13 Over Par

Well, I finally ventured beyond the gentle confines of the Majestic Golf Land driving range and played my first round of golf on Easter Sunday. It wasn’t pretty but it was a ton of fun. And so for those of you who have mocked me for taking up the game -- and that’s pretty much everyone who reads this blog -- I offer you a hearty Bronx Cheer in return.

And just to irritate you even further, I want you to know that I’ve totally gone native with the golf thing: I bought an expensive putter, golf shoes and some very cute sweaters at Lacoste. So there.
‘
Since most of you haven’t played golf, or at least won’t admit to it, allow me to describe the inaugural experience:

First, contrary to that well-known Mark Twain quote describing golf as a good walk spoiled (which I admit I have used on occasion), it feels more like wandering off from a family picnic at the park and getting lost among the trees. On the one hand, you know you’re not far from civilization so you’re not too worried. On the other hand, you don’t know where you are and your only source of food is your Chapstick, and so you remain highly attuned to the fact that things could go bad very quickly.

And since I am a terrible golfer right now, certain things did indeed go bad very quickly. For example, since I’m very competitive and like to do things well, not only did I want to hit the ball perfectly, I also wanted to win the round. That is idiotic, and caused me to tighten up on my tee shots and hit most of them terribly. I lost one ball in the Los Angeles River and actually drove another ball onto an entirely different fairway. Quoting W.C. Fields, I shouted, “Nothing to see here!” to a pair of bewildered golfers and quickly tried to whack the ball back onto the right fairway. I also hit a tree, almost killed a squirrel and dropped the F-bomb at least three times. The latter is neither ladylike nor appropriate golf etiquette, so I’m going to have to clean up my act.

On the other hand, I was a putting fool, twice knocking balls into the hole from more than 20 feet out. I did a little war dance on the green and waved my putter around both times. This too is neither ladylike nor appropriate golf etiquette, so I’m going to have to cut that out as well.

I’m tempted to just tell you that I shot a 40 on a nine-hole round and let you murmur in awe. However, context is everything and I’ll just get ratted out anyway,  so I’ll confess that it was a nine-hole, par 27 pitch-and-putt course. I think the longest distance to any hole was less than 150 yards, a gap I still can’t cover consistently in one shot. It was hardly an auspicious start to my golf career. Though at least there is consensus that my golf shoes are fabulous and I did win by a stroke.

Comments

[Brian Nelson]

That's awesome. Now you just need some cigars and beer to complement the f-bombs on the course.

[Gary]

Chris! We must go duffing, er, I mean, golfing, soon!

- Gary