For the third time this year I played 36 holes on Wednesday. Except for the first time, it has been absolutely brutal on my score card which should make me want to stop doing it. But for me golf isn't about being sensible - it's about conquering, pillaging and plundering. The fact that I'm not a conquerer is no reason to stop now. I just can't.

When you play 36 you're thinking about the second round while you're playing the first and thinking about the first while you're playing the second. And, that's no good. I get plenty pumped just thinking about playing once and twice, well, that's twice as much pumped. And, that's no good either.

Point Sebago was the second stop of the day and I knew, after struggling on the greens at Spring Meadows, that I'd be in for a long afternoon. Usually the greens at Point Sebago are smoking fast and, after the downy softness of Spring Meadows, it can be somewhat shocking. What was shocking was that the greens were actually slower than Spring Meadows as the entire course was verdant (thanks in part to the 2 plus inches of the rain they got last weekend and a new regime maintaining the course).

It's hard to describe Point Sebago in a couple words. Cut from 500 acres of white birch forest, it can play extremely long (from the tips it's a tap-in over 7000 yards) and every golfer needs to check out the tee shot from the par 5 number seven. You know the mini-golf hole that you have to putt into the clown's mouth, right? Now imagine being inside the clown and trying to hit driver out of it. So, make sure you choose the right set of tees. It has some of the best short par four's anywhere - #5 has a generous landing area off the tee and a tough second shot over a pond in front of a huge green and #15 is an almost driveable downhill hole with another pond skirting the green (yes, I was in both ponds) - and some of the toughest par 4's as well in #3 and #9. You can hit driver on all the par 5's and you need to and the par 3's are all stout tests. The course goes from the woods to the fields and back to the woods and when the wind blows it's a big test of all parts of your game.

This was one of the first times I have played Point Sebago when it wasn't in the middle of a monsoon and seeing it on a nice day made me appreciate the beauty of the setting. However, it did nothing for my putting. While slower, the greens were true. I hacked my way to 37 putts both rounds and more than once I thought about seeing if my putter could float. 30 putts or less is the goal, especially if you're not hitting a lot of greens (if you really want to depress yourself, check your putting average on holes you're on in regulation) so 37 putts just ain't gettin' it done. And, as I'm heading to the Ledges this week which is known for its US Open speed and wildly undulating greens, well, it might get even uglier. Of course, knowing this game, I'll probably have 28 putts and be swearing at the driver instead. Like a classroom of 14 4th grade boys, someone is always headed down to the principal's office.

Last week Gus and I committed golf suicide. As Wednesday is my only guaranteed golf day I pretty much play any Wednesday there are courses open and this time of year the only real threats are torrential rain, lightning or, worst of all, my babysitter getting sick. Only two of the three happened last week so we were off to Sable Oaks in the morning with Spring Meadows in the afternoon.

Sable Oaks is the course that pretty much kick-started the whole golf boom in Southern Maine back in 1988. Its opening paved the way for other public access courses with private club conditions and many of us cut our teeth there. There's no need for the big dog but you need a couple extra sleeves of balls there and the mentality of a closer. You simply can't let getting shelled get to you because it's inevitable. I would put holes 12-15 (The Gauntlet) against any four hole stretch in the state and the other holes aren't much easier. The fact that they're on the back looms in your mind during the front when there are legitimate birdie holes so you have to dig in and grind from the opening tee shot. Even though the course is missing about 3000 trees from when it opened it's tight off the tees and brutal if you miss greens. I can't blame the conditions as they were as good as I've seen there in years and the greens were even slightly slower. It didn't much matter and I failed to break 90 for the first time this year. It's not a good thing when you have as many penalty strokes as fairways hit or greens in regulation. I'm already planning a return. Sucker!

