I knowingly, willingly, married a golf nut five years ago. I was so infatuated with this man that I happily agreed to watch endless hours of golf coverage on our weekends together. I was blissfully captivated by his joy and all his adorable reactions to the shots on TV; I barely even looked at the screen. And really, why would I? I mean, is there anything more boring to watch? (Note: The Masters are not included in that terrible generalization. That tournament is actually almost, dare I say it, thrilling : )
My infatuation with my new husband even led me out onto the golf course. I couldn’t bear to be separated from him for a long lonely 4 hours. I was determined not to become another bitter “golf widow”. I hacked around with his 5-wood, and puttered around with his putter. The emotional rollercoaster of the game came as a shock. How could this game, so seemingly effortless and dull on TV, make me want to gnaw off my grips and scream bloody murder?
As my infatuation for my husband grew and matured, so did his love for golf (oh, and for me too of course : ) His handicap dropped. He read mountains of golf magazines, cover to cover. He became addicted to the golf channel. I watched it all, and listened, boy did I listen. Without knowing it, I too became literate in the language of the game: the techniques, equipment, players, rules, etc. It osmosed slowly from his brain to mine. Little did I know, it would one day pay off.
That day was yesterday.
My husband’s golf obsession took the ultimate step a month ago. Long story short, he now sells golf clubs for a living. He’s brilliant at it, and loves it. The man is living the dream. Ok, so the PGAwould technically be “the dream”, but he’s a whole lot closer than he’s ever been before. And what was my darling’s first order of business at his new job? Why, to set his wife up with a sweet sweet set of clubs, of course. (I’ll post a picture on an upcoming post for your drooling pleasure)
I played my first round with my new clubs yesterday. And I tell ya’, it’s a whole new game. Suddenly, yardages came into play, and pin placement, and course management, and everything I’d learned about over the years. Most importantly, for the first time, I felt like I had a chance. Each hole was a new opportunity for success, instead of just another shot at grim humiliation. I was shaking from the thrill of it, and then two seconds later I was shaking from the frustration of it. Craziest thing about the round was that I was actually eager for more after the 18th. And believe me, that’s never happened before!
My score was still too high to share with the internet world, but was 7 shots lower than my previous record. And taking into consideration some sketchy putting and painful mis-hits, it could have been a lot lower. It should have been lower! It will be lower next time! Mark my words!
I should have seen this coming.
This was his plan all along.
And I’ve fallen “fore” it!
Oh ya, I’ve got it bad. I’m even making golf puns, groan.