs that I had borrowed and teed up my ball at the first hole and tried to remember all of those things they tell you about your feet, your eyes, your arms and your follow-through. So i letter rip, and managed to hit it straight, about 150 yards. It really wasn't that bad of a job.
Zack, who had never played before had a lot of trouble, and was getting frustrated with morgan trying to tell him all of these tricks and tips. Morgan was the most experienced of our foursome, always hitting for the longest distances, so more often than not, we ended up using his ball for our next shots. Being the manager that I am, I worked on balancing the messages that Morgan gave Zack with reenforcement and balance in the message he was getting. The factor was, we were there to have fun, and to get away from the office, not to frustrate ourselves further, do that's why I could enjoy the day, even though I lost seven or eight balls trying to drive across the bayou that bisects many of the fairways on the course.
My game seemed to really lose it anytime I needed to get loft on a shot, and I never seemed to have the right touch on the greens. It's not the same as playing putt putt. I also could have used a pair of spikes, as I managed to take a tumble into the mud trying to pitch a ball out of the bank of the bayou. Luckily it was on the ninth hole, so i could clean up in the clubhouse before we went on to the back nine.
The heat was coming back, and the sauna-like weather was taking it's toll on the back nine as my strength was being sapped, and my drives were getting worse and worse. Zack's got better as he went along, which was good. On 17 I wrenched my back in my swing off the tee, and I'm still feeling it today. The sun went down on us, and the 18th was played in practical darkness, with just the moon and the streetlights from the nearby houses helping us find the hole, but not always our balls. The clubhouse was closed and the staff waiting to take our carts as we finished. they had been pulling the flags on the holes behind us.
I was terribly tired, realizing that even with the carts, I had really done a lot of movement and was probably a bit dehydrated. If I were to take up this sport, I would definitely need to work on my endurance and my arm strength, and would probably need to learn how to swing again since it still felt unnatural to me. Then again, it's damned expensive. Even with the the borrowed clubs, and the cheapest balls I could find at target, and playing at a city course, not a private one, I still paid $35 for the opportunity to drive little white balls into the bayou.
hans wants me to take this sport up, since he wants a playing partner. We'll have to see about that. The exercise is good, but the expenditure, not so much, and after watching Morgan and John get more and more frustrated with their game, I don't know if anyone truly enjoys the game.
Still, in the words of Mark Twain, "Golf is a good walk, spoiled."
Last week we started to try to figure out what we could do as a team, together. Other teams had gone to the movies and gone bowling, but for some reason Lisa and John go a wild hair and started pointing us toward golf. Now this isn't miniature golf, but real, 18-holes, tees and greens full on golf. I wondered if this was a good plan since only two of us on the team actually played golf, and of course, it's July in Houston.
Still, planning went right ahead, and we talked about how to secure clubs for those of us who didn't play, and to find a course that wouldn't cost us and arm and a leg in green fees. We all talked about out experience, or lack there of. I personally have played a little bit of the game, more than 20 years ago when I took lessons as a teen. When we finished we played at 3-Par course that is now the site of a HEB supermarket. I have never played 18 holes.
So yesterday came, and since we were leaving early, everyone brought something for lunch, and ate at there desk, and we were all watching the weather, as Houston has broken it's dry spell and gone back to the usual pattern of having summer thundershowers. Well, just as we were ready to take off for the course, on Houston's near southeast side, it started to rain cats and dogs. Just getting through the streets was a dangerous affair as the streets were filling with water.
Just a side note, this happens all the time in Houston. Even minor storms can end up flooding some city streets and freeways, and Wednesdays, and even todays storms were putting Houston's overworked storm drains to the test. To get to our original golf destination, I had to dodge several cars that tried to enter water that they shouldn't have. Thank goodness for my SUV. In Houston, with the water and the bone-jarringly bad streets, having the extra car may be bad for your pocketbook, but it will last longer. Tonight as I drove home, many neighborhoods hit by today's storms were without electricity, and it was still raining. if we do get much of the rain from Hurricane Emily, due next week, it's likely there will be some major flooding.
After taking an hour to get to a destination usually 20 minutes away, I found that I was the first one there. This was after toting the borrowed set of golf clubs from the office to my car, and changing from slacks into a pair of shorts in the parking garage. At the clubhouse of the Wortham Park Golf Course I asked the guy at the desk if they felt it would dry out enough to play that day, and he responded, no.
When the rest of the team got to the site (Monica, the incessant whiner didn't come, thankfully), Lisa's husband made some calls and found that another course, Glenbrook, just a few miles down the freeway was relatively unscathed by the storms and was letting people tee off, so we all agreed to move the party. Houston storms have a habit of being rather hit-or-miss affairs.
Once we got to Glenbrook, we got settled in our carts and off we went. We broke up into a couple of different groups to keep things moving, and made the decision to play a scramble game, or "best ball". Everyone tees off, and then the best ball is used for everyone else to make the next shot, and so on until you finish the hole. I was in a cart with Zack and having fun driving the cart around all day.
The question was, how big of a fool would I make of myself trying to hit the ball? I managed to pull out an enormous driver out of the bag of clubs that I had borrowed and teed up my ball at the first hole and tried to remember all of those things they tell you about your feet, your eyes, your arms and your follow-through. So i letter rip, and managed to hit it straight, about 150 yards. It really wasn't that bad of a job.
Zack, who had never played before had a lot of trouble, and was getting frustrated with morgan trying to tell him all of these tricks and tips. Morgan was the most experienced of our foursome, always hitting for the longest distances, so more often than not, we ended up using his ball for our next shots. Being the manager that I am, I worked on balancing the messages that Morgan gave Zack with reenforcement and balance in the message he was getting. The factor was, we were there to have fun, and to get away from the office, not to frustrate ourselves further, do that's why I could enjoy the day, even though I lost seven or eight balls trying to drive across the bayou that bisects many of the fairways on the course.
My game seemed to really lose it anytime I needed to get loft on a shot, and I never seemed to have the right touch on the greens. It's not the same as playing putt putt. I also could have used a pair of spikes, as I managed to take a tumble into the mud trying to pitch a ball out of the bank of the bayou. Luckily it was on the ninth hole, so i could clean up in the clubhouse before we went on to the back nine.
The heat was coming back, and the sauna-like weather was taking it's toll on the back nine as my strength was being sapped, and my drives were getting worse and worse. Zack's got better as he went along, which was good. On 17 I wrenched my back in my swing off the tee, and I'm still feeling it today. The sun went down on us, and the 18th was played in practical darkness, with just the moon and the streetlights from the nearby houses helping us find the hole, but not always our balls. The clubhouse was closed and the staff waiting to take our carts as we finished. they had been pulling the flags on the holes behind us.
I was terribly tired, realizing that even with the carts, I had really done a lot of movement and was probably a bit dehydrated. If I were to take up this sport, I would definitely need to work on my endurance and my arm strength, and would probably need to learn how to swing again since it still felt unnatural to me. Then again, it's damned expensive. Even with the the borrowed clubs, and the cheapest balls I could find at target, and playing at a city course, not a private one, I still paid $35 for the opportunity to drive little white balls into the bayou.
hans wants me to take this sport up, since he wants a playing partner. We'll have to see about that. The exercise is good, but the expenditure, not so much, and after watching Morgan and John get more and more frustrated with their game, I don't know if anyone truly enjoys the game.
Still, in the words of Mark Twain, "Golf is a good walk, spoiled."
