Phoenix got its last blast of Old Man Winter (hopefully) this weekend. It was cold (in the 50s and low 60s), rainy and overcast all weekend. So there was no hiking or golf this weekend. SO and I went shopping and in exchange for not whining and whimpering too much at Macy's, DSW and some other clothing stores, I got to spend an hour at the PGA Superstore in Chandler. The new Callaway RAZR Hawk Driver was released this week and I wanted to try it out. I have about $600 of PGA Superstore gift cards burning a hole in my pocket and I was a buyer today.
I took my 2008 TaylorMade Burner Driver into the store. One of the clerks marks your club with a piece of tape to indicate that it is your club and makes you leave the headcover at the front desk. Normally, this would not be a big deal, but the head cover was my new Jan Craig head cover so I was not thrilled (but I was too lazy to walk the 25 yards back to my car so I left it upfront).
The sales people at the PGA Superstore leave something to be desired. I went up to the hitting area and after waiting about a minute I interrupted a discussion between two of the sales people to see if I could get any help. One guy pointed me in the direction of the RAZR demo clubs and sent me to station 2. I hit balls for about 45 minutes in the simulator and not one sales person talked with me. I hit a number of drives with my TaylorMade Driver to determine my baseline. I hit my driver between 230 and 250 yards according to the simulator. I hit the Callaway RAZR Hawk, the Ping G15 and the TaylorMade R9 and R11 drivers. I hit all of them between 230 and 250 yards. It is possible that my "misses" were going further and straigher, but I did not notice a significant difference. By this time I am dripping with sweat and still no one has said a peep to me.
Two lessons I learned at the store (and that I am happy to impart to my followers): First, incentivizing sales people by paying commissions makes them hungrier. I was salivating to buy a new $400+ driver and no sales clerk gave me the time of day. There is a fine line between being a good salesperson and an over-aggressive boor, but I would have loved to have someone come over and talk with me about the different clubs and show me how to adjust the weights, etc. Of course, I could have tracked down a sales clerk, but why?
Second and more importantly, the old adage that "it is not the tools, but the carpenter that wields them" remains true. The difference in distance between my "ancient" 2008 TaylorMade Burner and the new 2011 drivers was negligible. The RAZR was developed in partnership with Lamborghini and it advertises that the clubface is made of forged composite and is lighter and stronger than titanium, the aerodynamic shape reduces drag by 43-percent over the FT-9 driver for more distance and the hyperbolic face technology precisely controls the face thickness, resulting in consistently higher ball speeds across the entire face. I would have gladly paid $400+ for an additional 10 yards off the tee and a little bit more accuracy, but I was not feeling it.
Showing posts with label Jan Craig Headcovers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jan Craig Headcovers. Show all posts
Monday, February 21, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Valentine's Weekend
Since Valentine's Day is Monday, the big question this week is whether you can celebrate Valentine's Day on Saturday or Sunday when you can spend more time with your sweetheart or you should celebrate on Monday, which is the date that Hallmark chose for Valentine's Day. The restaurant owners (not the employees) love a Monday Valentine's Day because a lot of restaurants are normally closed on Monday or business is slow. Although I hate to generalize (and my followers know how politically correct I am), the Venetians (not Venice, Italy) are firm that Valentine's Day must be celebrated on February 14. The Martians, who are generally more flexible and right brain-oriented, believe that Valentine's Day can be celebrated anytime in the vicinity of February 14. One Curmudgeon Martian combines his Venetian's birthday and Valentine's Day (it is a wonder he is still married!). Because I always like to impart some pearl of wisdom to my followers, February 14 is also statehood day in Arizona. Arizona was admitted into the Union on February 14, 1912.
SO's plan was to kill me before Valentine's Day because I was being very difficult about a Valentine's Day gift (it looks like I am getting underwear again!). We hiked Camelback Mountain on the Cholla Trail. Cholla Trail is the less-crowded, "easier" route up the mountain. It is 3.5 miles roundtrip. The last half mile or so requires scrambling along the ridgeline. There were plenty of places where a misstep or a slight push in the back would send you tumbling off the side of the mountain. I got dissed by some hikers for climbing in my Skechers and not wearing my hiking boots. I hate to admit it, but they were right. The view from the top of Camelback Mountain is beautiful and well-worth the hike. After hiking, we went to the farmer's market at Vincent's Restaurant, in the heart of the city, for breakfast.
