Tag Archives: playing sports

Let’s Ask an LPGA Golfer

I’m primarily a runner and the thing that impresses me most about running is all the adult athletes I see around me. Sure you have the kids who ran in college, but I’m always impressed by the people who discovered professional sports later in life. One such person is my friend Caiti Klassovity. When Caiti told me she was leaving the film industry behind to pursue a professional golf career, I had no idea what that meant. I was happy for her, but didn’t understand what obstacles she had to conquer to do that. So, we went to dinner on weeknight in Los Feliz, caught up, and I asked the hard-hitting questions about life as a nearly professional athlete.

Liz: How did you discover golf? Why did you decide this was something that could be your career?

Caiti: Golf was the furthest thing from my mind, but one weekend my now-ex was out of town and I thought, “Hey, there is that par 3 down the street.” So I went and I did it and was addicted. I literally woke up at 6 am every day from there on out, up to today, to go play and practice this sport. It hit me like… whatever hits you and wakes you up.

What’s a typical day? What do you do to train for golf from an athletic perspective? Because all I know is that it’s a lot of walking

Yeah, it takes four and a half hours to play eighteen holes (laughs). I give about an hour a day to working out, which consists of running, core work (where all your power comes from), arms, and I guess your thighs, really. Beyond that I’ll go to the course in the morning for three to six hours, averaging five hours. If I have a lesson, I’ll have my lesson and play afterwards. If I don’t, I’ll warm up for about an hour, then go play for four hours. And then I have to go nanny after all that.

Can’t forget about that day job. How do most people get involved with golf?

Most people are born and bred for it. I obviously started super late. My brother was the golfer, he went to college on a scholarship, and he is pro level now. He shoots under par regularly; he’s like 69, which is crazy good. We grew up on a course so I was around it, but I played basketball, tennis and softball. I think most people start around ten or eleven, and go on scholarship for college. If they excel, they will get their pro card.

For the LPGA, you do what’s called Q school, and it’s a series of two tournaments. You have to qualify and make the cut for the first tourney, then the second. Only then will you have pro status. On top of that, you have to maintain it for that season so you have to hit certain scores in the tournaments you are in. There are not very many people with pro cards, maybe 200 women.

It is, of course, insanely hard to maintain that level of competition—to keep playing tournaments like that. But there are also less women that do that, compared to the PGA. It’s insane. Every young guy you see at the course wants to be on the tour and it’s not very likely it’s going to happen.

I’m older, in general, but that’s the great thing about golf. There are women who have been on the tour for twenty years who are still in the top five and then you have Lydia Ko who is 16. It’s a huge range: you can get into it at any age.

Do you feel like golf is more prevalent in certain parts of the country?

The hubs for golf are Southern California, Florida and Arizona—those are the biggest spots. But also there is a lot of golf where I grew up in the Northeast. Even though we have strong prevalent seasons, it’s very huge into golf culturally. I guess that makes it a coastal thing. But year-round warm weather helps: anywhere where you don’t have to spend part of the year inside.

What do you think your biggest challenge is right now (as a golfer)?

The biggest thing I lack is experience—playing competitively or just playing a lot at all. I have a membership now so I can play every day, but you have to develop a different persona to turn on during competition time. Even swinging in front of people and playing with people is different than when you just go out there by yourself.

For me, it’s about finding a good base of my game, which I have a good grasp of now. I have been working with my coach now for almost a year, so that is coming together. It’s the skeleton of my game. But I think getting into competition mode and performing at that level consistently will be my biggest challenge.

Can you explain where you are going? Why you are leaving LA?

I am leaving LA to move to Savannah, Georgia, in July. In LA, I have a great core group here in the golf world, including my coach—who coaches me for free simply because of our shared passion. But I have an opportunity where I can have golf and housing paid for by a sponsor that I can’t recreate here. I would like to not worry about rent, not worry about a job. So I’m going to take the opportunity to just quiet down and focus on this.

I wish I could remember the exact quote, but it’s like “you have to spend a little time creating the life you want now so you don’t spend all of your time living a life you don’t want later.” That is exactly what I’m doing. I’m not giving up time—I’m working towards what I want my future to look like.

