Monday, July 13, 2009

Sunday golf

Well I played golf yesterday with my son and dad and had a purty damn alright time. I was hesitant to at first, thinking why “waste” a perfectly good Sunday afternoon, but figgered that I better get out there with my dad while he’s still able to swing’m. And swing’m he did. I’m pretty sure he beat me, I know my son Will did. He wouldn’t let me forget it. It was his first time beating me and I’m sure not his last. He’s got a pure, slow swing like I did back when I used to play a lot. I used to be good. These days I only play about twice a year so how good can I be at that rate, huh? I started off good, hitting my approach shot stiff with a five iron, but missing the three foot birdie putt. I made par on the second hole but it wasn’t long after that the wheels starting coming off. Even though I made par on the par 5, 10th out of a ditch and under some trees, by the end of the 11th hole I had given up hope on being competitive, opting to enjoy the day, the beer and the conversations. At some point on the front nine, Will said “Look where I ended up”. Me, with my rocked out eardrums from Friday night thought he said “Look where I am, duck!” “Duck?” I said. “Is that a nicer version of “dawg””? So the rest of the day we called each other “duck”. “What’s up, duck?” “Watch this, duck”.
Accidently, we had a fifth player with us that my cousin had invited without notice. He was quiet and not very good but opened up a bit when the word got out that he was a drummer too. He told us about this time when he was playing in a golf tournament and after being introduced on the first tee, embarrassed himself by hitting the ball off the heal of his driver sending it flying sideways into his cart and after a few ricochets DIRECTLY BACK INTO the ball holder feature of the cart. “I couldn’t do that again in a million years!” he says. I imagine not. My dad told us about my uncle, who’s son was with us, playing with a group on a green that was blind to the tee box. As they were putting out, drives from the group behind them crawled onto the green. Obviously, some big hitters back there. As my uncle’s group walked off the green he went over to one of the balls and put in IN the cup. As they teed off on the next hole screams and yelps rung out across the course.
Yeaaahhh! Alright!!!!Woo hooo!!!

1 comment:

roscoe said...

Worry not T-50whatever/who's counting.

You gotta play 20 times a year to even think about being 'good' scorewise

But on the other hand.... 'good' in my book is walking to your car after the 19th hole with a smile on your face.

I'd say you are good!