The afternoon round was good and bad. It poured. But, the course was pretty open (actually, we were the only ones on it). A couple days before I decided to dig through my 70 plus rounds at Spring Meadows going back three years to find out which holes were hurting me and where. I figured if I knew which holes I was three-jacking and which holes I was missing fairways and greens would be a good thing. I figured wrong. It was just depressing. One of the only bright spots was that I had never three-putted #3. Surprise - I did just that last week. Maybe it was the rain or maybe it was walking 36 holes but more likely it was knowing there was only one good stat that did me in. Just a real kick in the teeth and I guess deep down that's what I wanted. The golf gods never want you to figure things out so maybe it's better not to know.

Phil Mickelson, one of the world's best golfers, just canned his swing coach (one of the best in the world) for another swing coach (one of the best in the world) in order to get his swing where he wants it. Me, I try to make changes in the middle of a round by myself. No high speed video, no professional analysis, no custom fitting - nothing. Can you imagine having Butch Harmon or, god forbid, Rick Smith watching you for even an hour and how much that would help? And having one of the best wasn't good enough for Phil. So how do we have a freakin prayer? Actually, that's about all we have when we go it alone.

That said, maybe the most enjoyable moment we get on the course is making an adjustment that works. Getting a brief glimpse at the mechanics of our very own swing gives us hope that we are about to unlock the mysteries of our golfdom. As mere mortals we are faced with countless reminders of why we're not getting paid to play and those discoveries are just so sweet. Sometimes, it's a revelation about your swing and sometimes it's just unblocking a mental block and sometimes one of those moments leads to something like when you unclog a toilet. That one success just leads into another and then another with a giant whoosh. And sometimes we're not able to repeat the corrective move or just forget it altogether by the next round or even swing. But maybe that's what it's supposed to be like. Don't you gloat just a little whenever you find a ball you thought was lost - thinking that a pro's shot would have bounced of a fan and stayed in play or a fore caddie would have found it while the pro strolled (and you can't really stroll when you're pushing a cart) leisurely up the fairway without a worry? Or how about when there's no yardage marker anywhere near your ball so you eyeball the distance, pull the right club, and pure it? How can that not be better than having all the data given to you and knowing within a yard which clubs go how far?

I had a couple of those moments at Spring Meadows last week. Over the winter I decided to all but scrap the shock and awe draw I've been playing for the last 20 years and focus on developing a more consistent and gentlemanly fade. That's a fairly huge change and going it alone has clearly made it more difficult but the results have been promising.

I track most of my results online and can tell you which holes I have birdied over the past 4 years and, more importantly, which ones I haven't. After logging nearly 70 rounds at Spring Meadows I had birdied all but 2 holes and I was at the point I was starting to think about that when I was on those 2 tees and even more when I was standing over those rare birdie putts. The holes are #11 and #17 - two tough and usually into the wind par 4's. They are not the hardest holes on the course but I guess that doesn't matter.

On 17, which favors the draw, I fought the urge and played the big fade. The distance wasn't impressive but I was in the fairway. With a 2 club wind in my face I hammered my 21 degree hybrid onto the green but the putt was at least 20 feet and no thoughts of birdie were in my head. The putt stopped right on the lip and Neffa and I both groaned (this is when I thought about birdie) but as I walked to the hole a gust of wind nudged the ball in for a 3. Here's the interesting part. Next time I played it, I birdied it again. Who needs Butch?

Spring Meadows is in fantastic shape and remains one of the best bargains out there. Check their website (www.springmeadowsgolf.com) for some internet specials and you can walk this course for under $25 midweek mornings!

Good luck and I only go just so far together. I'm apparently programmed to bid adieu to good luck at some point before things get too cozy. For some reason, I'm actually OK with that - I guess I even like the whirlwind nature of our relationship.

Take last Sunday. I don't play a lot of weekend golf for a lot of reasons. I'm married to one of them. If you could play 18 on a weekend in under 4 hours I'm pretty sure a lot more dads would play more golf but weekends are just painfully slow - especially after you get used to the midweek pace. The one good time to play on a weekend in late Sunday but, in my house anyway, that's a tougher ticket than Red Sox/Yankees. So I go about my business on Saturday (yard work and watching my son watch lacrosse) and on Sunday morning, just for fun, I ask if I can go golfing. I believe the actual response was a laughing noise which I took as a bad sign. No matter. I had no plans anyway so it was back to edging, raking, planting and mulching. Then (here's where good luck came knocking) Neffa calls asking if I can play in the afternoon. I explain my situation and we figure I'm 50/50. Since, in reality, I'm 0/100 I know I'll need a huge lift from good luck but it doesn't scare me for some reason. I'm actually counting on it. Makes no sense.

