A renewed love for the game...

This past weekend I fell in love again with my mistress. Her name is golf. She and I have been on the outs for a long time because my heart nor mind has really been in it. I have come really close to quitting altogether and walking away from the game I have grown to love.

With my work and travel commitment, I am only playing golf once a week. Go ahead and say waaaaaaaaaaaaah, poor thing, I deserve it. If I am lucky, I may get in a round during the week but I at least try to practice putting. I have stopped hitting balls during the week and only hit enough before my round to get loose. No more marathon range sessions for me. It was not only taking a toll on my body but also my game. I actually played worse when I practiced more. I know, I am weird.

Well, this past weekend stoked a fire that was slowly going out. I was coming off vacation and a complete disconnect from the real world. I played our club championship and set out to win my flight as I have done every year that I have played. I have never played in the same flight as I keep going up a flight every year.

I know a lot of the guys in my flight because they play with our rather large Sunday group and there are some serious golfers who take my money on a weekly basis. Every year that I have played, I have never had the lead going into Sunday. I have always been a few back and had to make up serious ground. I really like it that way because it keeps me sharp. It forces me to make smarter decisions and keeps me honest.

Things changed this year because I went out Saturday and missed 1 green but had 39, yes, 39 putts! You can guess my score. My tempo was the best it has ever been and I was throwing darts at flags but the hole looked about the size of what is left when you use a hole puncher. I either pulled putts or pushed them. No in between. All I could think of was the shit load of putts that I was missing and didn't even think about score. Hell, I didn't realize that I missed 1 green until I counted up the stats at the end of the round. Once I saw the amount of putts, the amount of greens and finally the score, I almost threw up.

I signed my card and walked into the clubhouse hanging my head. I shot an ok number but I was very disheartened. I knew that it should have been a stellar day but I Fracked it away. I had several buddies ask me how I did and I simply answered, "I suck at life". They knew it was a good round for some reason. Bastards.

Once all rounds were posted for my flight, I see that I have a 3 shot lead. Great, now I am really Fracked. I don't know how to act with the lead. I have never slept on a lead. What's the big Fracking deal anyway it's just your flight in the Club Championship not anything real. I am always the guy in second hearing from the other guys, "Al's the guy we have to worry about tomorrow". I didn't hear that this year.

Note: I am far from a good golfer but I can get out of a wet paper back with a wedge.

I get my tee time and go home to sit and think about the fact that I have the lead. Like I need anything more to cloud my brain.

I show up Sunday and find that my tee time has been pushed back an hour because they apparently did everything wrong on Saturday as far as setting tee times according to scores. Now I am at the course and I have an hour more to think about it. I stuck to my routine and just went out to putt. It has been super hot here lately so I didn't stay out too long and went back and forth into the shade.

Our Club Championship is played at two different courses. The main course that I live on and its sister course 8 miles away. This year they threw us a curve and played my course Saturday and the sister course Sunday. No biggie since I know about every square inch of either course. The only real caveat is that our sister course actually has some rough whereas my course really has none to speak of. Well, I meet the guy that scored my card on Saturday on the putting green and he tells me that the rough is really gnarly on the sister course. He tells me to play like I did Saturday and to beat their asses. I never thought of the rough issue and went to practice chipping green and buried balls in the rough to practice. That really came in handy because I missed a ton of fairways.

I finally get to start and I actually had first tee jitters. Haven't felt those in a long time. It was kinda nice. What do I do with my tee ball but push it right under some trees. Here we go douche, time to meltdown. I bogey the first hole and hang my head. I started feeling sorry for myself on the first hole and was ready to hand it over when I still had a two shot lead. I won't bore you with a hole by hole account since I have bored you already but that began the most frantic round I have had...ever! That first hole was also the first and last missed green of the day.

I have never been a score watcher or a competitor watcher but for some reason on this Sunday I was. I was so concerned with what 2nd place did that I couldn't concentrate on what I was doing. All I could do was hit a green and 3 putt from a mile away or 2 putt from 3 feet. I wanted to break and iron in half and dive on the sharp end.

It looked as though 2nd place was going to let me lose the tournament instead of him beating me. We went back and forth and we tied on the front side. Whew, I was back to my 3 shot cushion. I said to myself at the turn, "self, it's time to get your head out of your ass and play golf". I started the first few holes of the back side with boring golf. Tee shot, green, missed first putt, knee knocker second putt. WTF am I doing? I bogey 11 he pars then I bogey 12 and he pars. He sticks it close on 13 and birdies, and I make par. There goes the lead. Way to dig a hole retard.

We get to 14 which is a pretty long par 5 and I hit last. I let out some serious aggression on that ball and all that was missing was a pow. The other guys in the group go, "uh where did that come from?" I responded with, "it came from me being Fracking pissed". Little did I know this hole would be the change that shifted the advantage back to me. I had 265 out and thought about going for it. WTF not? Win it or lose it right here Phil. Be a champ or be a chump. I took the latter and was the chump and laid up to a sexy wedge yardage. The other guy laid up cause he was about 75 yds behind my tee ball. He gets over his 3rd shot and goes for the pin which is tucked pretty close to the edge of the green and dangerously close to some water. Nevertheless, his ball was clean when he found it. Oh wait, he didn't find it because it dumped it short and into the lake. I step up to my ball and said again to myself, "self, slam the door right here". I stick to about 5 feet. Missed birdie of course but he ends up make 7. Thanks for the 2 shots dude.

Next hole is a drivable par 4 slight downhill playing 315 from the tee. I know I can lay up but hell who does that? I wait for everyone else to hit and the green to clear. I said to myself yet again, "self, swing easy, good tempo and if you are short, you are short". Well, I flew the green right and can barely see my ball. Doom on me. I chip onto the green and of course miss putts. Nice bogey longball.

I par the 16th and he bogeys. I bogey the 17th and he pars. So we get to the tee on 18 which is a medium length par 5 and I decide to pound it out there to go for it in two. Did I mention that a majority of the other finished flights were amassed around 18 to watch us come in? I get a base knock out there pretty good and end up with 203 to the pin. He had about 260 and there was no way he was going for it so he set up a nice little 3rd shot of about 80yds. I wait what seems to be for an hour to fire at the pin. I love thinking about a tough shot for what seems to be an hour. Did I mention that I had to hit that simple little 203yd shot to a peninsula, two tiered green with a pin on the bottom? Routine shot. I went back and forth between clubs and thoughts. Do I hit 5 because I am pumped or 4h? Am I gonna pull a Phil and instead of, "get close" I say "oh no!" I also said, "don't pull a Tin Cup you fagola". After my hour wait, I stuck 5 iron to 5 feet. First time one of my shots got applause. It was awesome. I slammed my club back into the bag and said the most faggoty line ever. Straight out of Stallone or Ahnold movie. I said, "game over". Just to type that and read that gives me douche chills but I will admit that is what I said. No fist pump, nothing. Oh yeah, I missed the eagle putt.

For the record, I had two birdies in two rounds. One on the first hole and the second on the last hole. I missed two greens. One on Saturday, one on Sunday. I had a total of 79, yes, 79 putts for two days. I not only sucked at life, I sucked at putting.

I was spent not only physically from the heat but mentally from the golf. The one thing that I did come away with was a renewed love for the game and that thirst for competition. If I ever learn to putt, I will be dangerous. Good thing that will never happen.

I don't know why I wrote and posted all of this but I did. If you got through it all, thank you. If you didn't and want the short version...it's simply that I can't putt.