Each week during the 2012-13 season a Maryland student-athlete, who has shown excellence on and off the playing field, will be selected as the Solomon Eye Associates Terp of the Week. This week’s Solomon Eye Associates Terp of the Week is Sean Bosdosh from the men’s golf team. Bosdosh shot a 4-under 212 at the 54-hole event to capture the first individual title by a Terp since October of 2010.
3 Holes Left , Tiger is in deep trouble on 16 and Bo VanPelt attempts to hit a 240 yard 6 iron. What was he thinking. Tiger is the first 3 time winner this, has gained the lead in the Fed Ex cup race. But by his own standards has failed in the only victories that matter–the Majors. Next up the Open Championship.
Champions are never afraid to lay matches on the line. Recently, LeBron has been criticized for backing off game winning shots. Yesterday Tiger put the entire tournament on the line with a near impossible flop shot. Short he remains in the thick rough—long—his ball goes into the drink. but his ball went in!!!
3 years ago my golf pro and good friend, Pat Coyner spoke of the wonders of his newest swing guru—Sean Foley. When Tiger and Hank Haney split, the golf world was shocked that Le Tigre hired Sean Foley. Nobody is laughing any more. Tiger is hitting greens in regulation at an amazing clip. But he is not even Foley’s hottest student. that honor belongs to Hunter Mahan, closely followed by Justin Rose!! All three could land in the top 10 this week.
My pick has to be the #1 golfer in the world, Rory McElroy. He thoroughly dominated last year’s tournament until the collapse on #10 on the final day. That won’t happen again.Look for Rory and Hunter Mahan as the final twosome on Sunday.
At 6 PM as I was getting ready to leave to go to eat Sunday night at Costas, I wanted to watch the last hole and watch Kyle Stanley get his first win. sneaker in second place conceded that his 3 shot lead was too much for Stanley to lose. Wrong!!! Unbelievable, I guess if Rory can waste away a huge lead, anyone can. At one point Stanley was up by 7. Apparently Greg Norman contacted him today.
The Maryland women’s golf team placed four golfers in the top 25 led by senior Jessica Hollandsworthto finish the first round of the UNCG/Starmount Fall Classic at Starmount Country Club in first place with a 303. Hollandsworth carded a 2-over 74 to finish in a tie for fifth with Georgia State’s Charlotte Guilleux.
Junior Christine Shimel is in tie for seventh after firing a 3-over 75. Shimel is followed closely by freshman Juliet Vongphoumy. Vongphoumy, whose 75.2 scoring average is the lowest on the team, carded a 4-over 76 to finish tied for 10th. Freshman Emily Gimpel rounded out the Terps top-25 performers. Gimpel shot a 6-over 78 to tie for 25th.
I just spent 3 days in Williamsburg at the Kingsmill resort. Before I get into the 3 golf courses I played, the staff and accommodations were superb and at a very reasonable cost. The swimming pool. restaurants and golf courses were all within walking distance.
River Course—extremely well manicured course—the rough is referred to as sticky wicky by the locals–in other words stay in the fairway. That day my superfast Taylormade driver treated me well, my left handed putts were falling and overall it was a good round on a great course.
Plantation Course–similar to the River course but with more narrow fairways. 1 very reachable par 5. Unfortunately the greens were in horrible shape and slick as glass. The course was about to be shut down to try to staighten out the greens.
Gold Course at the Golden Horseshoe–a magnificent layout in the heart of Williamsburg proper. Bombs are blasting from reenactment activities while you play. But the course was in nearly perfect condition. Again the fairways are wide for the most part but the rough is brutal.
All in all a great and very reasonable quick getaway.
Nobody in golf seems to like Tiger’s ex-caddty Steve Williams from New Zealand. However Tiger won 63 tournaments with Stevie carrying his bag. More important Stevie stood behind Tiger and had his back for years. Bad move–short memory!!!
Senior Jessica Hollandsworth qualified for her first-ever U.S. Women’s Amateur Championship after shooting an even-par 71 at the USGA sectional qualifier hosted by the Sapona Country Club on Thursday, July 7.Hollandsworth shot a 1-over 36 on the front nine and finished with a 1-under 35 to complete the 6,323-yard course. Hollandsworth, a three-time All-ACC selection, tied for the lead with four other golfers, and will join five golfers from the sectional who compete for the championship at the Rhode Island Country Club in Barrington, R.I., on August 8-From umterps.com
“Unfortunately, I’ve been advised that I should not play in the British Open,” Woods said. “As I stated at the AT&T National, I am only going to come back when I’m 100 percent ready. I do not want to risk further injury. That’s different for me, but I’m being smarter this time. “I’m very disappointed and want to express my regrets to the British Open fans.” It’s almost becoming a non story.
