Golf Gypsy--The Lost Stories

This morning I awoke early with stories spinning in my head. At last I gave up and crawled out of bed, boiled some hot water for my morning tea and sat down to write. By then whatever seemed so important had drifted away and new thoughts and stories streamed through my visions faster than I could type or organize my thoughts.

I have piles of notes that are unlabeled but visibly show different resources, such as: newspaper clippings of interest, WOGA, Letty's writings and thoughts, and three piles of "golf" history.

Three tags in my golf history piles caught my attention: Mother's list and costs of supplies for our bomb shelter; a story about being pregnant for three years; and personal story that will not be retold in print.   

    

The rains began Monday and on Tuesday we drove through torrential rains too Shangri-la, Grove, Oklahoma for a golf vacation and history search. Waking up to more rain on Wednesday we explored the activity center at Shangri-la and spent  time playing ping pong and using the Track Master golf facility hitting into an automated golfing screen. Still no outside golf.

When it became apparent this would not be a golf trip, I began the phone calls and appointments with former Miami, Oklahoma, Golf and Country Club members. I've been collecting stories about the club for over ten years now.

We drove into Grove, Oklahoma and met Bev Jackson Moss, who I had not seen in over fifty years. At 88 she has outlived three husbands and played golf until recently when she began losing her eye-sight to macular degeneration. She has battled back from colon cancer and then nearly died two years ago from Covid. She has not lost her sense of humor and good memories of the old country club, as we have come to call it. 

After the hugs and laughter my most pertinent question burst forth.

 "Bev, please tell me about your pregnancies and golf games. I can recall looking out the golf shop windows as you teed off on number 6 and I saw your belly swing forward with force as you hit your drive up the hill and nearly to the bunker. It seemed like that baby is what propelled you to hit the ball so far."  

Before she could reply, I spewed another memory. "Keep in mind Bev that I was twelve when you moved to Miami and it seemed to me that you were always pregnant. I even heard people talk about you as years went by, pointing out that you were the only woman they knew who was pregnant for three years." Once again we could not contain our laughter.

"Letty, it felt like I was pregnant that long, too. Daughter number one, Sandy was born in 1960. Daughter number two, Debbie, was born in 1961 and son, Billy, was born in 1962." 

"No, wonder people laughed saying you had been pregnant for three years, and you played golf, too, didn't you."

Bev explained, " With Sandy, I gained too much weight. Dr. Highland insisted that I get exercise and said, 'You live on the golf course, get out and start playing golf for your health." Her husband, Wayman Jackson, a part owner in car dealerships in Kansas City and Miami, bought her a set of clubs and a pull cart.

"Letty, without even having a lesson I walked out the backdoor and every day played holes number 8, 9, coming into the club house, and then turned around and played numbers 6, and 7 that led back to our house. All the time I hooked a stroller type of a chair to the back of the golf bag and cart and pulled Sandy along while I learned how to play golf."

That summer of 1961 she began playing in the Friday evening Scotch foursomes, a couples 9-hole event. People began placing bets on when she would deliver that baby and on what hole.

That Friday night she recalled, "I played the best I have ever on the 9th hole. I hit four perfect shots and my partner and I, Charlie Trussler, won the night's award. The next morning I felt better than ever and set to work in the garden when suddenly my water broke. My husband panicked and Virgil Cooper, a friend and the undertaker!"

"Mr. Cooper also panicked and arrived at our house in the Cooper Funeral Home Hearst. They rushed me to the hospital and Debbie was born an hour later."

L to R: Beverly Jackson, Winner; Faye Berentz runner-up championship flight; Sue Barnes, 9-hole champion; Dorothy Schofield, runner-up 9-hole. 

"The good news is that I never delivered a baby on the golf course. Our three children all learned to play golf and I took lessons from your dad, which led to me winning the club championship several times. From the late 1960's through the 1970's I became a golf travel mom, taking the kids all over the four-state for golf tournaments. It's been a great and rewarding game."

**The story of the bomb shelter will be published soon.

SupHer Power Golf

Having played or been involved in the game of golf for seventy years one might think that I find the game easy. The reality is that confidence at any age is a major hurdle. In the last ten years my back and hips have totally thrown my balance and game off, causing my handicap to go up and my confidence to go down.

Not to many years ago my posted scores ranged 78 up to 88. Now that range is from 84-99, and it is all based on whether my hamstrings are loose, my hips can rotate and I can swing through the ball. I find it embarrassing to shoot a 94 one day and an amazing 86 the next day.  My pity pot lures me into distress when I don't play up to my younger standards. 

