Washed Weekly: Golf Trip SZN
Will's cooking and Dave's prepping.
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The State of My Game
by Dave
August is approaching, and that means golf season for me. Bold move to wait until the worst part of the summer to get things going, but that’s life as a man in his forties with two kids. No more dicking around, dude. We need an honest assessment of where we’re at.
Trip one is a team event that I hopped into last year. THE West Texas Invitational. It’s located just outside of Austin and played entirely on small town municipal courses. It’s a blast. I played like shit last year and thought about it for months. Hell, I’m blogging about it. I didn’t know most of the guys year one, and I’m sure they’re all laughing at me as we speak. I need a major bounce back.
Trip two, which is the following weekend, is my fantasy league draft trip. Last year was in Wisconsin, and this year we’re hitting Vail to vibe and play Red Sky. It’s a top 100 public course, folks. While not as competitive, there are still personal beefs in play that typically get settled via side bets. Again, I played like shit last year. I would love for this year to be different.
Now, for my excuses. In addition to a four-year-old who demands I throw him around a pool every weekend, I also have a one-year-old at home. They’re hilarious. The best lads I could ask for. But boy do I need them both to get obsessed with golf as soon as possible. We’re not quite at the “Want to watch dad get mad at himself” stage of parenting yet. We’re gonna need sub-90 degrees before I bring a kid to a driving range. So yeah, sneaking out for five hours on a weekend is tough. I’ve settled for early practice sessions that have yielded some positive results, but there’s no substitute for spending 95 dollars, making my wife mad, and burning an entire day on the course.
Let’s break down where each part of my game is at:
Driver (Bad): I’m smothering hooks off the tee and wondering whether it’s defective because I’ve never hit shots like this. You know things are going poorly when you look down at the head of the driver and ponder your existence. I’m so close to tinkering with club head just to create a little buzz in my head.
Irons (Ehh): Better than last year which is nice. It feels like I’ve got way too many swing thoughts. That’s no way to play golf. I believe I hit five or six good iron shots in 2024. I was just satisfied with finding the clubface. Obviously, it was a dark time for my game. I let Instagram instructors occupy way too much space inside my head which unsurprisingly yielded disastrous results. Not this year. I have exactly one man I can trust, and that leads me to the good:
Chipping (Alright?): Things are looking up with the wedge thanks to my guy, Joe Mayo. I’m getting STEEP around the greens, lads. I trust the process. I need more reps, but the confidence is building. That’s huge considering I’m still out here missing greens at a decent clip. I approach every wedge around the green as if Joe is right there with his phone out ready to stunt on his opps when I hit it close.
Putting (Maybe too confident): It rarely keeps me up at night. I’m at a place where I haven’t made anything over 12 feet in a long time, but I’m also solid from 5 feet and in. I think I’m good with that. It’s a real low bar. It’d be fun to be the guy who’s known for draining everything. Even if the rest of your game is trash, you’d always be that guy. “Brad? Oh yeah, dude makes everything.”
Now for the important stuff. As you’ve seen, my playlist is dialed. There will be a few additions before August rolls around, but I’m very confident in the team I’ve assembled on Spotify. And the fits are locked in too. Everything from hat to socks is built with sweat management in mind. You can’t be out there worried about a side text laughing about the salt stains on the back of your shorts. You’ve got to stay mentally strong when you’re playing 3 days in a row. Bring your own towel. Charge everything, especially your Bluetooth speaker. And pack your own snacks. That’s not excessive. It’s smart. Control what you can control, and let the rest of your game fall into place. That’s how I’m approaching it this year. Oh, and do NOT overthink it. Just get ready to have some fun. Don’t put pressure on yourself by devoting a blog to it.
What I’m Cooking, Drinking, And Watching This Weekend
by
It’s my first weekend in Austin since June, and in the words of Dillon Chevererere, “I’ve got nothing going on this weekend and I’m so excited.” Since I’ll likely weigh in on the state of my golf game in preparation for The West Texas Invitational next week, I thought I’d fill D-Man’s slot (pause, lmao) with what I’m getting into this weekend.
What I’m Cooking
Honestly, I barely cook anymore unless it’s for my sons so I’m not obligating myself with whipping something up this weekend. My specialty as of late? Oh, you know your boy is going in on some flank steak tacos with fresh-made tortillas from Central Market and/or HEB. Sure, grilling on my back porch in 100-degree heat isn’t exactly the most enjoyable experience but I’ve got it down to a process.
Here’s the situation.
Marinated flank steak. Probably something pre-marinated from Central Market since I trust their butchers and their seasonings.
My new Father’s Day bluetooth speaker hanging from the grill like a real chiller does. I’ll queue up a song that lets me do five on/five off for the flank steak without having to change the tune. Leader in the clubhouse right now? Dead and Company’s “Cumberland Blues” from their July 16, 2023 show in San Francisco. An absolute 10-minute 42-second banger that’ll get my juices flowing for GD60 at Golden Gate Park in couple weeks. See you at the Sunday show.
Cilantro/white onion mix? Easy money. Cotija cheese? You know your boy will be salt bae’ing it all over the taco platter. Some fresh made salsa from our food processor? Signed, sealed, delivered, I’m yours.
When it comes to steak tacos off the grill, doing less is more. Let that char do the talking, baby.
What I’m Drinking
Breaking News: This ‘lute just cleared out his liquor cabinet. I know, I know, the idea of pouring perfectly good liquor down the drain is tough but I could only look at COVID-era bottles with two shots left in them for so long. As of right now, my liquor cabinet consists of only (1) full bottles and (2) good shit I’m too scared to drink so it never gets touched. It’s time to touch the good stuff, baby.
That bottle of Fortaleza is absolutely shaaaaking when it sees my hand coming for it. Might even bust out the bottle of Don Julio 1942 from the pantry if we’ve got company over. And no, I didn’t pay for it — Don Julio dropped it on me during an ad deal from a couple summers ago.
A couple rocks and some lime is all a player needs if we’re being honest. Muddying the waters with soda water just feels wrong when you’re drinking stuff you can’t afford. May need to snag a Pacifico six-pack to Robin my Batman while tending to the grill, but that’ll be a game-time decision.
What I’m Watching
Oh, you thought the feast was Saturday night when the meat hits the grill? Nah, player. The real feast begins Saturday morning when I hit Peacock for a little Open Championship. The only money I’ve got out there is on Hovland, so if he’s out of it we’ll simply be cheering for a good time and a sexy leaderboard that doesn’t have Tyrrell Hatton on it.
And for our evening screening, it’s time to dip into some Casaaaa Aaaaamor from Love Island UK that I’m lagging behind on. Will Dejon keep it in his pants? Will Harry end up bringing his ex-girlfriend into the villa? Will Ben keep showing that same emotional maturity that makes it impossible for him to find love? Hey, we’ll see, and I personally can’t wait to find out.
You know I’ve been on my reading grind, though. After I finish off Keith McNally’s “I Regret Almost Everything Tonight” with my new book light, it’s time to absolutely mash that fiction button. Can my Fortaleza-ladened brain handle the dense prose of Cormac McCarthy’s “All The Pretty Horses” in all its glory? Probably not. Maybe we’ll save that for my next long flight without kids.
I hope everyone has a swell weekend filled with friends, family, and steak tacos.
One love,
Will
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If only there was a place close to home where Dave could work on his game. You know, like a swing academy..