Sunday was gorgeous and I was stoked to play golf. I just got my retro Jan Craig headcovers and I was looking sharp and feeling good. I parred the first hole at the Wigwam Gold Course and it was all downhill from there. I stunk up the joint! I hit some shots that came off the clubhead so strangely I have no idea what I did. I was hitting the ball on the toe and the heel, everywhere except in the middle of the clubface. I was nothing if not (in)consistent. I shot a 48 on the front 9 and a 48 on the back 9 for a 96. The highlight of my round was the 400 yard, par-4 18th hole. This is a good finishing hole with a canal that runs just left of the green. The Sunday pin position was on the front left side of the green so if you miss the shot just a little left of the green, the ball rolls off the edge of the green into the canal. Of course, I bail out to the right. My ball lands next to the cart path and right of the greenside bunker with the green sloping away from me and toward the canal. I decide to hit a flop shot over the bunker that lands softly on the green about 10 feet from the hole and I make my only putt of the day for a par.
While I was stinking up the course, the Gardener was bombing his driver and lasering his irons. He had three gimme birdies and hit another shot about 3 feet above the flagstick and missed a tricky downhill sliding putt for a fourth birdie. He had a 38 on the front 9, but limped home with double-bogeys on the last two holes for a 44 on the back and an excellent round of 82 for the day. It was the best I have seen him hit the ball! Chad Feldheimer was making pars with a few birdies and bogeys sprinkled in. He made the turn at 37 and it looked like this might be the day he shoots par golf. On the par-5, 14th hole, Chad drove his ball into the trees, his second shot hit a tree branch and he almost shanked his third shot. His fourth shot was a medicore short iron that landed about 20 feet from the flagstick, but he drained the 20 foot putt for his par. He needed a birdie on one of the last two holes to shoot 72, but unfortuantely he bogeyed No. 17 for a very respectable 74.
SO's plan was to kill me before Valentine's Day because I was being very difficult about a Valentine's Day gift (it looks like I am getting underwear again!). We hiked Camelback Mountain on the Cholla Trail. Cholla Trail is the less-crowded, "easier" route up the mountain. It is 3.5 miles roundtrip. The last half mile or so requires scrambling along the ridgeline. There were plenty of places where a misstep or a slight push in the back would send you tumbling off the side of the mountain. I got dissed by some hikers for climbing in my Skechers and not wearing my hiking boots. I hate to admit it, but they were right. The view from the top of Camelback Mountain is beautiful and well-worth the hike. After hiking, we went to the farmer's market at Vincent's Restaurant, in the heart of the city, for breakfast.
Sunday was gorgeous and I was stoked to play golf. I just got my retro Jan Craig headcovers and I was looking sharp and feeling good. I parred the first hole at the Wigwam Gold Course and it was all downhill from there. I stunk up the joint! I hit some shots that came off the clubhead so strangely I have no idea what I did. I was hitting the ball on the toe and the heel, everywhere except in the middle of the clubface. I was nothing if not (in)consistent. I shot a 48 on the front 9 and a 48 on the back 9 for a 96. The highlight of my round was the 400 yard, par-4 18th hole. This is a good finishing hole with a canal that runs just left of the green. The Sunday pin position was on the front left side of the green so if you miss the shot just a little left of the green, the ball rolls off the edge of the green into the canal. Of course, I bail out to the right. My ball lands next to the cart path and right of the greenside bunker with the green sloping away from me and toward the canal. I decide to hit a flop shot over the bunker that lands softly on the green about 10 feet from the hole and I make my only putt of the day for a par.
While I was stinking up the course, the Gardener was bombing his driver and lasering his irons. He had three gimme birdies and hit another shot about 3 feet above the flagstick and missed a tricky downhill sliding putt for a fourth birdie. He had a 38 on the front 9, but limped home with double-bogeys on the last two holes for a 44 on the back and an excellent round of 82 for the day. It was the best I have seen him hit the ball! Chad Feldheimer was making pars with a few birdies and bogeys sprinkled in. He made the turn at 37 and it looked like this might be the day he shoots par golf. On the par-5, 14th hole, Chad drove his ball into the trees, his second shot hit a tree branch and he almost shanked his third shot. His fourth shot was a medicore short iron that landed about 20 feet from the flagstick, but he drained the 20 foot putt for his par. He needed a birdie on one of the last two holes to shoot 72, but unfortuantely he bogeyed No. 17 for a very respectable 74.
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