The game of golf was so-described by some wag back in 1904, and, if you’ve played the game at all, there are certainly times when you’d agree.
And, then there are other occasions (maybe for just one well-struck shot) that the game can bring great joy to the player who believes, usually mistakenly, that he’s finally mastered it.
A couple of weeks ago, after my friend Terry DeArmond visited and we hit some driving range balls together, I decided to give another go at the frustrating game. My worn-out left hip and arthritic hands aren’t in agreement with my decision, but…f… them: you only live once, go for the gusto, miracles can happen, prayers can be answered, and, every now and then, you can surprise yourself.
Well, maybe.
For Father’s Day, Charlie bought me an annual driving range pass at our Sun City Mesquite “Conestoga Golf Club”. So, in the past week, I’ve been down there several times trying to resurrect my old golf swing. It is tough, because I haven’t played in 18-months and I’m older now, with the above-described physical issues.
Accordingly, I have a dozen swing thoughts on my mind when I address the ball, and my flexibility, once I attempt to swing, is pretty lame.
A nice surprise is that, with a little grip modification, my hands aren’t aching after a driving range session. This is very good news, because those arthritic joints were the reason that I gave up golf (and bowling) a year and a half ago.
More good news is that my neighbor, Al Howa, who is a scratch golfer, told me yesterday that he would be willing to give me some guidance at the range from time to time. I’m hoping that he can video my swing so that I might analyze it afterwards; usually, I can spot flaws and self-correct faster that way. That’s how I learned to bowl.
I don’t think that I will be venturing out onto a golf course proper in the near future. My standards are too high, I think, and I would probably induce a depression if I hastily attempted my comeback and laid a turd.
So, just hitting range balls and trying to groove a swing is enough for now. It will give me something to do, provide a form of exercise, and give me something to achieve.
I’m thinking that “shooting my age” is not out of the question, particularly since I don’t intend to play much golf from the championship tees. The White and Red tee boxes are put on a golf course for a reason (i.e. for old farts like me), and I’m not too proud to avail myself of them, like I do my AARP discount around town.
But, it would be cool if I could shoot 72 when I’m 72 years old.
That would be next year, if I live that long.
(And, maybe I can win the Powerball lottery, too.)