There is hope.  Recently I discovered a new golf program for women called SupHer Power Golf. Their approach is succinct and universal to the mental and physical side of golf for women, and all players. 

On April 17, 2020 I joined a virtual golf lesson through Zoom. It is called SupHer Power Golf Virtual Play Day. The three women who developed this program are Dr. Beth Brown, from Oklahoma, April Kenyon, and Nancy McDaniel. This program turned out to be the medicine I needed to play a better game consistently.   

This live interaction program is divided into three main parts: the Warm up, the Front nine and the Back nine. 

WARM UP

My attention immediately peeked when Nancy McDaniel, Hall of Fame women's golf coach for Cal Berkeley, not only showed us stretches we can do on the tee box minutes before we play, but also asked us to move away from our computers and follow along.  Now that is my idea of learning online...step away from the computer and move. 

THE FRONT NINE

Once we are warmed up and ready to play the game of golf we often find obstacles preventing us from playing our best. This section of the video is my favorite and it became my "show stopper."  Sometimes I actually think I know a lot about golf, and that is when I find out how much there is learn. 

THE GREATEST CHALLENGE TO IMPROVEMENT is OVERCOMING THE OBSTACLES THAT WE PUT IN OUR WAY.  HOW?

Obstacles at Prairie Dunes 

April Kenyon, Executive/Leadership Coach & USGTF Certified Golf Instructor, explains how we need to understand ourselves and our beliefs about the game. By inviting us to explore our beliefs about our golf skills, our ability to improve, why we play golf, and perhaps who we are, we can take steps to overcome the obstacles we believe exist. 

April continues this session by sharing the thought, "Do we bring limitation to each shot or bring empowerment?" How do we change our internal focus to Empowering. Online we were able to chat and share our concerns. Once I wrote out my limiting thoughts I stepped away from the computer and thought about what I had just written. Holy Cow, could that be me? 

Palmer Private Course PGA West
Mountains to the right, water to the left and boulders in between. 

Yes, there may be out of bounds to the right and to the left of the first tee (The Trails Golf Club), but that is not in my head.  I immediately begin to LIMIT myself when I place the obstacle "but at my age" on the tee box with me. "At my age" I struggle with distance of my club selection. I can see how I limit myself immediately.  The irony, is that my swing is actually strong and repeatable, giving me commanding EMPOWERING belief. Which thought process will I bring to the tee box, and each shot thereafter?

THE SKY IS NOT THE LIMIT.

YOUR BELIEF SYSTEM IS.

Later that evening I took my 8 iron to the back yard to swing and listen to my positive belief which truly is "I have a solid repeating swing that is strong enough to mentally and physically help me improve." Since the golf course is not available to me right now, due to the COVID19 pandemic, the backyard will have to work. 

This is called positive communication and the best example I have ever seen in my life is from the Waste Management Phoenix Open when Special Olympics representative, Amy Bockerstette stepped up on the 17th tee box with Gary Woodland, PGA player. As you watch this video please pay attention to her self-talk: I got this. I can do this. This is awesome. They love me.  Amy and Gary

THE BACK NINE

Hall of Fame Coach, Nancy McDaniel, demonstrating the wrist hinge. 

Moving back to Nancy McDaniel, we are given a chance to study a technique to improve our swing. Through the video she uses a broom to show how to use the broom as training tool. We examine and practice our swing in four steps: wrist hinge with face pointing toward the ball, transition motion with the broom lagging behind, impact, finish. How simple and yet so dramatic for a physical lesson. 

THE SCORE

Before using my 8 iron that evening in the back yard I decided to use the open space to really let loose with the broom. It helped to reinforce my positive communication with myself as I rotated and swung through with the broom with focus. However, I did get to laugh at myself when I failed to focus, thereby letting the broom fly away from my body with the painful result is that it stung my ribs on the follow through. There is a lesson here. 

My takeaway from this live virtual golf lesson is most certainly my own positive self-communication and belief that my repeating swing will work. I must add that my strong swing will only continue because I believe in working out five days a week, and three of those days must be using the core effectively. The power of communicating positively is perhaps the most important accomplishment in life.  

Visit  SupHer Power Golf on:

SupHer Power Golf for Women This is the landing page that will take you to future courses and events. 

Instagram: @SupHerpowergolf

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/supherpowergolf/

LinkedIn: @SupHerpowergolf

Golf Gypsy: the Secret to Staying Young

Lois Cowles' 80th birthday w/ Carol. 

To this day, I can hear Lois's light pitched voice, her giggle, and stories of life. She was the consummate teacher. Lois knew about life, love, lose, and the Secret to Staying Young.

Lois Cowles, who raised three curious energetic and productive daughters from Miami, Ok, also, taught Kindergarten at Jefferson Elementary in Norman, Ok, for two decades.  She lived by the belief, that the

Jefferson puppeteers.

secret to staying young was to surround yourself with young people. Every spring break she would take a trip to Florida to meet friends from Ohio, and come back talking about how old they seemed to her.  I've never forgotten Lois, nor her words.  Any coach or teacher will agree that children and young people are the secret to living and laughing with glee.  

In my attempt to stay young at heart, I recently played in the 100th celebration of WOGA, and on day two I met and lost to a determined "Flat Belly" (our term of endearment for youthful women golfers.) 

The look of youth.

  
Kennedy Hudson, who just completed her first year of college at Northeastern State University and will be playing on the women's golf team, impressed me with her focus and ability to pull herself together after this old

Letty and Kennedy

woman had her down at the turn (in other words I could have won the match, but for focus, youth, determination,  and ability).  She went on to win our flight the next day.  She delighted me with her skills and attitude about golf, so I asked her how she came to be a golfer.  This is her story. 

I started playing golf because my mother forced me into the sport, and our deal was if I went a full year of golf and didn't like it then I could quit.  On the first day of golf practice that January my coach, Ken Morrow, told me to grab my 7 iron, and I was totally confused.  He could see my confusion and told me that it was the club with the upside down L on it. After I took my first swing, I fell in love with the game and realized that I could be someone in this sport.  My first tournament was in March of that year, and I shot a 122.  I was crying by the third hole.  That year I was consistent in the 120's, and by my sophomore year I was consistent in the 90's.  By my Junior and Senior year I was consistently playing in the 80's. My skills were strong enough to be recruited by Northeastern State University where I redshirted my freshman year of college, so I could continue to improve on my course management and shot making. 

What I enjoy most about golf happens when I step on the course and my stress completely melts away.  All I have to do is focus on my swing.  I never realized that golf could teach life lessons, but it has taught me to leave behind whatever is in the past, and focus on what is going on right then and there. If I continue to think about a bad hole or bad shot then I'm not giving my full effort to the shot I'm about it hit.  It has taken me many years to learn that lesson, but I feel like its the most important one.  I love the feeling of competing against myself and the golf course. Sometimes when playing against someone it can bring out the bitterness in me to try a beat another person, that's why it's important to focus on the shot, the course, and the moment. 

Thank heavens for mother's who push their children into life, and for children who keep the adults young at heart.  

Golf Gypsy and Friends

There's just a little grass before the ball reaches the fairway.

One warm windy Friday in October a group of 38 women gathered to meet new friends,  play a fun round of golf at Prairie Dunes in Hutchinson, KS then toast to good friends, good golf, and good food.  The women drove from all corners of the state:  Kansas City, Coffeyville, Liberal, to Hays and points in between,  to play a challenging course, and for some, to relive the memories of watching Julie Inkster, Annika Sorenstam, and Nancy Lopez play Prairie Dunes in the 2002 USGA Women's Championship.

Since it was not a tournament, and because the golf course can be treacherous, we (Peggy, Kathy, and I) suggested that "the Sn8wman" become their friend, their choice.  In fact, we said have fun first, if the score is too high don't write it down or don't add it up.  Just enjoy the moments, the vistas, and the challenges that Perry Maxwell created when he designed the course over 75 years ago.  Players are now given five options for tee boxes.  A shorter distance does NOT equal=easy.  It simply gives the player (man or woman) a better opportunity to find the fairway with a drive rather than the gunch.  Our three favorite words at Prairie Dunes are, "It's in Play."  For an added touch of challenge,  the ladies were asked to keep putts and to turn the scorecards with putts into the pro shop when finished.

The Twins:  Marsha from Topeka n Debbie from Liberal

The pairings were designed to meet new friends; in every foursome there were ladies who had never met or had never played together.  Our handicaps ranged from 2 to 28.   On the first tee we discovered twins in the midst.  Two ladies who had never met were paired together, and then discovered they had identical bags. The laughter continued with these two new friends as they hit their shots, exchanged stories, and compared aches and pains.  By hole six they announced, "We might really be sisters!"     One explained, "I was adopted."  The other quipped, "And my dad played around."  Who knows?  They both share a love of golf,  adventures in life, and storytelling.

Karen and Marlene

As I played Prairie Dunes, my home course, my eyes scanned the horizon to see ladies walking down fairways, hitting in and out of the many bunkers, climbing up or down the sand hills where the prairie grass sometimes grew taller than the women, and slapping their legs or yelling at the sky as a putt slide off the green, not even near the hole.  How fun to hear laughter across the fairway, and more so when they finished 18 windy holes.  I knew that the course could be wicked with the winds blowing 20 mph and gusts up to 25-30 mph.  Learning to judge the wind and deciding if it is a one, two, or three club wind, and then how to hit the ball high enough or low enough to reach the elevated greens, yet not drop short with the wind in your face, is just one of the many experiences that created stories.  "Glad we didn't have to count the chip shots," exhorted one lady.  "I stood there and watched my ball come back to me three different times, and that was just on the fourth hole!"  

What stories must Deb and Babe be sharing?

"My ball rolled off the green on 17 after I marked it, replaced it, and prepared to putt.  I had a side hill, uphill chip coming back to the pen instead of a putt." quipped another woman not to be out done. "Can You Top That Stories" kept us entertained.  As foursomes finished on the 18th green, we gathered at the patio to watch, yell, taunt and tease the often bewildered golfer, our friends.

Mary Lee, Sheila, Alice, Judytease the often bewildered golfer.

Mary Lee, who has played the course before, exclaimed as she walked off 18, "Letty, I four putted."  "There's no shame to that," I calmly replied. At a near screeching pitch she continued,  "But I four putted four times.  I even putted off the green and had to chip back."  As a friend, I could only chuckle.  In my head I knew the frustrations they were dealing with.   That is why I might shot an 80 one day and a 90 the next.


Perry Maxwell, who designed and built Prairie Dunes, envisioned and created smaller greens with hidden nuances, as one of the USGA officials declared.  Many of the greens are contoured with a hogback that runs front to back or splits in a deceiving Y.  The knowing and unknowing golfer is fooled by these breaks.  These greens require exact speed and a good read.  Besides battling the undulating ridges, the golfer must face the false fronts, whipping winds, the dead elephant buried at the front edge of #11 green, and the slippery swells and swales that can suck a ball off the green, like the intimidating hole #8 or #10. Take your pick.

Ann, Debbie, Nancy, Donna smiling on the 18th.

That warm windy fall day came to an end all too soon, but not before we toasted to a winning formula, "Golf +Friends+Food=Fun."  In the next few days, friends posted comments on facebook and sent emails with notes of thanks and funny stories.  One of my favorite stories simply bragged, "I had two birdies, and four pars...Oh, yeah and I lost five balls."  Welcome to Prairie Dunes, and a toast to many more journeys down the links.

Peggy, Jayne, Gail, Patty..smiles tell it all.

Golf Gypsy: As Only a Mother Can

My mother, Helen Stapp, died unexpectedly nearly twenty-four years ago, and yet I miss her hugs, smiles, and cryptic words of advice daily. We didn't always agree on life's journey or how to best pursue the future.  In our family Mom and Dad had their hands full with two hundred and fifty Miami Country Club members, and two little girls; one adventurous and daring, the other a quiet observer.  My little sister, Jonya, most closely stayed within their boundaries of comfort.  She was a beauty queen and State Amateur Golf Champion.  We both played on the men's golf team at NEO, and made our parents proud when we completed our college degrees (mine just took 10 years to finish.)

USGA Jr. Am. 1965

My childhood days of golf were intense and emotional.  Winning was not something I experienced.  I often missed qualifying for championship flight because of raw nerves, and lack of focus.  Every summer I asked for tennis lessons, swim lessons, diving lessons, anything new on the horizon.  Dad's words were simple, "Tizzy, you need to focus on one sport at a time.  Developing muscles for swimming or tennis might jeopardize your golf swing."  So, I played golf and practiced hours upon hours.  The solitude of practicing became my escape from pressures.

It was the trips to the Jr. State Amateur I loved the most.  Teeing off #1 at Southern Hills and hitting a straight and true shot down the middle is a memory I will carry for a lifetime.  Shaking the hand of a match play opponent at age 14 will also stick with my gut;  "Good luck," I said sincerely as Rita and I shook hands on the first tee.  "Thanks, you'll need it.!" She won the match on hole 14.  Maybe, Dad knew me better when he nicknamed me Tizzy or tried to explain that my golf game seemed lackadaisical.  Maybe, I overheard so many ugly comments by women in tournaments that I thought no one liked a champion?

It was on mother's shoulders that I cried and sobbed with defeat.  Year after year I lost, and yet she held firm in her belief that I could win.  Dad was the teacher, but mom was the counselor, the healer, and the one who uplifted me and told me over and over that I could win. I finally won a Club Championship once before she died, but I was nearly 40 years old.  My family and friends were proud.

Only recently did I realize how much a mother's love and faith in her children can make a difference for a lifetime of learning and growing.  Over the 50 years since my teenage golfing debut, I've learned that it was confidence that I was lacking, not skill.  But it's not enough to have other people believe in you when you don't believe in yourself.  "Oh, well," is such an easy reply to a disappointment in life, whether it is in a career or sport.

A few weeks ago as I walked to my golf cart, before I teed off at Prairie Dunes for the Hutchinson Women's City Championship, my heart was pounding and my stomach lurched.  It was a match play event, one on one.  Now I needed to win one more match for the championship.  I began to question myself.  Did I care enough to focus?  Did I really just want to win, but not fight through my nerves to win?  Will people still like me IF I win?

Helen Stapp probably giving advice.

Like a cloud passing over I heard a whisper, "Letty, I believe in you and always have. Now go out there and prove to yourself that you can play great golf."

My knees buckled and I looked around with tears in my eyes.  "Mom?" my head whispered.   "I'm watching," she replied, and I heard the pursing of her lips.  When her whispering cloud passed over, my shoulders suddenly lightened and memories were filtered.  I knew that somehow I could win that day, and maybe win again while I'm still young enough to compete.  On my golf ball, that day, I wrote these words, "Almost Heaven."

I only hope and pray that I've been that kind of mother for my daughter, one who believes in her child without a doubt--As only a mother can.

*Letty Stapp Watt
daughter and historian

Golf Gypsy: Oh, What a Day!

Salina Country Club decorations.

A mathematician might tell the story this way:

Expenses  6/25/13    $ 90.00
                                  250.00
                                  200.00
                                $540.00
Income   6/25/13          -3.00 
Total cost                $537.00  excluding gas

But the reader might miss the story with simple numbers.

Instead, the day was  filled with moans, ah ha's, four letter expletives, cheers, and lots of laughter.  It began with a benign early morning retreat to the hot tub with the moon shining down and the orioles chirping over the orange marmalade.  By 6:15 in the morning I was driving to Salina to meet my friend, Peggy Anderson, for a golf tournament.  Other than a flare of road rage from a trucker over another trucker the drive was uneventful, and I managed to pick Peggy up at the Subaru dealership, where her car was being serviced, and drive to Salina Country Club.

The tempo began to change at a stop light on Crawford, one mile from the club,  when the policeman behind me on a motorcycle glaringly flashed his lights in my rear view mirror; I could have sworn sirens were blaring, but why me?  A block later I pulled over and learned that driving 50 in a 40 mph zone caused the uproar and a ticket.  What was I to do, but sign on the line and smile.  He said, "I hope you can manage to have a good day, it's going to be a scorcher."    I just thought, I'm on my way to a golf tournament with a friend, it will be a good day.  Besides I knew he had another 40 years of work facing him, and those black uniforms must be hot.  (cost $90)

The formalities of a golf tournament, registration, practicing, following the rules and time schedule flowed smoothly.  My mind began to think of Ben Hogan's phrase, "Always walk slowly to the first tee and set the tempo for yourself."  However, at the first tee I discovered that my Bushnell range finder was missing from my bag.  Even though my body had moved slowly and gracefully, my mind began to race and fret over the lost item. With some deep yoga breathing, I decided I was in control of myself and could either enjoy the day or lose my concentration and my game.  Off and for several holes I dug throughout my bag knowing I would NEVER lose such a needed item.  At last I called Prairie Dunes, when I had a free moment.  No one had turned in a lost range finder, and believe me I checked for messages throughout the day.  I texted my husband, "Please look in the garage. I must have cleaned my bag and left it there."  Several holes later the reply read, "No range finder."  Frustration led to acceptance...this must be an age thing! (replacement cost $250.)