How did you form your community out here?

Alicia is one of my best golf girlfriends here, actually my only one. The scene is completely male-dominated. When I first decided I wanted to play, I literally searched all the pros around my area and emailed them what I wanted to do. Asking for advice and positions. My now-coach Ben Krug answered and said let’s meet. Eventually I became a member of the club there and it’s a community once you are a member of a club.

Age wise, walk-of-life-wise—golf is an old white man’s sport. Let’s face it—Ben is 35, Alicia is 33. We’re all there because we love the game. But everyone can see themselves in golf one way or another other, playing or working in it.

I remember back in the day when you first started this, you were talking to a friend about women’s golf apparel and how it drove you nuts that all you could find was pink.

That has not changed. I was just talking to my friend about that and she wants to do a whole line and stuff.

Are you going to help with that?

I would. I would do that side of things. First I’m going to see where I can get my game and where I can compete. I will compete first, but as another avenue, absolutely. We want different styles, patterns, fabrics, and not pink, but we also want something that’s not $80 for a shirt. It’s super expensive.

The women golfer numbers are lower than before just because it’s expensive. At my course. it costs $90 to play a round of golf.

Speaking of all those costs, what generally are the startup costs of golf: like if I want to go out and play, what do I need? How much do you spend a week on golf?

Membership at my club is about $4200 a year, and they worked with me to make a payment plan when I started.

Just starting with golf, you don’t need the best clubs. Look for slightly used clubs—but even at Play It Again Sports, that will be $400. A jazzy new outfit will be $150 for gloves, shoes, and the rest. A lot of the courses for LA Parks are great and they are only $30; when you play twilight, you can even play some courses for $12.

If you want to get serious, you need to start to take lessons. It is a sport that you absolutely cannot teach yourself. Your natural habits in golf are going to be the opposite of what you should be doing. That’s why it’s a tireless game. You have to have the mentality and the physicality and spirituality—all cylinders have to be firing.

You’ll have the weekend warriors, guys who go play on the weekends and hit the ball around. I think it’s hilarious when people take golf up in retirement, because it’s one of the most stressful things! You have to be persistent and you have to practice. Most people go straight to the range, but you have to have a short game. You have to go to the putting green or else you’re not going to score. But that’s what people who are just beginning don’t know. They just go out and play and they are like, “Why can’t I hit the ball? Why is it going left? Why is it going right?” They try to self-correct and it doesn’t work… at all.

What would you say is the most fun part of the game? Is it the people, or a specific moment?

The most fun part is finding that sort of release where you relinquish control within the game but also within your life. It’s mind-altering and life-changing. If you go for a round, a four-hour round, and I’m playing with you, I will see every emotion I’ll ever have. It’s a picture of character really. The fun part for me is trying to maintain this game and realizing, every time, you are going to have shitty shots. You are going to mess up more than succeed but every hole is different. You always have another chance. You always have another round. You can be in a sand trap and only have one shot left and you can hole it. Or you can putt it in. You can always save yourself.

So figuring that out and being able to read the green—I love it. It’s always challenging, but it always brings you back because once you make that putt or nail that drive, you’re addicted.

It’s never repetitive and it never gets boring and I can see a future in it.

Is there always something to do? When I see golf it’s the most boring sport, but on the other hand I guess some people say running is boring too!

Take softball for example. If you go to a softball game, it’s a slow sport. I could be bored watching that, but the spectators aren’t thinking strategy like you are. They aren’t thinking, “Okay, if she hits it here, I’m going to throw it here. If she does this, I’m going to do that.” You know the mental aspect of the game and you are thinking ahead. With golf, it’s the same. You can have weekend warrior level where people just hit a ball, walk to it, hit a ball.

When you graduate to a higher level, you are using course management. You are able to control your ball flight, you are able to use a different swing for a different shot,  get this distance out of this club, put the ball here.

