The Popliteus and the Driver
I didn't know I had a popliteus until my knee filed a complaint. Then Texas wind asked for power I couldn't pay for—and my driver became a polite suggestion.
I didn't know I had a popliteus until my knee filed a complaint. Then Texas wind asked for power I couldn't pay for—and my driver became a polite suggestion.
Not the internet Karen. Arizona Saturday—chirps, Sabres history, a piped drive into a tree on six, the hero shot in the water, and why scoring is still dirty work.
Ninety minutes before the first golfer arrived, my son was sitting on a tee box at Torrey Pines while I fixed a bug in production. That's the story I expected to tell. It's not the story that matters.
The gap between the range and the course isn't something you think your way across. It's something you earn your way across — with the kind of practice that doesn't feel productive until it does.
Range felt like I had it. First tee said I didn’t. TPC Scottsdale, a breakfast ball, and the part nobody talks about—the searching, not the bad shot.
No context. No introductions beyond first names. No job titles. No history. Just two people and a tee box. Golf is the last playground.
Alzheimer's took almost everything from my Uncle Tom. It couldn't take his swing. And it couldn't take his brothers.
Most of us stopped building somewhere along the way. We started buying instead. Subscribing. Waiting for permission. This weekend I built a compliant, audit-aware business finance system in three hours — and remembered something dangerous.
Golf taps into the part of us that once believed we might be the hero. Every round is a reset. A chance. One more swing before the streetlights come on.
The WM Phoenix Open doesn't reward perfect swings. It rewards swings that can survive noise, adrenaline, and disruption without falling apart. Pressure doesn't create problems—it reveals them. What remains when calm conditions disappear is what you've actually trained.
Understanding a swing change isn’t the same as executing it. Most golfers chase mechanics their bodies can’t support and wonder why it doesn’t stick.
Most golfers blame their swing. The real problem? Desk jobs change your body—and instruction never adjusts. Here's why mobility matters more than mechanics.