Speaking of legends, here is the link to the Taylormade putter
that, reportedly, Tiger is practicing with, getting comfortable with,
and considering making a more or less permanent switch to. Check it out HERE
And here’s a less opinionated, non-golf-magazine article making the report Check it out HERE
Now that that’s out of the way. Back to today’s story.
I remember the first time I noticed someone else’s stuff was nicer than mine.
I mean people’s things were always nicer than mine. I just remember the first time I noticed.
We were poor.
Not like feel sorry for us poor.
More like our birthday presents were new but our clothes were all from Goodwill poor.
And those sneakers that the new boy in class was wearing all those years ago definitely did not come from any bargain bin. Even as a 3rd grader I could tell they were special. That they probably cost more than all of my second-hand clothes combined. I had never seen anything like them. For one, they were an unusual color for tennis shoes. Nude suede. Neon orange and blue accents. And they were perfectly stitched. Not with the dingy, frayed yarn that my shoes seemed to be held together with. They were clearly the absolute best 1989 had to offer.
I gawked. Uncool. Yes, I know.
In my defense, I was eight.
That boy continued to be a classmate of mine for the next five years. And in that time I got to see just exactly how nicely a child could be dressed if their parents had a little money. I was insecure then, and jealous. Now I’m just thankful I got to see someone enjoy a few of life’s finer things. And he did. He was very cool about it. And, to the best of my knowledge, was never cruel or bragged about what he had. He just enjoyed having it.
I didn’t understand it at the time, but those feelings I had, unprovoked as they were, of jealousy and insecurity, were not unusual. In fact, they had become something of a phenomenon. Designer sneakers had grown to be in such high demand that kids around the country were literally killing each other for them. Shoes. A motive for murder. Specifically, the king of all shoes, Air Jordans.
Nike first released them in 1984, the same year His Airness debuted in the NBA. Just let that sink in for a minute… They didn’t even wait for him to win a championship. Nike just said, “Him,” in his rookie year. Because they knew. They did the same thing with Tiger in ‘96. “Him.” Done deal.
Think back, now that I’m older and I wear Birkenstocks half the time and could care less about the brand names on my clothes, or if my clothes are cool at all, I began to wonder if I’d outgrown those kinds of feelings that I’d had back then. Especially about the things in my life that I valued the most. Because ugh. What if I felt that way about my golf clubs?? Gross.
But it didn’t take me long to realize that I didn’t still suffer from those afflictions. That I had outgrown them. That I really didn’t care anymore. That the feelings I had about my shoes and clothes and car might not have been explicitly bound to those items. That I felt that way about those things because I thought, rather foolishly, that they gave me worth. And it was easy to see that I didn’t feel my worth came from stuff anymore. But when you’re young, and possibly even more so if you grew up poor, feeling that way about the immediate dressings of your life was a real thing.
And while I’m admitting now, as vulnerably as I can, that I’m still an absolute child, because hopefully on some level you recognize that you are too, that maybe we still all are, that I think most of those jealous and insecure feelings have run their course. And hopefully they have for you too. That they’ve fallen out along the way like baby teeth. And all that’s left is that more innocent desire. Not to have things that are better than everyone else’s, but to enjoy something special. Like that kid in 3rd grade showed me you could do. Man, did he have together. I hope he ended up as well as he started. That he continued to be kind about what he had. And continued to just enjoy those things that were easily recognizable as special.
So, if I can just enjoy things for what they are now, and am not bogged down with any sad feelings about it, what are the Air Jordans of golf clubs? What are the name brand, hottest, best looking, nicest irons in the game right now? I thought about it, and it seemed pretty obvious. It’s these: http://www.callawaygolf.com/golf-clubs/iron-sets/irons-2018-rogue-pro-black.html
But then, if those are the most popular, everyone knows about them clubs, what are the elite, nude suede, hand stitched, best of 2018’s offerings? I believe it might be these: Ft. Worth Black Irons
The Ben Hogan Company was started by the man himself in 1953 with the then revolutionary ideology that the everyday amateur players of the world deserved the same precision and quality in their golf clubs that tour players were using. And it was a success. He sold the company a few years later but stayed on as chairman of the board. And though the company is now owned by Callaway, the spirit of the man and their original mission statement has not, in my opinion, been lost at all. The Ft. Worth irons, especially in black, are the coolest, most outrageously unique and beautiful clubs a man can own today. And, not for nothing, cheaper via their factory direct pricing and, more shocking still, their payment plans with “no interest” financing. My 3rd grade heart doesn’t know what to do with itself.
P.S. The Bladed Balata tip of the day: If you’re looking for a few more yards, stop thinking about keeping your head down and start thinking about keeping your head still. Keep it from swaying through the ball. Keep it back, if you will. It will encourage your arms to swing around your spine. And your lead leg will then begin to use its pushing force on your hips, because subconsciously it knows that’s what it needs to do to keep your head in place, and that strength will be added to the rotational speed of your body. Give it a try! And just keep playing!