It’s hard and amazing. I can understand it seems boring, I thought it was boring for twenty-six years, but you know the diehard fans realize that these people are rock stars. She’s not alive anymore but Babe Zaharias is a legend. She was like back in the day during the founding the LPGA, but she was crazy good at everything: Javelin, golf, competitive sewer. And then today, I really admire Azahara Munoz. She’s from Spain. I saw her play a couple weekends ago at the Kraft-Nabisco tournament. I like the way she composes herself, and her swing is beautiful. She’s always on the cusp of greatness: she’s in the top five of every tourney but waiting to bust onto the scene. I like her style.

Final thoughts?

Play golf. Women reading, please play golf.

Liz Bohinc is a staff writer. Compassionate Human Being. Runner. Reader. Science Fact and Science Fiction Enthusiast. Softball Addict. Animation Connoisseur. Twitter: @littlelyme.

Photo by Sara Slattery

Photo by Sara Slattery

Let’s Ask: You’re in a Curling League?

Liz: So, tell me about curling. What is it? Why does it involve—

Anastasia: —the brooms?

Liz: Yeah, brooms.

Anastasia: Do you not know anything about curling?

Liz: I think there’s a Norwegian team that has weird pants? That’s what I know. And it shows up on the Olympic schedule. Actually I did see a good analogy for it the other day. Someone said something on Facebook about how curling is like bocce with brooms on ice. And I was like, “I wonder if that’s actually an accurate statement because that’s such an easy way to explain it.” So is it like bocce with brooms on ice?

Anastasia: Do you feel like you understand bocce ball better than you understand curling?

Liz: Yeah, I do.

Anastasia: (Laughs) Um, it is actually kind of like bocce ball on ice, I’m not gonna lie. The whole idea is that you have these giant rocks, that are called “stones”, and you—very similar to bocce ball—are trying to roll them down a large sheet of ice, as opposed to a lane of shells. And you’re trying to have your rocks be the closest to the center of the thingy at the end, which is it called—oh I’m the worst person to do an interview on this—um, fuck what is it called…the button. The middle is called “the button.” The rest of it is called something else, um, it’s like the…target. It’s not the target, but it looks like a target! You’re aiming for that space at the end. So each four person team throws eight stones, two stones per player, and at the end of those sixteen stones, whatever team has the closest rock to this little red thing in the middle, the button, that is the team that gets the points for that “end.” And an end is like one round.

Liz: How many points do you get?

Anastasia: You get as many points as you have stones in the house—the house! That’s what it’s called, the end thingy is called “the house.” The number of stones you have in the house until broken by the other team. [Editor’s Note: Here’s a link because this makes no sense.]

Liz: So why–what are the brooms for? Do you like use them to speed up and speed down? I don’t understand the brooms.

Anastasia: Okay, the brooms. So when you throw a stone, it’s super heavy. Like, I can barely pick up one and carry it. So they are like these super heavy rocks with handles, and you have this thing called “the hack,” which is at the end of your lane of ice, and you basically put one foot in the hack, put a “slider” on your other foot (to make it slippery so you can slide on it), and launch you and your rock down the ice.

Liz: Mhm.

Anastasia: So you launch yourself off the hack and then release the stone turned a little bit to the left or right—that’s called an “in turn” or an “out turn”—and that’s what adds the “curl.” I don’t fully understand the physics, but this controls the direction the rock spins, which affects the way your rock will curl down the ice. And so what the sweeping does is that it can increase the speed that the rock is going or it can help keep the line straight. If you have really good sweepers, the friction that the brooms make warms up the ice, making it slicker, so the rock moves faster. A lot of times, you might release a light stone with the intention of “sweeping it in,” which means that you are going to have your sweepers sweep it really hard to get the most distance out of it. This gives you better control over placement because you can call your sweepers on and off. That’s why you hear all that yelling: the “skip” is telling his/her sweepers to sweep.

Liz: Mhm. Who’s the skip?

Anastasia: So there are four people on each team. The skip is basically the captain. He/she is the last person who throws, usually, and they’re also the person at the end of the lane calling the shots. The skip will tell you which way to turn your rock (so which way to curl—in or out), how much weight to put on your rock (aka how hard to throw it), and tell you where to aim. And then they yell at the sweepers and tell them whether to sweep or not. That’s why they’re yelling things like “hard”—hard means sweep faster, sweep harder—or “off”—off means stop. Stuff like that. When you’re skipping, you have to judge the speed and the “line”—the direction—of the rock to gauge what it’s doing and if that’s what you want it to be doing.

