Going to the range and hitting golf balls isn’t necessarily practice. However, it is one of life’s pleasures.
Driving ranges are so much fun. There are mats and launch monitors. The balls are collected by a minion in a caged vehicle. No need for worrying where the golf balls fly.
One of golf’s true pleasures is what the Americans among us, would call, shagging your balls. Ah hem.
Having a bag of old spuds and hitting them, then picking them up is cathartic. It’s also great practice. You wouldn’t wan to spray the little white sods all over the planet. You’ll spend hours looking for strays. You’ll be target focused.
When you amble down to pick them up, take a wedge. Place the bag in a spot about 10 – 20 paces away from your shots. Now create little pitch shots trying to land them in the bag. The sun setting. The warm twilight caressing your shoulders. You and precious few others just out loving the process and the act of practice.
In my own practice I often discover things or happen upon epiphanies. It is truly one of the most therapeutic aspects of our great game. Perhaps the old guys had it right. They didn’t have the fresh new Pro V1s every practice shot. Just them and their shag bag.
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