5-13-11
When I teed it up, I was more focused on my routine than on my “I hope I win this thing” attitude and nervousness. It was not the best tee shot, but I understand why playing often helps improve my game, more than going to a range. I pulled it, but I had done that many times on this hole in the past. My ball ended up on the front right corner of the closer teeing ground on hole #12. It was on the corner so much so that I could only take my normal stance without falling over backwards and no more.
I had a clear shot between the tall trees over there, and I guesstimated my yardage at around 160 yards or so. I used my 7-iron, and I was reminded that a lower score is only one good swing away. My ball shot between the trees and landed just to the right of the hole, short, but also very close to the green. It took two putts from there, one from off the green a few yards and one gimme from about a foot to earn my par. Mike ended up with a putt for par from much closer than my first one, but he left it short. Carl got into even more trouble, so he did not come close to a par either. I had won. I had held them off. It was a nice victory. Carl did not talk much when it was over. I think he was upset, and that he really wanted bragging rights over a coach. I was glad that I was able to disappoint him.
Okay, one day I felt a pang of regret for helping with the golf team, but only one day and really only for a moment or two. Don had to be somewhere else for his Wishon club-fitting business, so I was the only coach at practice. As I was driving off in a cart to go over to the makeshift practice area behind hole #7, kids walking ahead of me with bags over their shoulders, I saw Bruce and C.J. heading off to go play.
My sister and my brother and I quote movies often, so a quote came to mind. It comes from the third Indiana Jones movie where someone chooses the wrong Cup of the Covenant at the end of the movie. He takes a drink from the Cup, shrivels up, his face contorting and aging by the second, and then he dies in a poof of dried up skin and bones, the blonde German helping lady shrieking and screaming the entire time. Then the knight who watches over the Cups says, “He chose poorly.”
This is after he had told Indie and the group, “You must choose wisely.”
So, of course, my thought about myself as I saw Bruce and C.J. heading off to play as I was heading off with a bunch of teenagers was, “He chose poorly.”
My mom, my dad, and my nephew Daryl are here this weekend for James‘s Confirmation. Sadly, this is also the weekend for the annual Robbie Ward Memorial Tournament. Bruce had asked me to play via e-mail earlier this week, but I declined, of course, stating I had company this weekend and I could not possibly play.
During a game of Sequence tonight, though, I half-jokingly, half-seriously asked my dad if he would want to go with me to the golf course for five hours tomorrow. I would not be able to play with Bruce and C.J. probably, but I would be able to get on somebody’s team.
It was dropped. One look and a comment from Belinda and I knew I had no hope, no chance. I have a ton of stuff to do at my school anyway and... my family is here! Priorities, Pat. Will I ever get to go play golf again without stress or guilt? Heck, will I even be able to go play golf even with stress and guilt? I have not played near enough since the weather has gotten nicer. Arrgghhh! As I write this, I am still secretly hoping that it might happen tomorrow. Can I still pull it off? No. Forget it. Next year, it should be a done deal, though.
When I teed it up, I was more focused on my routine than on my “I hope I win this thing” attitude and nervousness. It was not the best tee shot, but I understand why playing often helps improve my game, more than going to a range. I pulled it, but I had done that many times on this hole in the past. My ball ended up on the front right corner of the closer teeing ground on hole #12. It was on the corner so much so that I could only take my normal stance without falling over backwards and no more.
I had a clear shot between the tall trees over there, and I guesstimated my yardage at around 160 yards or so. I used my 7-iron, and I was reminded that a lower score is only one good swing away. My ball shot between the trees and landed just to the right of the hole, short, but also very close to the green. It took two putts from there, one from off the green a few yards and one gimme from about a foot to earn my par. Mike ended up with a putt for par from much closer than my first one, but he left it short. Carl got into even more trouble, so he did not come close to a par either. I had won. I had held them off. It was a nice victory. Carl did not talk much when it was over. I think he was upset, and that he really wanted bragging rights over a coach. I was glad that I was able to disappoint him.
Okay, one day I felt a pang of regret for helping with the golf team, but only one day and really only for a moment or two. Don had to be somewhere else for his Wishon club-fitting business, so I was the only coach at practice. As I was driving off in a cart to go over to the makeshift practice area behind hole #7, kids walking ahead of me with bags over their shoulders, I saw Bruce and C.J. heading off to go play.
My sister and my brother and I quote movies often, so a quote came to mind. It comes from the third Indiana Jones movie where someone chooses the wrong Cup of the Covenant at the end of the movie. He takes a drink from the Cup, shrivels up, his face contorting and aging by the second, and then he dies in a poof of dried up skin and bones, the blonde German helping lady shrieking and screaming the entire time. Then the knight who watches over the Cups says, “He chose poorly.”
This is after he had told Indie and the group, “You must choose wisely.”
So, of course, my thought about myself as I saw Bruce and C.J. heading off to play as I was heading off with a bunch of teenagers was, “He chose poorly.”
My mom, my dad, and my nephew Daryl are here this weekend for James‘s Confirmation. Sadly, this is also the weekend for the annual Robbie Ward Memorial Tournament. Bruce had asked me to play via e-mail earlier this week, but I declined, of course, stating I had company this weekend and I could not possibly play.
During a game of Sequence tonight, though, I half-jokingly, half-seriously asked my dad if he would want to go with me to the golf course for five hours tomorrow. I would not be able to play with Bruce and C.J. probably, but I would be able to get on somebody’s team.
It was dropped. One look and a comment from Belinda and I knew I had no hope, no chance. I have a ton of stuff to do at my school anyway and... my family is here! Priorities, Pat. Will I ever get to go play golf again without stress or guilt? Heck, will I even be able to go play golf even with stress and guilt? I have not played near enough since the weather has gotten nicer. Arrgghhh! As I write this, I am still secretly hoping that it might happen tomorrow. Can I still pull it off? No. Forget it. Next year, it should be a done deal, though.
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