I love to golf. And simultaneously, I hate to golf. I know that I am not the first person to feel this way. I would think even that Tiger Woods, after putting on his Nikes, getting out of his Buick, and downing a Gatorade, might even tell you he hates golf. Ask him after this weekend. I heard it was bad.
I went out golfing with The Groom yesterday. I didn't realize it when I told him I would, but the temp outside was soaring to a very sweaty sunburny 102 degrees. I might add, at 115% humidity. Thats right, the humidity here in Oklahoma goes above the call. If our humidity was on a little league team, it'd get Most Improved every year.
We teed off on the first hole, and I actually hit a far tee shot. Into the woods. By woods I mean about 8 trees to the side of the fairway. Really not the woods, but it's trying hard. From there on, it was a brutal day. I lost more balls than a Persain army tryna teabag Sparta. I played horribly. On the 8th hole, I hit 5 straight balls into a lake. I hate that hole. And everytime I hit a ball, The Groom would say... "That's the water." Douche.
The greatest point of the day would be when I hit a beautiful chip shot on the 10th. The Groom said, "I want you to know, you hit that exactly where you were aiming." And I was thrilled! I said Thanks! And he said, "Travis, you weren't aiming anywhere at the hole." Apparently, I suck so bad, I compensate for it by aiming completely away from the hole. So when I hit a great shot, it still sucks. Thats retarded.
At one point I hit my ball and this...
Went further than my ball. Of course The Groom had a good laugh about that. It's not that I'm especially horrible, because I know people that are. It's just that I'm terribly inconsistent. If I take a warm up shot, the warm up shot is always perfect. But the actual shot will wind up making me get poison ivy, or using my "hand wedge" to get in better position.
This is the scorecard at the final end of it all...
That's right. That's a 116 for me. For all you non golfers out there, the amount that should have been was 70. That means it took me 116 strokes to do what it should have taken 70. That's 46 strokes more. Or embarassing. You could just call it that.
For what it's worth, the entire back 9 was temporary greens, and it was impossible to putt. But I suck at that too. It was also 102 outside, and the course was covered in rocks. The lake being up had destroyed 60 percent of the greens and fairways, and I'm pretty sure I had a stroke on the 4th. And the 16th. On the 17th, the green had been moved up so close to the tee box, that as a joke, I teed off with my putter. I parred that hole. My tee shot landed about 4 feet from the cup, I mess you not. It was my only par of the day.
All in all, a great Sunday.
But geez I hate golf...
Monday, June 22, 2009
Golf in 102 Degrees...
I'm a husband, father, son, brother, and friend. I teach English and Literature to the youth of today. I love Jesus and my mother, and I'll gladly introduce you to both. I love photography and writing. Duke basketball keeps me occupied for half the year, and hating Chapel Hill keeps me busy the other half. As you can tell from the title of my blog, I like stories. I'm a big guy with a big voice, trying desperately to be heard by someone before The Lord takes me home. Let's be best friends.