My wife returns from some errands and I'm trying to figure exactly the right time to ask again. This is extremely tricky and the timing and delivery need to be perfect. I don't feel it so I keep mulching but I know time is running out. Before I can trot in the closer, she asks (good luck comes up huge) if I have someone to play with. Out of nowhere. Wham. And I'm off. To Toddy Brook.

As I'm driving to Toddy Brook in North Yarmouth I can't believe the good luck to be getting out on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I even say it out loud. I played Toddy Brook half a dozen times between Thanksgiving and mid-January and loved it. I was looking forward to seeing it with green grass and open water. I had scored well there under adverse conditions so I naturally assumed I would score even better without the winter gloves and long johns. Makes sense, right?

That's where good luck dumped me for the day. The course was lush and green. The greens were smooth and quick without being brutal. My game, however, was brutal. Imagine Doug Mirabelli trying to lay down a bunt. That was me.

Toddy Brook (www.toddybrookgolf.com) opened its second nine in 2005 and the course now is a par 71 that can play to just over 6200 yards from the tips. While the front side is relatively flat, fairly wide open and has some good scoring chances, it also has some tight shots that will test any golfer. The holes that are tough to get to have generous greens and the holes that look easy from the tee, have smaller putting surfaces. #5 is a short par 5 that can be reached in 2 but the green would make Donald Ross proud with its inverted bowl shape and small diameter. #6 is a long par 3 (184 yards from the blues) with overhanging trees to contend with but the green is huge. It's a fair trade.

The back nine really starts on #11 when you cross the road and immediately you notice the difference as you start to wind around a considerable hill. 13 and 14 are two great holes. Both allow you to let the big dog out to play without a leash. #15 is one of the nastiest holes I've ever played. It's all uphill so it plays long and the green is pretty much devoid of a single flat spot. 2 putts there is very good. By the same token, #17 is one of the most fun holes I've ever played. It's a downhill par 5 with water in play. The finish is a unique experience. It's a short par 3 (112 yards from the blues) with a green pretty much completely surrounded by water. Save one good wedge shot and you'll make the people on the deck cheer. I believe we heard groans and laughter. No matter - my luck was used up just getting out to play. It's all I could ask.

Are you FIRED UP or what? A fresh brewed golf season is on deck and if you've been percolating since early March like me, then now's your time. Do not wait - I repeat DO NOT WAIT - to try out that new driver you got for Christmas or the new edges you bought when your wife wasn't looking. It wasn't that many years ago that spring golf was markedly inferior due to wet grounds and a lack of grass but many of Maine's courses have invested heavily in better drainage systems and hardier turf that essentially means the season starts off at full throttle. The science and art of agronomy doesn't get the attention that club technology does but it's the reason the Maine season is at least 7 months long now and you won't necessarily ruin your new spikes the first time out.

I teed it up last week at Spring Meadows and was shocked by how dry it was. If you know Spring Meadows location in a low area surrounded by wetlands, you would never guess that you would see balls bouncing down fairways or into the woods this time of year. I should know better but I was expecting slop but Gin-Joe, OD, Gus and I were able to play the ball down and, because it was pre-tourist season, able to walk 18 holes holes in a tidy 4 hours. The twilight rate is only $23 or roughly 1/3 the cost of a midweek day of skiing at Sunday River. Never mind taking that prospect or client to a fancy lunch in the Old Port, take him to Spring Meadows for a round and a heaping plate of shepard's pie. You'll save money, close the deal, and still have time to run back to the office to finish the paperwork. Or, even better, hang out on the deck with the sun setting in the west and let Erin serve you another cold beverage. Tell your boss I said it was OK to do the paperwork in the morning.