I am grateful that I am not forced to make my living by playing the game of golf. If that were the case, my family and I would’ve starved to death a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, I love the game of golf. I’m one of the few people I know who thinks watching golf on TV is really exciting. And I truly wish I could play the game with a modicum of competence—you know, maybe shoot in the low 90s once in a while. Nothing spectacular. But the fact is, I am so awful at the game of golf, it borders on the comical.
I played in an industry outing yesterday, and I don’t think there was a single time that I hit the ball solidly and straight. Oh, I hit a few solidly…right into the woods. And I hit a few straight…but only 50 yards (with a 3 Wood!!!).
I know I’m getting old, and it’s been many decades since I played football and baseball in college, but I’ve never been a total spaz when it comes to hand-eye-coordination activities—except when I put a golf club in my hands. Then it suddenly turns into an episode of the Three Stooges.
Well, we did have a lot of fun yesterday. And I made it thru 18 holes without losing ALL of the dozen balls I brought. So that’s a moral victory. I’m sure glad my paycheck doesn’t depend on how solidly and straight I can hit a golf ball.