Liz: Um, awesome. Okay, uh-

Anastasia: Does any of that make sense

Liz: Yes. I also read a Wikipedia article as you were saying it and discovered it was like shuffleboard. And then I was like, “Oh!”

Anastasia: Why would you cheat and read a Wikipedia article!?

Liz: Well you were talking about the brooms and I was like, “I don’t… I’m confused.” So I looked it up and then I was like, “Oh! I get it. It’s like shuffleboard with brooms.” And then the brooms made sense.

Anastasia: I like how bocce ball and shuffleboard make more sense to you. I barely understand bocce ball and I’ve never played shuffleboard.

Liz: So where do you go to play? Do you play like at a rink somewhere?

Anastasia: So I play in California. When I started playing, I was playing in northern California, now I play in southern, but before I started, I didn’t even realize that there was any curling out here because it’s a big Canadian and northern sport–and by “nothern” I mean places where it’s actually cold.

Liz: It’s a sport that requires ice and snow.

Anastasia: It does require ice. So you have to play on an ice rink. But I discovered that a lot of ice rinks, at least in northern and southern California, have curling. But it’s not “dedicated ice,” meaning that we curl on the same ice you skate on and that hockey players play on, which is why they call it “arena curling.”

Liz: Is there a difference?

Anastasia: Well, the biggest challenge is dealing with the quality of the ice because you’re sharing it with all these other people. So we’re always kind of dealing with these dips and slopes and drops in the ice, which can really affect the way you throw things. I’ve seen rocks start curling one way and then completely switch directions by the time they get to the house, or make giant s-curves, or hit a bump and lose steam or just stop altogether, it can be really interesting to strategize through.

Liz: So you turn an ice rink into a curling rink?

Anastasia: We take an ice rink, first it gets zambonied, and then we go through and we use this thing—the best way I can describe it is to imagine a swinging Catholic incense urn—that we use to pebble the ice with water droplets. You shake water droplets all over the ice and then run a scraper over them, to clip off the top, which creates this sort of gritty surface. You can walk on it with sneakers and you won’t slip. I mean, it’s still ice, you can slip, and I’ve fallen a couple times while playing, but you can walk on it with your shoes with much less chance of falling. I know a lot of people are intimidated by the ice and say “Oh I’m gonna have to wear skates or I’m gonna fall over,” but I always tell them: all you have to do is wear sneakers and warm clothes. And you don’t have to bundle up cause you’re moving the whole time, so you get hot.

Liz: So who is the best curling team in the world? Like who’s gonna win the Olympics, in your opinion? Or do you not even know? You just like playing?

Anastasia: You know, someone asked me the other day if the Norwegian team was gonna win purely based on their pants–

Liz: (Laughs) I mean, it’s distracting.

Anastasia: I think the Canadians are the best curlers, but I don’t actually know. You know, there’s a lot of people in my league who are really invested in it and in all the tournaments and things. We do these things called Bonspiels, which is like a big curling tournament, and a lot of leagues—um I don’t want to call it leagues, they are actually called clubs, “curling clubs”, I’m in a curling club—they will have Bonspiels. Like we have two in southern California and there’s at least one up in northern California. And so, there is this competitive circuit that goes on and there are curlers who are very invested in it and will travel to different competitions and things, but I haven’t really gotten there. I enjoy watching a good curling match but I’m not—I like playing the sport much more than I like to watch it. So I watch highlights, or the Youtube video of a really epic shot rather than sit and watch a full game or really keep up with who is curling. But I did spend a couple hours educating myself on the Canadian trials and I do think the Canadians are gonna be in medal contention this year.

Liz: Ooh medal contention… Okay, well I guess you already talked about how you ended up playing, but if I—I don’t want to start playing, I’m just gonna let you know—but if I did want to play…

Anastasia: Why not?

Liz: I mean, not to be rude, but is it like, physically hard? Is that a weird question to ask?

