Amateur Golfer, Professional Student

Last Friday, I played in a golf scramble with four great ladies, benefiting my high school athletic program (yeah, I know, because I was SUCH a great athlete in high school - LOL!!). I love the third Friday in July - that means its Sailor Classic Day. A day on the green, green grasses of Oakridge Golf Course in lieu of the regularly scheduled chores of laundry and cleaning. Who could ask for more?

Yep - you guessed it - me.

Remember all those lessons you got when you were little about appreciating the little things in life? Well, I obviously forgot every single one that day. Let me set the stage:

I have officially (and unofficially) played one nine-hole round of golf this summer. Yep - one and that was just two days before the tournament. Not exactly a practiced hand standing over that ball on Friday. If it tells you anything, I had to clean out my golf bag Thursday night FROM LAST YEAR'S SAILOR CLASSIC just to find my glove, tees and balls. A sad state of affairs...

So I'm thinking that maybe if I haven't played that much (laugh!) that I won't have any of the bad habits that come with playing a lot of golf (laugh! laugh!). It's possible...

We start via shotgun on hole number 11: My drive, not too bad, but woody. Fairway wood, pretty good. Nine iron, hits the flag pole...we make par. Could be worse right? On to twelve: Drive - so close to driving the green. Chip, not too bad. Putt, someone sinks it for birdie. Mom Pucker pulls out the Apple and Watermelon Pucker (quite tasty at 7:35 in the morning), and we're off to another hole. For you see, it is our tradition to do a shot of pucker for every birdie that we put on our card. Can't hurt right?

Another twelve holes go racing by, a few more shots of Pucker and we're already on number 7 ready to tee the ball. Our drives go splattering across the horizon. No one is in good shape, but we find we have a shot into the green albeit through the thick clover rough (think Tiger Woods hitting it out of the Old Scottish rough of St. Andrews...no really). Then the unthinkable happens...four out of five of us women put our golf balls in the water. Yep, can you imagine it? Painful (Que the Wide World of Sports theme and the announcer's words ringing ..."and the agony of defeat").

I know, you're wondering WHEN is she going to get to the point. Right now...

I was so mad at myself for not hitting that shot. Not just mad, down right tee'd off (get it...teed off??? LOL). I would actually describe myself as sulking or as my mom likes to say "pouting" and it lasted the remaining three holes. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I acted like THAT child in the grocery store - you know the one I'm talking about. I've played one round of golf this year and I expect to hit Tigress-like shots on a golf course that I play once year. Okay, saying that out loud (or on my keyboard anyway) makes it that much worse. I lost the whole point of being out there...to have fun...to be with friends and enjoy their company...to bask in the glow of the sunshine - oh yeah, it was raining - but you get the point. I forgot to just be thankful for a day on the course - a day to enjoy myself and leave the "small stuff" at home.

Who knew these little life lessons could be found chasing a little white ball into a little black hole?

So, to close, I have learned a few valuable things. One, making fun of yourself is far better therapy than paying a shrink to do it for you. Two, never hit your fairway wood out of the rough on hole number 7 because the results stink...I mean really stink. And three, never, ever take yourself so seriously on a golf course that the Golf Gods have to come down from the sky and bite you in the a@#!