It's official. I'm in love.....with golf. Love sounds better than obsessed, so I'll go with that. It's hard when you're in love with a sport that cannot be played year round (at least where I come from). I do have the good fortune to make trips to see my love in sunnier, warmer climes during the off season, but these visits are fleeting at best. You no sooner get back in the groove and it's time to say goodbye again. Don't get me wrong. These little off season trysts are like life lines in the darkest, coldest days of a Canadian winter, but they just tease me and leave me wanting.
For those of you who have been following my affair, you know golf and I were together over the March break in Myrtle Beach and it was wonderful. That was weeks ago. So yesterday, when we reunited here at home, well, it was just awesome. The weather even cooperated and gave us a completely out of the ordinary summer day in April. We were hot! And I mean that in whatever way your mind wants to interpret it.
There were two moments of pure bliss that stand out. An island green that I have never landed on in the past two attempts, accepted my perfectly executed five iron. I held my follow through until the moment the ball landed and rolled nicely to about 10 feet from the pin. I tried hard not to overdo the Tiger fist pump (two others in our foursome weren't so fortunate), but I did give myself the liberty of a quiet little "yes!" and mini version of the gesture. I couldn't help myself. I didn't even care that I missed my "birdie opportunity", and settled for par. Getting the ball there in one was victory enough.
The second moment was more of a "horse shoe up her ass" sort of thing, but how we get there doesn't always matter, does it? Faced with a large water hazard in front of an uphill green, I completely blew the shot, hit it fat and watched as it headed straight for the pond. Just as I figured my ball was fish food, I stood in amazement as my ball skipped, once, twice, three and then four times across the water and up onto the green. And if that wasn't enough of a miracle, the ball then proceeded to curl around and stop about 6 feet from the cup. My husband just stood there shaking his head. It was the kind of shot, that had it been on film, would be replayed endlessly on TSN, kind of like the Woody Austin fall in the pond footage we still see over and over again.
Blissful moments aside, we also played with another couple that we actually enjoyed. You never know who or what you'll have to put up with when you book a twosome, so that also made for a good day. So now, golf and I have the next five to six months together before we have to part again. I plan on living each day, one day at a time with my beloved addiction so I don't have to think about our inevitable separation in November. I've got new irons in the bag and a sparkly new ball marker to get the season started.
Hope he likes them.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
My Endless Summer Love
It's official. I'm in love.....with golf. Love sounds better than obsessed, so I'll go with that. It's hard when you're in love with a sport that cannot be played year round (at least where I come from). I do have the good fortune to make trips to see my love in sunnier, warmer climes during the off season, but these visits are fleeting at best. You no sooner get back in the groove and it's time to say goodbye again. Don't get me wrong. These little off season trysts are like life lines in the darkest, coldest days of a Canadian winter, but they just tease me and leave me wanting.
For those of you who have been following my affair, you know golf and I were together over the March break in Myrtle Beach and it was wonderful. That was weeks ago. So yesterday, when we reunited here at home, well, it was just awesome. The weather even cooperated and gave us a completely out of the ordinary summer day in April. We were hot! And I mean that in whatever way your mind wants to interpret it.
There were two moments of pure bliss that stand out. An island green that I have never landed on in the past two attempts, accepted my perfectly executed five iron. I held my follow through until the moment the ball landed and rolled nicely to about 10 feet from the pin. I tried hard not to overdo the Tiger fist pump (two others in our foursome weren't so fortunate), but I did give myself the liberty of a quiet little "yes!" and mini version of the gesture. I couldn't help myself. I didn't even care that I missed my "birdie opportunity", and settled for par. Getting the ball there in one was victory enough.
The second moment was more of a "horse shoe up her ass" sort of thing, but how we get there doesn't always matter, does it? Faced with a large water hazard in front of an uphill green, I completely blew the shot, hit it fat and watched as it headed straight for the pond. Just as I figured my ball was fish food, I stood in amazement as my ball skipped, once, twice, three and then four times across the water and up onto the green. And if that wasn't enough of a miracle, the ball then proceeded to curl around and stop about 6 feet from the cup. My husband just stood there shaking his head. It was the kind of shot, that had it been on film, would be replayed endlessly on TSN, kind of like the Woody Austin fall in the pond footage we still see over and over again.
Blissful moments aside, we also played with another couple that we actually enjoyed. You never know who or what you'll have to put up with when you book a twosome, so that also made for a good day. So now, golf and I have the next five to six months together before we have to part again. I plan on living each day, one day at a time with my beloved addiction so I don't have to think about our inevitable separation in November. I've got new irons in the bag and a sparkly new ball marker to get the season started.
Hope he likes them.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment