When I play golf with customers and co-workers I almost feel more like an undercover agent than a player. Sure I'll speak of "Dog Legs" and "Pitching Wedges" but I'm just not "Feeling it" like the others. I mentioned a while back I got my clubs for free, so I've used them twice! Fortunately, despite the assurances otherwise, I haven't become hopelessly addicted to the game.
There's a nice side effect to not caring though; golf is fucking hard! I never said it was easy before and had no delusions of grandeur in my head, even still I was astonished at how difficult the game is. All the same apparently I'm not horrible which is more than I could have ever hoped for. Today I scored 115 on a particularly brutal 18 hole course called "Crosswinds."
The weird thing is people that had a 5 stroke lead one me (:phht:) felt the need to tell me to watch my follow through, straighten my arm, bend my wrist, do the hokey pokey... etc... Just piss off Tiger, I'm doing okay. Although I don't think the grounds-keeper appreciated me unsodding his fairway or having a beach party in his bunkers.
I showed my appreciation by constantly locking up the brakes on our golf cart... fucker
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment