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.
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