Anastasia: (Laughs)

Liz: We were talking about bocce ball and shuffleboard and people kind of consider those retirement, like on the beach, type sports. But clearly curlers are athletes, it’s not a game. But watching it, I’m like, this seems like a game, I don’t understand. And you said the stone’s are really heavy, but what makes it–

Anastasia: It doesn’t seem that physical?

Liz: What makes it physical? Or what does it require physically? Or like, is it something I can pick it up later?

Anastasia: Yeah. I mean, people can curl at all ages. There is an agility factor with the whole sliding thing but there’s actually this hand pole that people can use to release the stone if they can’t, or don’t want to, get down on their knees to slide.  But the thing that makes the sport really “athletic” is actually the sweeping. It’s very intense—you’re like running down a sheet of ice and sweeping with as much force as you possibly can while doing it. I mean, it’s not the same physical endurance as say basketball or whatever else. But I would say that it’s probably on par with like softball. I think it’s actually a really good intro sport if you’re kind of out of shape and you’re looking for a fun way to start exercising, because I do think it’s a good workout, but I like it more for the fun of the game than the exercise.

Liz: Yeah.

Anastasia: You, for example, would not be able to replace your running routine with curling.

Liz: Okay. That’s what I wanted to know.

Anastasia: But in terms of starting, you can go online and find out if there is a curling club at your local ice rink. I started with a club in northern California, Wine Country Curling, which I had to drive 90 minutes to get too. Now, in LA, I’m in the Hollywood Curling Club but I’ve also gone down and curled with the O.C. club. Most of these clubs, especially right now during Olympic rush, do tons of “Learn to Curls” and drop ins. That’s how I started, by going to a “Learn to Curl.” It’s very low commitment and it’ll probably cost you $15 to $25. But you’re there for a couple hours and they will teach you all the basics. You will throw stones, you will sweep, you will definitely be able to tell if you like it. I enjoyed it so much I decided to sign up for a league after that. But a lot of clubs will also do “drop in” nights where you can just come and play a game or you can “sub” for a league team, which means you come and fill in for someone who is out that week. And curlers are so, so, so nice. They really want people to learn and everyone is more than happy to teach or answer questions from new curlers. Curling is supposed to be this fun, social activity. So while we do take it seriously, but we have a lot of fun too.

Liz: So, what’s your favorite part of the game? And like, what was the part that took you a long time to understand? Was there something you really struggled with?

Anastasia: The best part of curling is, in my opinion, throwing. Because there’s this moment, when you kick off from the hack, where you’re just kind of floating along on the ice. I love that. You’ve done all this preparation: getting into the hack, making sure you’ve got your slider on, that you’ve got your rock, that you’ve figured out what turn your skip wants you to do, you know where to aim,  you know how you need to be positioned to aim there, you know how hard you need to kick off to give the stone the right weight—because the kick off is actually where the force comes from, you don’t launch the rock with your hand, that force comes from your legs—and then, in that moment when you kick off, it’s all done. So it’s this kind of this quiet, calm moment where you are just watching yourself execute. And I think that’s really cool. I don’t really like sweeping, probably because it requires the most physical activity. (Laughs) I also really like skipping. But that was a hard thing for me to grasp–the strategy of it all and really understanding the different ways the rocks turn and where they go and how the curl actually works and the physics of where you want to aim a stone. It took me a whole season before I really started to grasp it, but once I did, it made the game so much more fun.

Liz: Cool.

Anastasia: Now I’m gonna get you to go to a learn to curl.

Liz: No.

Anastasia: I can’t convince you?

Liz: (Laughs) Probably not.

Anastasia Heuer is the founder and Editor-in-Chief of the UNDERenlightened. When she’s not writing, you can find her on the road in search of the world’s best hot chocolate, trying not to burn down her kitchen, or in a park somewhere with a good book.  

Liz Bohinc is a Staff Writer for the UNDERenlightened. She’s also a Compassionate Human Being. Runner. Reader. Science Fact and Science Fiction Enthusiast. Softball Addict. Animation Connoisseur. Twitter: @littlelyme.