I kept looking for silver linings and found it in a perfect 3 wood shot.  I hit my 3 wood as far as my driver and had been shopping for a new driver even though I knew it would cost nearly $200.   I was willing to try anything to get more yardage.  In that perfect swing, I had a talk with myself.  "How did I do that and why don't I do that with my driver?"  The next hole I hit my driver, like my three wood, meaning I kept my left knee down and flexed, hips level, and rotated through to the target line!  Ah, Ha!  Just like that my driver began to go the distance and my heart and head fluttered with excitement.  (I had just saved myself or Jack $200)  The day was not a disaster.

Next, I hit a target focues 8 iron to a par three with the wind behind me and made a birdie putt.  Since, my friends and I are in the "2 Club" I earned $3.00 with that putt.  Cheers and jubilation!  (Earned $3.00 toward paying off my ticket.)

Daisy dishes for prizes.

Eighteen holes later we returned our clubs to the car, searched again for the missing range finder, checked for replies, asked in the clubhouse, then walked into the dining room proud of our golf game, but dejected over the range finder that I had lost.  The meal at Salina Country Club was delicious, as always, the decorations creative, and then they called our names for 2nd place in our flight, and my name for closest to the pin on the par 3 where I won my $3.00  Cheers again.  (Received two blue daisy designed bowls and a plate for serving appetizers.)  I knew it would be a fun day.

At last, we were ready to leave, but my heart skipped a beat when my fingers did NOT find the car keys in my purse.  I grimly smiled and grumbled at Peggy, "Can't find my keys!"  Hopping back out of the car onto the steamy hot asphalt pavement, I was too tired and too mad to pull out both bags and dig, so instead I walked over to the back right door (SUV's allow this)  and opened it.  From there I could reach into the pockets on my golf bag and dig for the keys.  Suddenly, my fingers touched a solid object.  Frustrated words began form on my lips as I pulled out the missing range finder, that had somehow slipped up and out of touch with my compartments on the golf bag.  "Peggy," I screamed, "I found it.  All the time it's been in my bag!" then I slammed the car door shut.

Peggy calmly asked, "What about the keys, Letty?"  I stopped, laughed, and once again reached into various pockets on the golf bag until I found the keys.  Now we could drive to the Subaru dealership and poor Peggy could drive home without anymore excitement from her friend that day.  (Finding the range finder saved us $250.)  Oh, what a day!

A check for $90 will be in the mail tomorrow to the Municipal Court in Salina, KS.

Golf, it's not that hard.

Letty Stapp Watt
historian, golfer

Golf Gypsy: Easy Breezy

NOT READY FOR STATE!  Holy Cow, the wind doth blow, and yet, we golfers show up for those all important tee times and play when we can barely stand up.  Then again, I've passed bicyclists on the narrow roads and worry as they weave sideways in the wind and cars pass them, so maybe golfers, joggers, tennis players are just simply people who enjoy the out of doors.

Letty and Barb G.

My golf gypsy friends even drive miles and miles just to play Prairie Dunes, no matter what the weather.  Hairstyles, not to worry.  We are there to have fun and create memories. As my friend Kathy Thomas repeats to us, "Swing Easy when it's Breezy."  Following her advice is often difficult when my body just wants to hunker down and swing hard into the 25 mph winds.

Sherrie W. and Barb B.

Memorial Day weekend 2013 and the days following proved that Kansas Winds can blow, and we can still enjoy the day out of doors.  Speaking only for me, I know it is friendship that pushes me out the door to play golf when my five senses are screaming, "What ever are you thinking!   The winds are gusting 30-45 mph and you could be inside reading a good book!"   Since my golf game has not proven itself this year, I can't really blame my scoring on the wind, but then again there were a few putts and chips that rolled past the hole and off the green like a jet at take off causing my score to increase by two or three.  Sometimes I think the weather creates tall tales or at least humorous stories, as we try to out do each other with lines like "Well you should have seen my shot on 12 when my ball careened off two trees and landed plugged in the sand trap!" or "I had a three foot birdie putt on #2 and took a triple bogey!" and the best one yet,  "I was only 100 yards out into the wind and hit my driver!"

Dedication and perseverance are certainly strong traits of golfers, but the most important is a willingness to laugh at ourselves.  We are NOT pros.   Next week, the Senior Women Golfers of Kansas will be playing in our state tournament, more than likely in windy conditions or blowing rain.  Like other games in life it is the friendships that bring us together.  We are not on this earth very long; we weep when our friends and family pass away, perhaps that is one more reason to join in the game of life.

To my friends:  a Toast to those who've played the game and touched our lives, and to those we'll share some time with this summer.  Thanks for the memories.

