Monday, May 21, 2007
Do you know why they call it "golf"?
Because every other four letter word was taken.
'Tis true. I graduated from a lifetime of putt-putt this week and was taken to my first driving range with honest-to-God clubs. The Betrothed even bought me a sweet golf glove. It makes me look prettyhard core, actually.
The range is set up all electronic-like. They issue you a little swipey card with your name on it. To get your bucket-o-balls, you put in your card, and the machine programs each ball you get with your name on it. When you whack your balls (insert obvious joke) onto the driving range, it will, ideally, fall into a pit -- which recognizes your named ball -- and assigns you points. All well and good unless you suck a great deal, which was my biggest problem.
Actually, my biggest problem was more about my obsession with attaining points, rather than perfecting my heinous golfing skill set. Ball goes in a hole on the far right of the course because I have a "wicked slice" -- points awarded, all is well. Ball rolls four feet from the tee, but my knees were bent and I didn't bend my wrists, golf-clap but pointless.
To add insult to injury, I, a right hander, have always handled my sports equipment, inexplicably, on the left (and Wow!, did that piss off my dad growing up. ). The Betrothed's family, who exited the womb with a set of clubs and the know-how to use words like "birdie" and "handicap", were perplexed to aid me "on the left".
On the upside, the joint has a full menu and a bar.
'Tis true. I graduated from a lifetime of putt-putt this week and was taken to my first driving range with honest-to-God clubs. The Betrothed even bought me a sweet golf glove. It makes me look prettyhard core, actually.
The range is set up all electronic-like. They issue you a little swipey card with your name on it. To get your bucket-o-balls, you put in your card, and the machine programs each ball you get with your name on it. When you whack your balls (insert obvious joke) onto the driving range, it will, ideally, fall into a pit -- which recognizes your named ball -- and assigns you points. All well and good unless you suck a great deal, which was my biggest problem.
Actually, my biggest problem was more about my obsession with attaining points, rather than perfecting my heinous golfing skill set. Ball goes in a hole on the far right of the course because I have a "wicked slice" -- points awarded, all is well. Ball rolls four feet from the tee, but my knees were bent and I didn't bend my wrists, golf-clap but pointless.
To add insult to injury, I, a right hander, have always handled my sports equipment, inexplicably, on the left (and Wow!, did that piss off my dad growing up. ). The Betrothed's family, who exited the womb with a set of clubs and the know-how to use words like "birdie" and "handicap", were perplexed to aid me "on the left".
On the upside, the joint has a full menu and a bar.
# posted by Cathy @ 12:45:00 PM 
