This was my fourth, and possibly last, week smacking that little white sucker all over freaking place, then back again. Plain and simple, I stink at golf. Maybe I’d be a little better if I tried harder, but I don’t believe I have the desire (or the skill?).
Let’s weigh it out, shall we?
- Breathtaking mornings spent outside walking hills
- 3 hours knocking around with two very close friends talking all kinds of crazy s#$t
- Swearing slides right by
- Bar Cheese on Ritz Crackers at the Halfway House plus hot coffee ALWAYS equals a breakfast of champions
- Using my clubs to practice the baton twirling learned at summer camp when young
- Working on the tan albeit causing strange lines
- Easy to say, “Hole over! Give me a 10.”
- Cute caddies
- Don’t really care for the sport
- Friends give me sad puppy dog eyes when I say “but I just don’t wanna.”
- Sucks to suck
- Clothes are not attractive, AND no one looks really good in them except “Cookie” who’s a size 2 and wears short skirts (she looks good)
- And don’t get me started on the U-G-L-Y SHOES
- Takes up way too much time
- Diminishes my math skills. I can subtract 5 from 9 yet “How many more holes?”
- Makes people crabby and whine or maybe just me
- IT IS NOT EXERCISE
- Elicits an unfocused feeling when in reality focus is just fine
- Not a beach but too much water and sand
- Balls act as water seeking missiles, see above
Did I already mention I totally suck?
And if you love this sport, more power to you. I do not share your view.