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Is the Block Party Over So Soon?

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Has Our #Blockwatch ended? Some are asking, let’s be real…should it? To that I say – Really so soon – are we already giving up?

Labeling it as a Day filled with up and downs is undeniable… I’ll let you decide. Well – Here are just some of Michael Block’s first-round Charles Schwab Challenge accomplishments:

  • Aiming towards the trees, he fired his first shot of the day deep into the bushes.
  • He hit his third shot of the day dead into a bunker and buried it.
  • Bladed a wedge 40 yards past the pin.
  • dealt with demands for photographs from his large fan base mid-round – this is not a pro-am it’s a PGA event – I am all for fan interaction but after every shot… 
  • drove a fairway wood to within four feet of the hole and made a birdie on the par-3 fourth hole. That’s right a 2 putt from 3 feet. 
  • His ninth-hole approach came within a foot of the hole.
  • Then On the 10th, he hit his approach shot off a bridge made of concrete for an all world up and in.
  • Almost every shot – good or bad – he swooned for a picture. The cameras and fans ate it up like a hearty breakfast.
  • Three of the last four holes he played were double bogeys.
  • Dropping the patented Phil thumbs up religiously to the fans – that’s Lefty’s move and always will be…

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You be the judge – Real or Flash in the Pan…

After bragging to Bob Menery of the Ripper Magoo Podcast about his “world-class” short game the day before, he ended up losing roughly seven strokes to the field on and around the greens.

Scored an 81 (+11) and finished 120th out of 120 players, a mere four strokes behind 2nd to last place – 119th.

Head golf professional Block, 46, of California’s Arroyo Trabuco Golf Club, is more talented than he appeared yesterday. However, he is not on par with the best players on the PGA Tour. His thrilling T-15 finish at last week’s PGA Championship was an outlier that, no matter how many invitations he receives from sponsors, is highly unlikely to be repeated on a major stage.

I mean, he’s entertaining, without question!  But damn it I wanted this ride to last a little longer. “That’s what she said” – Credit to the Legend Michael Scott

Blockie has the potential to grind some purists’ gears, like many interesting characters in media. His post-shot antics often come off as staged, and his self-assurance might read more like counterfeit confidence. This isn’t a judgment of his character; it’s just how he comes across in conversation, at least to some. Myself excluded for the record – I happen to love it and find it refreshing and extremely authentic!

The golfing press, and even the wider sports media, have put in extra time and effort to turn Block’s every dude appeal into views, and he has gladly accepted their attention. Announcer Smylie Kaufman claimed on yesterday’s Charles Schwab Challenge broadcast that Block had done at least 30 interviews between PGA Sunday and Colonial Thursday. Thirty! Read that again – Say what you will but the man is riding this ’till the wheels fall off. 

Online discussion on Block had been civil until Wednesday’s inadvisable Ripper Magoo appearance followed up by Thursday’s 81. Which, hear me out, I can see, but is no doubt disappointing and a shame. Let me be straight with you all – we shouldn’t beat the guy up – he is GOOD for the game and proof that every man has his day. However, now that Block’s golf game has crashed and burned, is it best to just move on?

Can we? Should we? Well screw it, I know for one I am watching this event today solely to see what he does and how he reacts after a round I would be a bit upset about as a 6 handicap. This week will be telling in his PGA run. Got my popcorn ??? READY! Go get em Blockie!

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Meet The Canadian Open Qualifier Tied To ClickIt Golf!

“This week was incredible,” he said. “A dream come true.”

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Josh Goldenberg doesn’t plan to quit his day job. But he had a great time dabbling in his old career.

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He gave up on pro golf, then qualified for his first PGA Tour event.

Read the full story here
https://golf.com/news/josh-goldenberg-rbc-canadian-open/?amp=1

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Bets & Babes: Betting on Birdies

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In this latest episode of Bets and Babes join me and my special guest Robert from the World Series of Golf as we tee up a whole new way to think about betting on the green.

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We break down golf betting basics, share hilarious stories and talk about how to bet in a way that might resonate with us ladies.

