Francis We Just Met

Thursday:
We were finishing our circuitous walking loop when we passed two gentlemen conversing in the middle of our street; one on foot, one on bicycle. We exchanged pleasantries and kept moving. Just before we arrived at our driveway, the bicyclist passed and began to circle like a Shriner in a miniature car at a parade, commenting, “You look like you might have played a little basketball in your day.”  I nodded, confirming his assumption. The bicyclist went on to say, “I held Maravich to fifty-two one evening.”

“Pistol” Pete Maravich has been my lifelong basketball inspiration. His posters adorned the walls on my room, I mimicked (or attempted to mimic) his outlandish ball handling skills (i.e. spinning the ball up and down each finger on both hands, then bouncing the spinning ball off of an elbow or a knee, returning said spinning ball to either index finger). In addition, my mother knitted a pair of gray floppy socks (Pistol’s calling card) that I wore long after there were large holes in the toes and the heels. Oddly enough, I had lent my copy of Pistol by Mark Kriegel to a good friend the previous day as we talked Maravich.

Facts:
Pete Maravich scored 3,667- points (current collegiate record) in his three year (1967-1970) collegiate career at LSU. He averaged 44.2 points per game. This was accomplished prior to the advent of the three-point line.

After professing his defensive prowess in the 120-79 loss to LSU (by all standards, a typical evening for “Pistol” Pete), the bicyclist mentioned that he had briefly attended LSU as well…something about a fire truck, a sorority house and the subsequent admission to Southeastern Louisiana State University. The bicyclist then asked, “Well how long have you been playing golf” to which I responded, “Since the age of fourteen when I began my caddying career at Baltusrol”. He mentioned he was very familiar with Baltusrol, having played the track countless times as “America’s guest”.

Our conversation continued, gravitating to the make, model, shaft, loft of my driver (Calloway Big Bertha, Fubuki shaft, 13-degree loft), the make, model, lie angle and the age of my irons (Ping, G5, maroon dot, ten-fifteen years old) and a demonstration of my anemic swing.

He subsequently suggested that I am a 10-index (a solid guess give my actual index is 10.7). He expressed (in the kindest possible manner) that my driver was more appropriate for an eighty-three-year-old, my irons are archaic, my swing is steep, my diminishing athletic skills were going to be a concern in the years to come and I might want to consider relying on a quality, rhythmic swing in lieu of my current situation. In addition, he also suggested purchasing a few cans of Dr. Scholl’s (spray-on) Foot Powder to evaluate ball strikes on the face of my driver. ONLY DR. SCHOLL’s!

Fact:
We purchased two cans of Dr. Scholl’s Foot Powder at the local Walgreen’s within two hours of our conversation.

Friday:
The next morning, I was working in my front yard when I noticed the bicyclist riding by our house. In his hand was a Ping G400 Driver, with a 10.5-degree loft and a top of the line shaft. He thought the club was more suited for my swing as compared to my own geriatric device. He wanted me to give it a go.

After more fascinating conversation (he speaks a golf language I have rarely heard and a golf language I barely understand), I had the nerve/courage to ask the bicyclist if he would be willing to spend some time on the range addressing my issues as he seemed invested in the process. We agreed to meet at the driving range at 9:00 on Saturday morning.

Saturday:
As I pulled into the entrance of the driving range at 8:35, the bicyclist’s truck was at the gate, waiting for the manager to open the facility. What I didn’t know at the time was the bicyclist had already off-loaded various clubs/training devices to the range stall. The bicyclist spent two hours and forty-five minutes attempting to understand and irradiate my demons, suggesting I had a “Wizard of Oz thing going on” when I drop my club from the top. Now that was funny!

I found the bicyclist smart, engaging, kind, humorous, honest, energetic and incredibly helpful; constantly searching for analogies/stories/experiences to connect the dots from his language, knowledge and way of thinking to my thought process. I was also a bit surprised as his doctrine is “new school”, embracing new swing technology (i.e. Trackman) and the brightest minds/engineers in the business.

As our time came to a close (due to a previous commitment on my part), he provided parting gifts which were much more than generous. We committed to re-connecting on our next trip south.

Later the same afternoon, I received a call from the bicyclist wanting to share a newer, more appropriate piece of technology for our trip north. Needless to say, I gladly accepted!

The bicyclist’s name is Francis and he is 72 years young. He is a golf instructor/coach. He is wise, relevant, exuberant and a hoot! He is also a man that I immediately respected and a man I hope to call a real friend in the months and years to come.

Golf continues to deliver immense joy to my life. I struggle with the “play part”, constantly searching for answers, never knowing what I am going to get on the course or, quite frankly what I deserve. My game is always a work in progress. The amazing part is the personal connection part of the equation which is infinitely more meaningful.

Thank you for following Bad Golf Guy!

The back nine can only get better!