Saturday, 23 July 2011

Fore!

I've recently taken up golf. My dad invited me out to golf with him and my sisters last weekend, and I had no expectations one way or the other. I've always been kind of "oh yeah, there's golf" about golf. I was neither super excited to try it nor blasé about it. I figured I would suck, but it was a pretty safe group of people with whom to take a swing at it (get it?), since they all have to love me anyway.

We didn't finish 18 holes because my sister got heatstroke (what a wimp! the temperature was only like 37!) but we did 13.  On the first nine, I shot a 93, which isn't that bad for a first time out.  And--now this is where I start to sound really golf-smart, but it's just my Daddy talking--the course we played has a slope rating of 73. That means that while it's a par 72 course like most courses (for 18 holes), it's rated, by the actual objective difficulty of the course, a 73.  A lot of golf courses are par 72 courses, but they're actually rated somewhere in the 60s because they aren't really that difficult. So, adjust my handicap accordingly--they do in tournaments.

I only lost two balls and both of them were in water hazards that I just didn't clear.  No crazy wild shots into the forest or any such thing. And I let go of the club ZERO times, which kind of surprised me as I have a tendency to throw the baseball bat, and I assumed that would carry over into any sport involving swinging. Maybe it's worth giving cricket another shot after all.

I started having dreams about golfing. Dreams in which I figured out the perfect stance and perfect swing and the perfect putting technique. I dreamed it didn't ever take me six shots to get out of a sand trap again, and of drives that hit the green. I feel like golf is my sport.

So, new Bucket List item: shoot a 93 on 18 holes.  That would be cutting my score in half.  That would be only shooting 21 over par.  That's probably never going to happen, but what is a Bucket List if not things to look forward to? If I achieve all the List items, then I'll be like Kilgore Trout's poor bird and have nothing left to wish for.  Best to stay in the cage, Bill.

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