Counting Every Stroke
Counting All of My Strokes
When hubby and I met in a Yahoo chat room called Golf, I kind of knew that golf would be a integral part of our relationship. Golf was good for a while, he was always just a little better than me, enough to make me try hard to score lower than he did. Back then, we counted every stroke.
When I was learning the game, I did a lot of reading about golf as a sport. It is an honest game. If you cheat, you lose your integrity with whoever you are playing with. I took golf up because I was in the plastics industry and everyone golfed and it was a good thing to have game in my pocket. A lot of deals are made on the golf course. You can make or break a deal by not counting every stroke. Shaving strokes off of your score might not only be hurting your game, it will hurt your image. Trust me, someone you are playing with is keeping an accurate count of your strokes.
So I learned the rules, and more importantly, golf etiquette.
One thing that has been a commonality during our golf relationship is that whenever one of us is golfing well, the other one is playing hard bad. Golf can be so freaking hard on my brain because I walk up to that ball, knowing full well that I can hit it, and that I can hit it well. However, the 90 degree 50 yard shot humbles me. If I'm not scoring well, I'm working doubly hard, emotionally and physically. And my brain keeps saying “what am I doing wrong?” which doesn’t do the game any good either.
But I keep duffing away.
Sometimes though, we did actually both play well enough to be competitive with each other. My hubby is sort of passive aggressive though. He usually always hits his ball first because the white tees are always behind the red tees. That also means I have a bit of an advantage yardage wise. So he will hit his shot and I exclaim “honey nice shot!” and he says “at least I didn’t hit it into the woods”.
Guess where my ball ends up?
Hint: where ever it is that he “mentions”. Now he knows dang well this is a mental game, and he knows dang well that he gets my goat.
But that’s golf! (I reckon I do it to him now and then too.)
Let’s fast forward to the present. Due to many grueling operations in the last 5 year and battling breast cancer and winning... I’ve lost my golf mojo. It is totally gone. I try so hard to block any negative thoughts from my brain when I address the ball, and for the most part there aren't any, so it surprises the heck out of me when I completely whiff (miss) the ball, or totally pull a Karen Shot (the 90 degree left shot). Now that my body doesn’t hurt anymore anywhere (except my hands and that’s a different blogstory) I just expect to get up and play golf!
Well after I hit double par on a hole, I just give up for that hole. But that isn’t counting all of my strokes. If I keep that up, that kind of grueling hard work golf on the following holes, I take off my glove and pull out my phone and start checking Facebook, playing Words With Friends, or if I have the camera along, I take some photos.
So now the competition is out of our game. (I like that, sort of.)
We rarely keep score. We play for “practice” or we’ll play best ball. I’m not sure I have the stamina to play 18 holes...wait, I did play 18 at Trump International. But since we don’t keep accurate count of our shots, I have no idea how my score was. I would venture to guess that 140 wouldn’t be out of the question.
Hubby keeps telling me I need a lesson, but after 20-30 years of playing, I don't need any more lessons. I'm not sure what I need. I'm working like hell to change my attitude about golf, but I just don't love it anymore.
PS: If you happen to be a PGA pro and reading this... do you recommend a lobotomy?