Still chasing yards at 64

Spent Sunday at the driving range at Veterans Golf Club trying to squeeze a few more yards out of my driver. It was one of those sessions where you keep hitting balls, hoping that the next swing will finally produce the kind of distance you remember having 10 or 15 years ago.

Turning 64 next month, I’ve watched my driving distance slowly shrink over the years. These days, reaching the 200-yard mark has become something of a special occasion. There was a time when 220 yards was nothing to brag about. Now, when I manage to get one past 200, I feel like I’ve just won a minor championship.

Age, of course, has a way of humbling golfers. The swing isn’t quite as fluid, the body doesn’t turn as freely, and the muscles seem to have developed a personality of their own. You can watch all the YouTube videos on increasing swing speed, try every tip from the pros and make a hundred practice swings, but sometimes the ball simply refuses to cooperate.

Well, perhaps it’s not entirely my fault. The practice balls at Veterans have certainly seen better days. Some look as though they’ve been around since the club first opened. They’re battered, discolored and probably have more miles on them than my car.

So maybe the missing yards aren’t entirely because I’m turning 64. Perhaps the balls have simply lost their appetite for flying, too. It’s comforting to think that way, especially when you flush one down the middle and it still falls short of 200 yards.

Of course, blaming the equipment is a golfer’s favorite excuse. If it’s not the driver, it’s the ball. And if all else fails, there’s always age.

Still, there’s something therapeutic about spending a morning at the range.

You get people from all walks of life at the range, all pounding balls to kingdom come, each with a different mission. Some are seriously working on their swings, others are simply trying to make decent contact, while a few seem to be there more for the company than the golf.

There’s the young kid getting lessons from the club pro, with his parents, aunties and yayas cheering him on as if he’s already competing in the Masters. Every good shot earns applause, and every miss probably comes with a little family consultation.

Then there are the ladies in their OOTDs (outfits of the day), looking every bit the part of golf influencers. They alternate between hitting balls and taking selfies, making sure their followers get a glimpse of both their swings and their stylish ensembles. Sometimes, I’m not sure which gets more attention — the golf ball or the camera.

You also bump into familiar faces around the range. Some of the club pros and former tee girls you’ve known for years have since moved on to another chapter of their lives, becoming mothers themselves. Small wonder you occasionally see little ones wandering around the range, tagging along with their moms. It’s a pleasant reminder that life goes on even as familiar faces take on new roles.

I was particularly fortunate to have Eddie Bagtas as my bay mate. The veteran pro, still recovering from a mild stroke, was back at the range, slowly working his way back toward competition. Even after everything he’s been through, there was still that familiar enthusiasm when he picked up a club — and a quiet determination to get back to doing what he loves.

I took the opportunity to ask him about my swing, and he graciously offered a few pointers and suggested some adjustments. I couldn’t have asked for a better bay mate. Here was a man still working on his own comeback, yet willing to take time to help an aging weekend golfer find a few more yards.

It was a reminder that golf is not just about scores, trophies or distance. It’s also about the people you meet, the friendships you build and the generosity of those who never lose their passion for the game. Here’s wishing Eddie a full recovery and a successful return to the course.