Peggy does the happy dance.  We love our birdies.

Letty Stapp Watt

historian, golfer

Golf Gypsy and the Lost All (oops the lost Ball)

I love to play golf with my pink Precept balls, that look like the ones Paula Creamer uses, even though I know they are not the same.  I like them for several reasons:  1) I like the color pink; 2) I like the way they feel when I hit them (they are made for those of us with a slower club head speed); and 3) I know which ball is mine when I look out at the balls in the fairway!  I take a lot of teasing about my "ladies pink ball," but most agree it does go straight down the middle, and sometimes it even goes a long ways.  Besides that it looks really special when I pick it up out of a pale white hole on the green.

Notice it even says "IQ 180."

It shouldn't come as any surprise to anyone that I occasionally lose balls on the golf course, especially at Prairie Dunes.  When we first joined Prairie Dunes twelve years ago I actually went to Target and bought several dozen cheap balls to play.  That way I had no attachment to the ball, so that when it flew into the intimidating gunch (tall grass) I just let it go, dropped another ball and hit again.  Over and over I played the fairways, roughs, and gunch until I felt like I could keep the ball in play, more often then not.  Then a few years ago I discovered the pink balls.

I really didn't become attached to that "lost pink ball", I just became a little irritated that I couldn't find it when I knew exactly where in the gunch that it should be, just to the left of 15 green.  Even my playing partner, Kathy, agreed that "pinkie" shouldn't be lost.  Why couldn't we find her.  I had played a provisional and in just a few minutes I called off the search party, hit my provisional, took my penalty and life went on.  I never would have thought about "pinkie" again if Kathy hadn't told me that she and Jim were playing golf a few days later and she looked for "pinkie."  I laughed, but the next time I played I found myself glancing in the gunch on 15 for "pinkie".

Then one day Kathy, her husband Jim, along with Jack and I played a round of golf at Prairie Dunes.  When we came to hole 15 Kathy stepped over to the side after she putted and looked for "pinkie."  Jim and I both noticed and I laughed again, but sadly agreed that "pinkie" was gone.  Jim, in an attempt to console me or cajole me, said, "I bet someone who doesn't appreciate "pinkie" has found her and stuck her in a tub of lost balls, never to play again."

"Probably so," I agreed.  Then I laughed and suggested that I write up a "Lost and Found" notice and place it in the men's locker room and in the newsletter offering a good white ball in return for "pinkie."  I told this story to my friend, Linda who likes her pink Callaway ball and who confessed that she had bought a couple a dozen of them just  last week in Wichita.  She listened and then just smiled and said, "Remember Letty, you are not the only one who likes pink balls."  Mystery solved, or not?

Golf Gypsy at Triple Threat

 First event with MaryLee Evans, and  Letty Watt.  

   

We began our morning smiling and laughing, so glad to see each other again after the winter days and miles apart.  We dressed for a cool spring May morning in layers that would quickly change as the sun rose in the sky.  Even though Mary Lee and I love to laugh and even giggle, we sometimes are a truly focused duo, and May 9 we started the season out at Prairie Trails Golf Course in El Dorado  chasing that white ball down the middle of the fairway in as few strokes as possible.



We even talk golf as we ride along, sometimes questioning why the ball went left or right. I can hear Mary Lee fussing out loud, "What am I doing wrong??? Guess I hit too much grass!!"   When looking at our putting line we jabber on about where the ball will go.  Then our Harvey Penick or Johnie Stapp comments follow with sage advice for us to follow, if we'd just listen.

The first event of the 2012 Kansas Women's Golf Association tournament schedule was the "Triple Threat."  It is a two person partnership that automatically creates all sorts of emotional outburst of laughter and a few chosen words.  The first six holes we played a four ball format (no we didn't get to hit four balls, we each played our own ball but counted only the lowest score of the two of us), the next six holes we played a scramble format (for non golfers just imagine the scramble of two women deciding which ball to hit or which ball gives the best opportunity for the next shot, then double that in a foursome and you have madness or hilarity), and then we finished the last six with alternate shot (the true test of friendship).  Strategy is the key to the game IF partners want to use their "mulligans" wisely, but strategy is a big word, and I have enough trouble concentrating on playing the game of golf.

We golfers use such terms as "ham and egged it" to explain that each of us stepped up to the hit the ball well when the other partner was lagging.  Yes, Mary Lee and I ham and egged it very well in the four ball and scramble format.  We just didn't strategize well in the alternate shot format, but we did well enough.  Today two happy women finished winners--Low Net in the "Hitters" flight.   Now how cool is that?