On the par-3, 175-yard fourteenth hole at Riviera, I hit my tee shot a mere ninety yards and a physics-defying thirty degrees to the right—almost sideways. It’s a miracle I got my right leg out of the way, or I could have shattered it with the club. As I walked to the ball, I remarked to my friend that after seventeen years of playing this course I’d never seen someone hit a ball anywhere near where mine ended up. He had never seen it, either. “What’s more,” I said, “I couldn’t care less.” My friend was taken aback. But I meant it. I didn’t care, and I didn’t particularly care about the next shot, either. I felt liberated, not unlike the way I felt when my wife left me, except this time I didn’t take up skipping.
Finally, after years of pain and struggle, I had accepted the fact that I would never be a good golfer. No matter how many hours I practiced, no matter how many instructors I saw, how many books and magazines I read, or how many teaching aids I tried. Then it hit me. According to Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s book “On Death and Dying,” Acceptance was the final stage of grief that terminal patients experience before dying, the others being Anger, Denial, Bargaining, and Depression. I was in the final stage! When I started thinking about it, I realized that I’d gone through every one of those stages, but not as a terminal patient . . . as a golfer.
My first stage: Anger. There was a time when I was always angry on the course. Driving fast in the cart. Throwing clubs. Constantly berating myself. “You stink, four-eyes! You stink at everything. You can’t even open a bottle of wine! You can’t swipe a credit card at the drugstore! You can’t swipe. And you’ve never even been to the Guggenheim. The Guggenheim! And call your parents, you selfish bastard!” Then I’d walk off the course and vow never to play again, only to return the following week for more of the same. I hardly ever finished a round. Once, I bought a brand-new set of clubs, and then, after a particularly terrible day, I gave them to the caddy at the sixteenth hole and left.
The Anger phase lasted for years, and then I entered the next phase, Denial. “All I need are some lessons,” I told myself. “Why should everyone else be able to do it and not me? Why are they good? I’m coördinated. I have a jump shot! I can go to my left. Obviously I have it in me. I have it in me! Next year, I’ll go to Orlando and spend a week taking lessons with Leadbetter. I don’t care what it costs. How can you spend a week with Leadbetter and not get better? It’s impossible.” But I did, and I didn’t.
The third stage was Bargaining, and I did my share of that. “Please, God. All I want to do is hit the ball. What is it You want? Good deeds? Give me a swing and I’ll give You good deeds up the wazoo. I’ll help sick kids, the homeless . . . well, sick kids. I’ll stop all the mocking. I’ll give up cookies, coffee, coffee cake, cashmere. I’ll go to temple. Is that what You want? Temple? Done! Can I bring my BlackBerry? O.K., no BlackBerry, I promise! Just let me hit the ball! What do You care?” He didn’t. What kind of God won’t let me hit the ball? What did I ever do to Him? He took my hair, I didn’t complain. I joked about it! I was a model bald man. Was it the TV show? Did He not like the show? Too mean? I’ll make it nicer! I can be nice. “Tell You what—I’ll visit my parents in Florida three times next year. That’s right, You heard me. Three times! . . . Did I say three? Three’s crazy. No one can survive three trips down there. It’s suicide. Let’s make it two. What do You say? Two trips to Florida! I’m only human!” And, by the way, I wasn’t even asking to hit every shot. Or even every other shot. Or even every third shot. I said, “God, let me hit the ball every fourth shot and I’ll be happy.” Every fourth shot! But He didn’t. He wouldn’t. He won’t.
Then I drifted into the next stage, Depression. I was never going to be good. Never. Think what I could’ve done with all that time. Learned French. Piano. I’d be playing Chopin now if it weren’t for golf. Playing Chopin for Julie Delpy. But instead I wasted my life on this game. It looked so easy. The ball just sits there. Any idiot could do it. But every instinct I had was wrong. You’re supposed to hit the ball down to make it go up. That’s absurd. I want to hit it up to make it go up. When I try to hit down, it’s like I’m splitting a log with an axe. All I do is chop up the course. And then there’s this one: the easier you swing, the farther the ball goes. How can that be? So you hit down to make it go up and swing easy to make it go far?
And now I find myself in the final stage, Acceptance. I will never be good. There, I said it. I like saying it. I’ll say it again: I’ll never be good. It’s just not something I’m suited for. That’s O.K. I’m good at other things. What those are I have no idea. But I’m sure there are some. Flossing and dishwashing come to mind. Getting people I can’t stand to like me is another. But golf ? No. I will never stand over the ball without considering the disaster about to befall me. I’ll never line up a putt and think I’ll make it. Never face a chip without fearing the decel. And yet I’ll continue to play, because I do hit some good shots, especially when I’m on the driving range. I actually hit some great range shots. What the hell is that? I’ve had swing compliments on the range. “I love your tempo,” a woman once said to me. That’s right—I have good tempo. I’ve had many other range compliments that I won’t bore you with, but, believe me, I’m an eight or a nine on the range. So it’s clearly psychological. I wonder . . . what if I blindfolded myself ? Is it possible?! Have I stumbled upon the Secret? It makes sense. The reason I can’t hit the ball is that I can see it! Tomorrow I’m going to play blindfolded, and if that doesn’t work then I’ll definitely and unequivocally accept Acceptance. I just want to try this blindfold idea. I have a very good feeling about it. Very good. ♦