Skip to main content

Stop Buying Rory’s Ball

⛳️ In this episode, why your Ego is costing you 5 strokes a round.

I spent last weekend watching the Pebble Beach Pro-Am from the comfort of my La-Z-Boy recliner. It’s a beautiful spectacle. The cliffs, the ocean, the guys whose swing speeds sound like a fighter jet breaking the sound barrier. And during every commercial break, a very serious voiceover tells me that to play like a pro, I need to buy the ball the pros play.

They make a compelling argument. They show slick slow-motion footage of a golf ball compressing against a clubface like a stress ball in a vise grip, then exploding down the fairway.

Here is the uncomfortable truth that gravity whispered in my ear somewhere around my 65th birthday:

I’m not Rory McIlroy.

And if you are reading this, statistically speaking, neither are you.

The Physics of the Squish

When a pro hits a “Tour-level” ball, they swing upwards of 115+ mph (Rory 123 mph). They possess the violence necessary to squish that incredibly hard little sphere. That squish creates the spring. When I swing at that same ball with my “respectable for a guy chasing 70” swing speed, the ball does not squish. It laughs. It feels like hitting a river rock with a broom handle. No squish. No spring. Sadness ensues.

Golf at our age isn’t about power; it’s about negotiating with physics. And the first rule of negotiation is: Never bluff when you’re holding a pair of twos.

We need soft (golf) balls. We need low compression. We need marshmallows that think they are trampolines.

Brand Loyalty

Before I get to the physics recommendations, a note on my own quirky methodology. I like my golf ball brand to match my iron brand. Currently, I play TaylorMade Burner irons. So, I almost exclusively play TaylorMade golf balls. To keep it practical, I buy the cheapest TaylorMade golf balls.

Is this because of some synergistic aerodynamic engineering between the clubhead and the dimple pattern? Perhaps. But mostly, it’s because when four senior citizens walk up to four white balls in the fairway, three of them are usually playing a Titleist—or here in Carlsbad, a Callaway—that they found in the weeds on hole 4. If I see a TaylorMade logo, I know it’s mine (usually). It’s one less thing my brain has to process while I’m trying to remember how to chip.

The Negotiating with Physics Toolkit

Based on my recent dives into the rabbit hole of low-compression technology (and a recent Valentine’s Day upgrade for my wife, Lori), here is my real-world guide to golf balls that actually work for swings under 90 mph.

1. The Anti-Gravity Machine: Callaway REVA

We just upgraded Lori from 30-year-old clubs to a modern Callaway REVA set. Naturally, we got the matching golf balls. Well, after some research.

The physics here are simple: This ball is slightly oversized. You can barely tell, but that extra volume raises the center of gravity. It wants to go up. If your shots look like low line drives that get eaten by the rough, this is the antidote. It’s soft, it flies high, and it lands softly.

2. The Green-Stopper: TaylorMade Soft Response

I’m making this my current gamer. It matches my irons (see above quirk), but more importantly, it matches my home course.

We play a par-3 course with greens shaped like upside-down cereal bowls. If you land a hard “Tour” ball on them, it rolls into the parking lot.

This ball is unique because it’s soft (low compression for the squish) and has three layers. That extra middle layer helps create spin with short irons. It’s the brakes I need to actually hold a green.

3. The Summer Alignment Trick: Titleist Tour Soft AIM

I have a goal to shoot 70 by the time I turn 70 this August. That goal will live or die on the putting green.

When the weather warms up and the greens get fast, I may switch to the Titleist Tour Soft. It’s a little firmer (more of a “click” when you putt), but I’m trying the “AIM” version. It has a giant, bold alignment track wrapped around the side. I crouch behind it, aim the stripe at the hole, and then I stop thinking. I just trust the line. It turns putting from an art project into a geometry equation.

Now I know what you’re thinking, Physics, right–that’s all theoretical–performing is what matters, so we’ll see.