Whether you’re a total newbie or just curious how to make golf Sundays more exciting, this episode delivers fun, flirty, and smart tips to get you in the game. 🎧⛳💸

Click below to listen to the entire episode and leave your comments and suggestions for future episodes.

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The Bogey Man’s Guide to Accidental Course Exploration: Or, How I Found My Ball (Eventually) in the Rough of Life

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Ah, golf. The gentle game of precision, patience, and occasionally, profound personal humiliation. You know, the kind that makes you question all your life choices, particularly the one where you decided to spend your Saturday morning chasing a tiny white ball around 18 acres of manicured torture.

Boo here, reporting live from the depths of a particularly thorny patch of “rough” that I’m fairly certain wasn’t on the course map. My mission? To recount a tale of a golf shot so spectacularly off-target, it became less about breaking par and more about breaking new ground. Literally.

It was a glorious Tuesday. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and my swing felt… well, it felt like something. I was on the par-4 7th, a hole notorious for its deceptive dogleg and a bunker that swallows balls faster than a hungry teenager devours pizza. My plan was simple: a nice, controlled fade, landing gently just short of the green. A textbook approach, really.

What actually happened was less “textbook” and more “abstract expressionism.” My driver, bless its misguided heart, decided that “fade” was merely a suggestion, and “controlled” was a concept best left to professional pilots. The ball, a brand-new, gleaming Titleist Pro V1 (because, you know, optimism), launched with the trajectory of a startled pheasant and veered sharply right. So sharply, in fact, it cleared the cart path, hopped over the maintenance shed, and disappeared into what I can only describe as a dense, untamed jungle previously known as “the woods bordering the 7th fairway.”

Now, a lesser golfer, a more sensible golfer, might have declared it lost, taken a drop, and moved on with their dignity mostly intact. But I, dear readers, am Mr. Bogey Man. And the Bogey Man doesn’t abandon his children, especially when they cost $5 a pop.

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So, armed with a 7-iron (optimism again, clearly), a profound sense of misplaced determination, and a faint hope that perhaps a deer had picked it up and was using it as a chew toy, I plunged into the abyss.

The first five minutes were a blur of tangled vines, unseen roots, and the distinct feeling that I was being watched by small, judgmental woodland creatures. My pristine golf shoes quickly became mud-caked relics. My carefully tucked-in shirt became a casualty of low-hanging branches. I swear, I heard a squirrel snicker.

Then, a glimmer! A flash of white amidst the green. “Aha!” I cried, startling a family of robins. I pushed through a particularly stubborn bush, only to find… a discarded plastic water bottle. My heart sank faster than my last putt from 3 feet.

I pressed on, muttering to myself about the unfairness of golf, the existential dread of lost balls, and whether it was too late to take up competitive napping. Just as I was about to give up and declare the ball a permanent resident of the arboreal underworld, I saw it. Nestled perfectly at the base of an ancient oak, gleaming defiantly, was my Pro V1.

The triumph! The sheer, unadulterated joy! It was like finding the Holy Grail, if the Holy Grail was spherical and prone to slicing. I carefully extracted it, brushed off a few leaves, and held it aloft.

Then I looked around. I had no idea where I was. The fairway was a distant, hazy memory. The cart path? A myth. I was utterly, gloriously lost.

It took another fifteen minutes of bushwhacking, a brief but intense wrestling match with a particularly aggressive thistle, and the accidental discovery of what I’m pretty sure was a very old, very moldy sandwich, but I eventually stumbled back onto the course. My playing partners, who had long since finished the hole and were contemplating sending out a search party (or at least ordering another round of drinks), looked at me with a mixture of pity and amusement.

My score on the 7th? Let’s just say it involved a number that would make a mathematician weep. But the story? The adventure? The sheer ridiculousness of it all? Priceless.

So, the next time your ball decides to take an unscheduled tour of the local flora and fauna, don’t despair. Embrace it. See it as an opportunity for accidental exploration. You might not break 80, but you’ll definitely have a story. And isn’t that what golf is really about? (Besides the frustration, the lost balls, and the occasional snickering squirrel, of course.)

Until next time, keep those swings (mostly) in bounds, and remember: even a bogey can be an adventure.

Boo

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