I did not realize how much I missed golf. I did not practice before I called Bruce to see if he could meet me. C.J. was out of town. I was afraid to practice and go play again. It was the “not knowing” that was scary. What kind of shape would my game be in? How well would I do? Shouldn’t it be better? Would it be better? Certainly golf without a brain tumor would be better than golf with a brain tumor, right? It turned out that...
my fears were not warranted.
I started out with a par, and I ended with a par. We took mulligans off the first tee only, a tradition, but always only if we feel we need to. We both did. I pulled my first post-surgery tee shot, but my second shot was better, just short and right. I chipped on, leaving myself a downhill putt from about twelve feet. Bruce’s ball rolled past the hole, water streaming off of it like a wild spiky mohawk. It left a trail, but we both agreed that he should not follow that same line back to the hole since his next putt was uphill. He nailed that putt, much longer than mine, and the design on the green from his putts rolling through the dew looked like a "bow and arrow" bow. When my putt dropped, everything felt right, back to normal. We had both started with pars. It was a nice feeling. So, picture this for the rest of the round.
Picture two friends who had not played together for a long time playing together once more...
8-3-11
Picture a partly cloudy day where the sun shone just enough to keep it warm in the morning, but not so much that the clouds were able to balance things out and keep it cool too.
Picture wet fairways and wet greens. The greens for the first three holes had not been mowed yet, and the dew showed us the lines as our balls rolled along. Picture the head pro, a group that played through, and some others ask how I was doing with genuine concern when they saw me again for the first time. More than anything, though, picture someone playing golf who thought he might not ever play again, and see him smiling both inside and out. See his 44 be outmatched by Bruce’s 38, and know that things went right back to normal as far as that was concerned. See him tell Bruce more than a couple of times how happy he was to be back, to be out on the golf course again, to be fortunate enough to survive a tumor and a craniotomy and get out there to give it a go.
Bruce won the game we played, the Reverse Handicap Game, by a score of 59.5 to 21.5. The half points came on the last hole where we both earned pars and split the points.
my fears were not warranted.
I started out with a par, and I ended with a par. We took mulligans off the first tee only, a tradition, but always only if we feel we need to. We both did. I pulled my first post-surgery tee shot, but my second shot was better, just short and right. I chipped on, leaving myself a downhill putt from about twelve feet. Bruce’s ball rolled past the hole, water streaming off of it like a wild spiky mohawk. It left a trail, but we both agreed that he should not follow that same line back to the hole since his next putt was uphill. He nailed that putt, much longer than mine, and the design on the green from his putts rolling through the dew looked like a "bow and arrow" bow. When my putt dropped, everything felt right, back to normal. We had both started with pars. It was a nice feeling. So, picture this for the rest of the round.
Picture two friends who had not played together for a long time playing together once more...
8-3-11
Picture a partly cloudy day where the sun shone just enough to keep it warm in the morning, but not so much that the clouds were able to balance things out and keep it cool too.
Picture wet fairways and wet greens. The greens for the first three holes had not been mowed yet, and the dew showed us the lines as our balls rolled along. Picture the head pro, a group that played through, and some others ask how I was doing with genuine concern when they saw me again for the first time. More than anything, though, picture someone playing golf who thought he might not ever play again, and see him smiling both inside and out. See his 44 be outmatched by Bruce’s 38, and know that things went right back to normal as far as that was concerned. See him tell Bruce more than a couple of times how happy he was to be back, to be out on the golf course again, to be fortunate enough to survive a tumor and a craniotomy and get out there to give it a go.
Bruce won the game we played, the Reverse Handicap Game, by a score of 59.5 to 21.5. The half points came on the last hole where we both earned pars and split the points.
Until next time...
1 comment:
Life is good. Pat is back on the golf course!
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