Winners received Wilton Armetale bread platters and a jar of "Pepper  Belly's" Dirty Jalapeno Olive Relish w/Garlic. Wow, not only a fun event but filled with tasty memories.

P.S.  Thank you KWGA members for supporting this event; Bev Hickey and Tash Fife for hosting the event; and Darlene Allen for taking the great photographs of the players.

Letty Stapp Watt
historian, golfer

Golf Gypsy Recipe

How to Shoot a 58

(A Golf Gypsy Recipe)

Mix together the following ingredients:

4 amiable and competitive women golfers

1-2 dozen golf balls for cutting corners

16 mulligans

2 long ball hitters

2 target golfers

4 putters

1 golf course to host a scramble for women

Before teeing off: apply sunscreen to exposed areas; biofreeze to stiff muscles; assemble snacks and drinks to be shared throughout the round.

Set temperature at 85-95 degrees with winds 5-10mph.

Select (if possible) a respectable golf course with a knowledgeable greens superintendent.

While playing the 18 required holes make sure teamwork is a priority and that high 5’s are shared for every great shot. Be sure to applaud and laugh out loud to ease any tension caused by a teammate who goes for it but misses a great shot. Remember that pars make you proud; birdies lift the spirits, while a pair of eagles might take you to the winners circle. Above all enjoy every brief moment with friends and walk away after sharing hugs.

Jayne, Terri, Letty, and Peggy at Southwind GC.

Golf Gypsy: Orchestrating the Swing

I felt the quiver and tremble on the practice tee that first day in La Quinta. No earthquakes were reported, but I knew my body had made a seismic shift from the bitter cold winds of Kansas to the warmth and sunshine of the Coachella Valley. My body was stretched from pilates and was warming on the practice tee with the sun on my back.

My practice routine is simple: stretch and warm up those muscles first; then swing the short clubs and listen for the swish of the club sweeping the rye green grass; only then do I advance to hitting a practice ball. I enjoy watching the arc of my golf ball when it's struck solidly by a short iron. Once I'm comfortable with the rhythm of my short shots, my body and head orchestrate the music for the day. Singing simple songs to a four/four rhythm clears out those negative words and keeps other thoughts from tangling up my swing. Yes, words can reek havoc on a golf swing.

At last my body is ready for the big swings of my woods. Instead of the beauty of persimmon woods my eyes now watch geometry in motion. My 5 metal wood (what ironic wording) is a 3D triangular shape with the base being large enough to make solid contact with the ball and the tip pointing along the target line. The 3 medal wood is square, who would have thought a square club could work so well. But my medal Driver is the beauty in the bag. Her black sheen glimmers in the sunlight and her shape is like the waxing moon, threatening to return. Oh, does she shatter the silence when she strikes the ball squarely. The new medal clubs nearly create their own band of music on the golf course. Even errant shots off the heel of the clubs broadcast sharps and zingers off key.

Palm trees can keep a ball forever!

The last stage for practice comes on the sloped putting green where my eyes notice the shade design of the palm trees standing nearly still as sentries guarding the tee box. For a time my mind and eyes wonder. I gaze toward the dry rocky mountains, and then to the south where the mountains disappear and the Salton Sea captures the desert. I hear in my mind, "All putts break to Indio." Indio is a small town on the way to the Salton Sea and seems to be a more rhythmical rather than mythical answer to missed putts.

I bend over with putter in hand and drop three balls onto the putting green, one "pinkie" and two nondescript white balls. Playing golf with colored balls is like filling the pages of a coloring book when a child doesn't always stay within the lines. They give me just a little lift! Sometimes "pinkie", as my balls take on nicknames, travels 18 holes and returns to the bag, but in time even "pinkie" strays out of the lines and finds the mesquite bushes, tall grasses, desert cactus, or fresh streams of water.

I laugh in my mind as I write for here on paper, as on the golf course, my mind rambles and I digress from putting. On the green, sometimes the putter pings just right and I know my ball will remain true to the line. In golf as in theatre there are interludes, and for whatever reasons my rhythm changes and my putter sounds dull as it thunks the ball too softly to reach the hole. The ball rolls nearer the hole but not near enough, so I putt again.

Letty, Peggy, and Manon on PGA West.

Suddenly, my friends call from the tee, "let's play golf." I pick up my balls and saunter to the tee box. Game on.

Letty Stapp Watt
historian, golfer