Golf never hit home. Nor did I attempt a home run at it.
I recall my Dad commenting one Sunday after church as we were switching thru sports channels (a rare moment when I was 11/12?) that it wasn't worth watching golf much less "playing" with such time. GULP. And I completely understood. It was a definite bonding moment.
BUT comparing golf to all the other sports out there, it just never triggered that excitement and sense of adrenaline that allows you to leave your own body at times. It's hard to relate to- and lacks a rhyme. But correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't life itself sometimes feel like you're putting a square peg in a round hole- and just trying to make it work- if not "force the play" as we often call it on the field? ( Could also mean hogging the ball as well) But the irony is that as you get older, you realize you have to whittle it down or drill a bigger hole- or find yourself another piece of sheetrock or wood- cuz it's time to reinvent. If NOT give it at least a shot?
I recall my PE coach in junior high noting there were several college scholarships available for female golfers. And truthfully, there weren't as many "anythings" for ladies in those days, so it was meant to incite us to delve into some imaginary greens. YES we went to Putt-Putt as kids. YES I was bedazzled by the mini-course and the colorful golf balls made for great eye food, but it was more fun to fiddle with billiards and run around sprinklers or set up obstacle courses in the yard with buckets, brooms, and hula-hoops. Anything and everything took flight sooner than GOLF. Even kicking a ball against a wall or inventing our own version of cricket with my cousins made more sense.
SERIOUSLY? I think I was most offended and bothered by partaking of a sport with the Gentlemens Only Ladies Forbidden acronym. EVEN IF I sense that on the soccer field I'm often one of the few or only ladies on the pickup field, but GOLF? I just couldn't for many reasons, but I have always jealously figured that if you can afford that nice of landscaped grass, you sure as hell had better be dancing, frolicking, slipping and sliding on that thing. If not left with twister-tied hands and feet circling in queixadas and meia-luas across perfect greens, and NOT driving over it in a cart with ironed shorts and too much equipment. THAT in itself killed the entire idea of the game for me. SORRY.
And uh hi? Is there no sweat equity involved in this sport?!?!
CONFESSION: REALLY though the ball in the hole concept was never practical for my lack of self-control. AND from a distance, I eye-balled my success rate at that venture at 0.0000001% - and I probably would have broken too many windows to be THAT PATIENT or PRECISE anyways.
BUT on the sunny side, I have noted how such an alternative green effect has encouraged a whole other following of believers and dreamers in all its own on those furry green pitches. AND whatever offers another layer of consciousness and understanding of space in an outdoor environment, I support. So over the years, from certain work sidelines have noted a few previous bosses of mine taking on golf as a way to make deals happen. There's a certain social aspect to GOLF that apparently leads to deals, so even with my questionable right eyebrow have pondered if there might be the same sideline chatter feasible in our beautiful game. Definite food for thought. ( nudge, nudge)
While I've been torn between the purpose of my hands and feet-with fingers in this life still feeling far more nimble doing a lot more things than just my feet, and my hands being separate from both of those...
And so the story goes...with a bit of whittled reflection amidst quarantine... and feeling as though I'm a moody Hemingway cat sentenced to a pillory...with my round appendages contained in triangular holes. )o: MEANWHILE exclaiming my concern that the state of our game has become a semi geriatric sport cause it looks like we're not playing anytime soon. )o;
GOLF HAS NEVER BEEN AN OPTION BUT SELF-QUARANTINED CAT NAPS are now in full effect- & inventing CAT PILLORIES circa 2018.
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