Let’s talk about chips.
Generally, I best enjoy them hot, with aioli or cheese and gravy (unless I can get my mitts on actual poutine, then it’s all on).
Those chips, while not agreeing with my waistline at all, are my friends.
The chips I was introduced to on Monday?
Not a fan.
At our third ‘She Loves Golf’ lesson with Kiss My Putt’s Janie Reese I began to understand what actual golfers mean when they say it is the most frustrating game around.
After not sucking at putting a fortnight ago, I started visualising hitting a golf ball properly, something that’s historically worked quite well (pre-chips), when I was many years younger and actively involved in the competitive sporting things.
At the Arrowtown golf course, we had another crack at what we learned during our first lesson — which didn’t go very well for me.
I strode with semi-confidence to the ball, picturing myself lobbing it up in the air and having it sail a hundred or so metres straight towards the hole.
Reality bit hard.
Many, many bad words were uttered.
There was little lob to be found, the ball went straight, just not straight ahead, and in several cases the distance was more like 100 centimetres.
The only heartening thing was to know I was not the only one on struggle street.
One of the other wonderful ladies in my group was also battling … and she’s been brushing grass, every night, pretty much since we started.
Janie, perhaps sensing things were going awry for us, swooped in to assist.
After a couple of little modifications, both of us managed to get air under the ball, which travelled in a more direct line to the hole, and a bit further than it had.
There were actual happy dances, and high-fives, and a realisation we are (slowly) improving.
Then came the chips.
Chipping requires one to hit a golf ball in such a fashion it gains air for a short distance before hitting a certain area of the extremely well-manicured part of the golf course, commonly known as the green, at which point — in theory — the ball will quietly roll to the hole.
In our cases, a hula hoop.
These chips require mathematical equations based on percentages of ‘‘loft’’ according to the club we’re using, along with technical standing positions and gripping and swinging.
The latter, Janie Reese says, should be more like a ‘‘wrecking ball’’ motion.
My swing was most definitely wrecking things, namely, my ability to chip.
After trying and failing (in my case, miserably), Janie told us getting one’s knees to ‘‘kiss’’ at the end will help.
I’m very familiar with this as it relates to my thighs (thanks, largely to aforementioned hot chips), but making my knees kiss is an entirely different thing.
And then I had to think about sweeping dust from my house while using my wrecking ball.
I prefer the vacuum, if I’m honest.
I think I managed to get one ball of about 50 into a hula hoop … just not the hula hoop I was aiming for.
And as for getting air under it?
I could jump higher — and, thanks to hot chips, that’s not saying much.
Janie assures us if we keep ‘‘brushing the grass’’ at home, things will improve … only time will tell.
