One of the problems with being a crummy golfer, as I am, is that you plan every shot with failure in mind. I don’t approach a 100 yard shot expecting to loft a casual shot onto the green; I smack at it with my 3 Iron hoping that it gets some air and doesn’t skip across the ground like a rock on water. As a result, when I do succeed, it’s an accident and I over achieve, often sending a ball flying over the green.
I’m not going to detail the 9 holes George and I played last Saturday. The most interesting golf story to tell is that of the perfect shot you made and the most tedious golf story to hear is the story of the perfect shot that someone else made. As a result, I’ll not detail my drive on the 14th hole that went far and true. It felt good. Every round of golf needs that hit, the one that feels good. If you don’t get one shot like that, there’s no incentive to keep playing.
I believe it was Mark Twain that noted ‘Golf is a good walk spoiled’. It’s not a concept I can totally argue with especially considering the frustration I have expressed on occasion on the course. At the same time, golf is a good excuse for a walk and I can use all the excuses for exercise that I can get. You may not have noticed but I can be a bit lazy.
I’m not very good at skipping rocks on water either.
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