Here’s the takeaway: the next time you’re watching a tournament and an ad tells you to buy the #1 Ball in Golf, remember: That ball is designed for a 25-year-old athlete with the rotational speed of a centrifuge.

Be kind to your joints. Be realistic about your swing speed. Buy a softer golf ball.

Gravity doesn’t care what brand you play, but it respects physics.

I’m Patrick Ball. Stay curious, ask questions. See you on the course (I’ll be the one trying to hit a home run to left field).

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

A Mother’s Day Reflection

With Mother’s Day here and the world bustling with cards, brunches, and busy schedules, I find myself reflecting on something a bit simpler: taking a moment to remember the person who helped shape my earliest sense of home. Mauricette Elaine (Bontemps) Ball. My Mom. We arrived in Cuba after leaving La Rochelle, France, in 1959—a transition whose enormity I only fully appreciate now. My mother, barely in her mid-twenties, stepped into Midwestern life with remarkable courage. Her smile could warm the coldest Illinois morning, and her hugs lingered long after she let go—quiet reminders that you were deeply loved. Born February 16, 1934, the third of four children, she grew up in Nazi-occupied La Rochelle. As kids, we listened wide-eyed to stories of soldiers patrolling her streets and fear shadowing everyday life. Yet she carried none of that darkness forward. What endured was resilience and an unwavering devotion to family—qualities she carried across the Atlantic and planted firmly in C...

Freedom 7 - 65th Anniversary

Podcast - Freedom 7; 65th Anniversary . "Man must rise above the Earth - to the top of the atmosphere and beyond - for only thus will he fully understand the world in which he lives." - Socrates, 500 B.C. May 5, 2026, marks the 65th anniversary of Freedom 7's launch. Commander Alan B. Shepard, Jr. became the first American in space. A 15-minute sub-orbital flight, a day for the history books; the entire world was watching. NASA and the world had witnessed many trial runs explode violently on the launch pad. The space program was in its infancy. Unlike today, there were far too many unknowns. This prompted me to pull out one of my favorite books from my office library,  Light This Candle , by Neal Thompson, copyright 2004. Light This Candle is a biography of Alan Shepard, Jr., you won't be able to put down. It's - "Story-telling at its best . . . every page is alive," says David Hartman, U.S Naval Institute. In the opening pages, you read endorsements fr...

That Fateful Four-Letter Word

In this episode, A Masterclass in Efficiency. For nearly four months, the western border of our property has stood as a living monument to determination, dubious planning, and forensic-level lumber acquisition. Since February, our neighbor Steve has been conducting what can only be described as a masterclass in deliberate calculation. This was never going to be one of those slick home-improvement shows where a cheerful pair of men installs a fence between commercial breaks, sipping lemonade. No. This was real life in retirement. We scaled the vertical wilderness of our hillside. We mixed concrete with the precision of medieval alchemists. We bled, we sweated, and we fought hand-to-hand with a buried tree stump that had the structural integrity of a Cold War bunker. By this week—May 16th, for those keeping score—the glorious end was finally within reach. The fence stood proudly, the line was straight, and victory practically hummed in the air. Only one major task remained: installing t...

Truth for Sale

This episode is inspired  by Elton John & Bernie Taupin On Memorial Day, I took my first bike ride  since the accident , seeking proof that my legs, lungs, and nerves still remembered the road. The morning air carried that familiar Southern California mix of ocean haze, exhaust, eucalyptus, and sun-baked asphalt. My tires hummed across pavement I’ve ridden for years. Somewhere between the steady click of the chain and the rhythm of my breathing, Elton John and Bernie Taupin’s The Captain and the Kid found its way into my ears. There’s a strange kind of magic when the cadence of a ride syncs perfectly with a song you know by heart. Suddenly, the music and lyrics stop being background noise and become a lens. And through that lens, the road started talking. I've been cycling on this road some, Can't help feeling I've been showing my friends around. I've seen it grow from next to nothing, To a giant eatin’ up our town. Called up the tealeaves and the tarots, Asked the...