My Dark Confession: I Don’t Like Sports

This is complicated. I have a lot of feelings I need to sort out. It’s not that I don’t like the world of sports, the idea of sports, or their cultural weight. Such high-stakes drama! Years of practice and dedication, all for this one moment! The agony of loss! The thrill of a comeback!

There’s a reason a good deal of my favorite movies as a child were sports movies (do not buy me tequila shots and ask me to recite The Mighty Ducks front-to-back unless that’s exactly what you want to happen). But for some reason, even though I’ll spend two weeks of my life cloistered away binge-watching Friday Night Lights, I glaze over like I haven’t slept in days the minute someone turns on the TV for the actual, for-real, big game. I feel like this webcomic accurately conveys what this experience is like for me:

via VectorBelly

And God help me if I’m in a social situation where every single person around me suddenly feels the urge to weigh in on Sunday’s playoff game and I have nothing to say except, “Yeah, they were like… really throwing the ball a lot, huh? That’s my cue to whip out my phone and hope BuzzFeed has just tweeted a new list of “Dogs Who Forgot How to Dog.

I really wish I had a sport that I cared about, or was at least marginally excited about. It can get lonely in here, in my non-sportsing head. But I think it’s safe to say that, aside from the Olympics—which I consider a much more cinematically-adjacent drama-fest than your typical NBA season (Read: Tonya and Nancy, even 20 years later)—it’s just not going to happen for me. I recently voiced this concern to the guy in my life, and he promptly took it upon himself to instill in me a passion for basketball (or at least, an understanding of the game and why someone—i.e. him—might find it exhilarating). This resulted in a lot of pause-and-rewind during crucial moments in the games, followed by “OMGWTFBBQ LIZ WERE YOU WATCHING? DID YOU SEE THIS THING?”

“Oh you mean… that? Where he’s jumping? I saw that.”

We would then watch the shot approximately 3-4 more times until he was convinced that my enthrallment with the moment matched his own. I really do applaud his efforts. But it just hasn’t worked. He still rewinds all the shots, but now we both know he’s just doing it for his own enjoyment.

Upon finding out about my lack of enthusiasm for sporting events, people often ask me if I ever played sports as a kid. No, not really, unless you count my eighteen months of gymnastics classes (I fractured a vertebrae roleplaying My Little Pony one day and was forced to hang up my leotard and retire at the ripe old age of nine), my brief horseback riding stint (won one ribbon at a horse show, got thrown by a horse the next week, and quit the week after—literally did not get back on the horse), or the semester of field hockey I played in high school (I benched myself a lot—my old back injury was particularly unruly that year… maybe). Point being, it just wasn’t for me. I was a drama club kid, through and through.

My mom, thankfully, was sympathetic and padded my extracurricular schedule with art and creative writing classes. Her only caveat was that I had to take a dance class twice a year so I wasn’t just sitting on my ass eating Twinkies writing Sabrina The Teenage Witch spec scripts all day. I remember the day that a parent of one of my peers said to my mom (in front of me, I might add), “Aren’t you worried she won’t have any people skills because she never learned to be a team player? Sports help with that, you know. She should play volleyball.” I’ll admit that I sometimes think back to that moment on days when I’m feeling particularly socially inept and wonder if she was indeed correct. But you know what, lady? I did learn to be a team player, thank you very much! Putting on a play with other kids, learning to suck it up when your BFF got the lead role instead of you, and being loving and supportive towards that guy with stage fright or that girl who’s totally tone deaf—every one of these scenarios is one hell of a team-building exercise for a ten-year-old.

So, have I managed to lead a functional life despite the absence of sports? Yeah, I think so!

Is it socially uneasy every now and then? Sure, but that’s what “Dogs Who Forgot How to Dog” is for.

I think, by now, everyone forgives me for my incurable disinterest, and more importantly, I forgive myself. I’m not going to spend my time trying and failing to be keen on something I obviously have never really cared about. That’s just how it’s gonna be, folks.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I think there’s an unfinished Sabrina spec on a floppy disk somewhere calling my name. GAME TIME.

Photo by Michelle White

Photo by Michelle White