Connect with us

Culture

Caitlin Clark’s morning on the LPGA Tour: Shanked shots, pured drives and so many fans

Published

on

Caitlin Clark’s morning on the LPGA Tour: Shanked shots, pured drives and so many fans

BELLAIR, Fla. — There were hushed tones and whispers as 6:30 came and went, as each minute ticked closer to the 7 a.m. tee time. Was there traffic? Has anyone seen her? LPGA and tournament organizers, eager to see Wednesday go off without a hiccup, fretted the day would instead begin with one.

Then, around 19 minutes before her tee time, Caitlin Clark strolled onto the driving range at the Pelican Golf Club. Casual and cool in head-to-toe Nike, an official carrying her bag to the far end where cameras were set up to document her first swings. She thinned the first couple, but soon enough was launching them into the sun as it rose over the tree line. An introduction to her caddie, an insistence to him that she would not care if a club was dropped along the next 18 holes, and a cart ride later, Clark was standing on the first tee box at The Annika next to its namesake and Nelly Korda, the No. 1 golfer in the world — with all the attention on her, a 16 handicap.

This is Caitlin Clark’s normal but something extraordinary for this golf tournament, a crowd that swelled to in the thousands, following the biggest women’s basketball star in the world hit a little white ball.

“We’ve messaged a little on Instagram beforehand but to get to spend some time with her and to see the influence that she has on people, bringing people out here, and to see how amazing of an influence she is just for sports, was really cool to see firsthand today,” Korda said.


So how is Caitlin Clark’s golf swing?

Advertisement

In a word, relatable.

The Athletic sent multiple videos of her swings during Wednesday’s pro-am to golf coach Dana Dahlquist, who works with Bryson DeChambeau, among others. Dahlquist’s biggest takeaway was, like a lot of amateurs, Clark doesn’t load properly into her left side and doesn’t get the hands to square the club face early enough. So by the time she gets to impact, she has to “stand up” to attempt to strike the ball with a square face, which reduces the potential for power, speed, etc.

“For amateur golfers, it’s an interesting thing that all golfers that are not high-level players struggle with the same thing,” Dahlquist said. “They tend to somewhat spin out, tend to have the face more often and if you’re taking lessons it’s a good balance between educating your hands how the club releases and then learning to get to your left side appropriately so you can straighten out your golf ball and make good contact.”

At the same time, Clark’s elite athleticism and understanding of her body still allow her to recover and generate considerable clubhead speed. Her first tee shot was on the same line as Korda’s, and only around 20 yards behind Korda, averaging 269 yards off the tee this year. Even if her approach game leaves her left of her target with a tendency to pull her irons, she always had the length to get to the green.

Clark said she first began playing golf with a pink set of junior clubs, going to the course in Iowa with her dad, and watching Rory McIlroy on TV. She’s since upgraded to Callaway, and in advance of this week (set up through Gainbridge, a title sponsor for this LPGA Tour stop and one of Clark’s sponsors) has been taking lessons from former LPGA pro Martha Foyer-Faulconer in Indianapolis, Golf Week reported.

Advertisement

Golf and basketball fans swarmed Clark at the end of her pro-am on Wednesday. (Ray Seebeck / USA Today Sports)

Clark said following the end of the Indiana Fever’s playoffs she hoped to become a professional golfer in the offseason. It was a joke taken seriously in some quarters, to her surprise, but Clark does want to play competitive golf — against her friends, for bragging rights. “That’s what’s been fun about it. It’s challenging,” Clark said.

Pro golf has occasionally been accused of being too thirsty for attention from other professional athletes and celebrities, eager to bring their youthful energy and audiences to a sport that skews older. That can lead to awkward fits and partnerships that come off as inauthentic.

Clark and the LPGA — this is her second pro-am appearance, after a 2023 PGA Tour John Deere Classic showing — is not that. She is a golfer, casually and comfortably speaking the lingo and dropping Pebble Beach as her bucket list course. She friggin’ cleans the grooves of her irons with a tee as she waits for her next shot.

But she faces unique challenges compared to the rest of us, like LPGA pros lining up to take selfies with her as she walks up the 18th fairway. Or doing a walk-and-talk up No. 7 with Golf Channel, then immediately having to swing — Clark asked for and received a mulligan after chunking her shot 100 yards, and ultimately decided she was done with the hole after airmailing the green. “I’m just the average golfer. I’m going to hit some good, I’m going to hit some bad. It is what it is,” Clark said.

If anything was surprising about Clark’s game, it was how the famously competitive WNBA Rookie of the Year could shrug and laugh off even the worst of shots — a shanked tee shot on the third hole sent a portion of the crowd ducking for cover.

Advertisement

Clark played with Korda on the front nine and then Sorenstam on the back nine. While the former said she was more focused on getting ready for the tournament and light conversation, the latter did offer Clark some swing thoughts.

“It was more just tempo. She hits it a little quick,” Sorenstam said. “She played with Nelly on the front and Nelly is about power, so of course when you play with someone like that you want to swing harder and faster. Now when it’s windy, I’m like, just got to calm down, find the tempo, and try to make sure that club face is more square to the target.”

The Athletic’s Gabby Herzig contributed to this story.

(Illustration: Eamonn Dalton / The Athletic; Photo: Douglas P. DeFelice / Getty Images)

Advertisement

Culture

I Think This Poem Is Kind of Into You

Published

on

I Think This Poem Is Kind of Into You

Advertisement

A famous poet once observed that it is difficult to get the news from poems. The weather is a different story. April showers, summer sunshine and — maybe especially — the chill of winter provide an endless supply of moods and metaphors. Poets like to practice a double meteorology, looking out at the water and up at the sky for evidence of interior conditions of feeling.