And here’s a less opinionated, non-golf-magazine article making the report Check it out HERE
Now that that’s out of the way. Back to today’s story.
I remember the first time I noticed someone else’s stuff was nicer than mine.
I mean people’s things were always nicer than mine. I just remember the first time I noticed.
We were poor.
Not like feel sorry for us poor.
More like our birthday presents were new but our clothes were all from Goodwill poor.
And those sneakers that the new boy in class was wearing all those years ago definitely did not come from any bargain bin. Even as a 3rd grader I could tell they were special. That they probably cost more than all of my second-hand clothes combined. I had never seen anything like them. For one, they were an unusual color for tennis shoes. Nude suede. Neon orange and blue accents. And they were perfectly stitched. Not with the dingy, frayed yarn that my shoes seemed to be held together with. They were clearly the absolute best 1989 had to offer.
I gawked. Uncool. Yes, I know.
In my defense, I was eight.
That boy continued to be a classmate of mine for the next five years. And in that time I got to see just exactly how nicely a child could be dressed if their parents had a little money. I was insecure then, and jealous. Now I’m just thankful I got to see someone enjoy a few of life’s finer things. And he did. He was very cool about it. And, to the best of my knowledge, was never cruel or bragged about what he had. He just enjoyed having it.
I didn’t understand it at the time, but those feelings I had, unprovoked as they were, of jealousy and insecurity, were not unusual. In fact, they had become something of a phenomenon. Designer sneakers had grown to be in such high demand that kids around the country were literally killing each other for them. Shoes. A motive for murder. Specifically, the king of all shoes, Air Jordans.
Nike first released them in 1984, the same year His Airness debuted in the NBA. Just let that sink in for a minute… They didn’t even wait for him to win a championship. Nike just said, “Him,” in his rookie year. Because they knew. They did the same thing with Tiger in ‘96. “Him.” Done deal.
Think back, now that I’m older and I wear Birkenstocks half the time and could care less about the brand names on my clothes, or if my clothes are cool at all, I began to wonder if I’d outgrown those kinds of feelings that I’d had back then. Especially about the things in my life that I valued the most. Because ugh. What if I felt that way about my golf clubs?? Gross.
But it didn’t take me long to realize that I didn’t still suffer from those afflictions. That I had outgrown them. That I really didn’t care anymore. That the feelings I had about my shoes and clothes and car might not have been explicitly bound to those items. That I felt that way about those things because I thought, rather foolishly, that they gave me worth. And it was easy to see that I didn’t feel my worth came from stuff anymore. But when you’re young, and possibly even more so if you grew up poor, feeling that way about the immediate dressings of your life was a real thing.
And while I’m admitting now, as vulnerably as I can, that I’m still an absolute child, because hopefully on some level you recognize that you are too, that maybe we still all are, that I think most of those jealous and insecure feelings have run their course. And hopefully they have for you too. That they’ve fallen out along the way like baby teeth. And all that’s left is that more innocent desire. Not to have things that are better than everyone else’s, but to enjoy something special. Like that kid in 3rd grade showed me you could do. Man, did he have together. I hope he ended up as well as he started. That he continued to be kind about what he had. And continued to just enjoy those things that were easily recognizable as special.
So, if I can just enjoy things for what they are now, and am not bogged down with any sad feelings about it, what are the Air Jordans of golf clubs? What are the name brand, hottest, best looking, nicest irons in the game right now? I thought about it, and it seemed pretty obvious. It’s these: http://www.callawaygolf.com/golf-clubs/iron-sets/irons-2018-rogue-pro-black.html
But then, if those are the most popular, everyone knows about them clubs, what are the elite, nude suede, hand stitched, best of 2018’s offerings? I believe it might be these: Ft. Worth Black Irons
The Ben Hogan Company was started by the man himself in 1953 with the then revolutionary ideology that the everyday amateur players of the world deserved the same precision and quality in their golf clubs that tour players were using. And it was a success. He sold the company a few years later but stayed on as chairman of the board. And though the company is now owned by Callaway, the spirit of the man and their original mission statement has not, in my opinion, been lost at all. The Ft. Worth irons, especially in black, are the coolest, most outrageously unique and beautiful clubs a man can own today. And, not for nothing, cheaper via their factory direct pricing and, more shocking still, their payment plans with “no interest” financing. My 3rd grade heart doesn’t know what to do with itself.
P.S. The Bladed Balata tip of the day: If you’re looking for a few more yards, stop thinking about keeping your head down and start thinking about keeping your head still. Keep it from swaying through the ball. Keep it back, if you will. It will encourage your arms to swing around your spine. And your lead leg will then begin to use its pushing force on your hips, because subconsciously it knows that’s what it needs to do to keep your head in place, and that strength will be added to the rotational speed of your body. Give it a try! And just keep playing!
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