The inner and outer forecasts don’t always match up. This short poem by Louise Glück starts out cold and stays that way for most of its 11 lines.

And then it bursts into flame.

Advertisement

“Early December in Croton-on-Hudson” comes from Glück’s debut collection, “Firstborn,” which was published in 1968. She wrote the poems in it between the ages of 18 and 23, but they bear many of the hallmarks of her mature style, including an approach to personal matters — sex, love, illness, family life — that is at once uncompromising and elusive. She doesn’t flinch. She also doesn’t explain.

Here, for example, Glück assembles fragments of experience that imply — but also obscure — a larger narrative. It’s almost as if a short story, or even a novel, had been smashed like a glass Christmas ornament, leaving the reader to infer the sphere from the shards.

Advertisement

We know there was a couple with a flat tire, and that a year later at least one of them still has feelings for the other. It’s hard not to wonder if they’re still together, or where they were going with those Christmas presents.

To some extent, those questions can be addressed with the help of biographical clues. The version of “Early December in Croton-on-Hudson” that appeared in The Atlantic in 1967 was dedicated to Charles Hertz, a Columbia University graduate student who was Glück’s first husband. They divorced a few years later. Glück, who died in 2023, was never shy about putting her life into her work.

Advertisement

Louise Glück in 1975.

Gerard Malanga

Advertisement

But the poem we are reading now is not just the record of a passion that has long since cooled. More than 50 years after “Firstborn,” on the occasion of receiving the Nobel Prize for literature, Glück celebrated the “intimate, seductive, often furtive or clandestine” relations between poets and their readers. Recalling her childhood discovery of William Blake and Emily Dickinson, she declared her lifelong ardor for “poems to which the listener or reader makes an essential contribution, as recipient of a confidence or an outcry, sometimes as co-conspirator.”

That’s the kind of poem she wrote.

Advertisement

“Confidence” can have two meanings, both of which apply to “Early December in Croton-on-Hudson.” Reading it, you are privy to a secret, something meant for your ears only. You are also in the presence of an assertive, self-possessed voice.

Where there is power, there’s also risk. To give voice to desire — to whisper or cry “I want you” — is to issue a challenge and admit vulnerability. It’s a declaration of conquest and a promise of surrender.

What happens next? That’s up to you.

Advertisement

Continue Reading

Culture

Can You Identify Where the Winter Scenes in These Novels Took Place?

Published

on

Can You Identify Where the Winter Scenes in These Novels Took Place?

Cold weather can serve as a plot point or emphasize the mood of a scene, and this week’s literary geography quiz highlights the locations of recent novels that work winter conditions right into the story. Even if you aren’t familiar with the book, the questions offer an additional hint about the setting. To play, just make your selection in the multiple-choice list and the correct answer will be revealed. At the end of the quiz, you’ll find links to the books if you’d like to do further reading.

Continue Reading

Culture

From NYT’s 10 Best Books of 2025: A.O. Scott on Kiran Desai’s New Novel

Published

on

From NYT’s 10 Best Books of 2025: A.O. Scott on Kiran Desai’s New Novel

Inge Morath/Magnum Photos

Advertisement

Advertisement

When a writer is praised for having a sense of place, it usually means one specific place — a postage stamp of familiar ground rendered in loving, knowing detail. But Kiran Desai, in her latest novel, “The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny,” has a sense of places.

This 670-page book, about the star-crossed lovers of the title and several dozen of their friends, relatives, exes and servants (there’s a chart in the front to help you keep track), does anything but stay put. If “The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny” were an old-fashioned steamer trunk, it would be papered with shipping labels: from Allahabad (now known as Prayagraj), Goa and Delhi; from Queens, Kansas and Vermont; from Mexico City and, perhaps most delightfully, from Venice.

There, in Marco Polo’s hometown, the titular travelers alight for two chapters, enduring one of several crises in their passionate, complicated, on-again, off-again relationship. One of Venice’s nicknames is La Serenissima — “the most serene” — but in Desai’s hands it’s the opposite: a gloriously hectic backdrop for Sonia and Sunny’s romantic confusion.

Advertisement

Their first impressions fill a nearly page-long paragraph. Here’s how it begins.

Sonia is a (struggling) fiction writer. Sunny is a (struggling) journalist. It’s notable that, of the two of them, it is she who is better able to perceive the immediate reality of things, while he tends to read facts through screens of theory and ideology, finding sociological meaning in everyday occurrences. He isn’t exactly wrong, and Desai is hardly oblivious to the larger narratives that shape the fates of Sunny, Sonia and their families — including the economic and political changes affecting young Indians of their generation.

Advertisement

But “The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny” is about more than that. It’s a defense of the very idea of more, and thus a rebuke to the austerity that defines so much recent literary fiction. Many of Desai’s peers favor careful, restricted third-person narration, or else a measured, low-affect “I.” The bookstores are full of skinny novels about the emotional and psychological thinness of contemporary life. This book is an antidote: thick, sloppy, fleshy, all over the place.

It also takes exception to the postmodern dogma that we only know reality through representations of it, through pre-existing concepts of the kind to which intellectuals like Sunny are attached. The point of fiction is to assert that the world is true, and to remind us that it is vast, strange and astonishing.

Advertisement

See the full list of the 10 Best Books of 2025 here.

Continue Reading
Advertisement

Trending