Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Fore

I don't think I've ever heard anyone who golfs describe themselves as "good" golfer. Every golfer I ever knew moaned about their short game or their tendency to slice or how that last shot off the 18th tee could have been better. I have a solution: play with my daughters and me. We will make you look like both Tiger Woods and Arnold Palmer on their very best days in comparison.

My father, a very experienced and dedicated golfer of many years, offered to take Thing 1, Thing 2 and I out for 9 holes last night; a very generous offer, considering it would take years off his life and scar his very soul.
Thing 2 has had some lessons, but Thing 1 and I are very new to the sport. All three of us have a LOT to learn.


While my dad hit the ball like it was supposed to be hit, and went more or less straight towards it's target, the rest of us flailed away like electrocuted monkeys, occasionally making contact with the ball, sometimes making it go towards the hole and even sometimes both at the same time. I made one memorable shot at one point where the ball went exactly 90° to the direction in which I meant for it to go...how does that even happen?.....it was like physics took a holiday. Thing 1 took out a few divots out of the ground that were the size of your head. Thing 2 managed to put a ball exactly and precisely in the middle of an enormous puddle.....she couldn't have done it again if her life depended on it.

And although everyone kept their sense of humor and no one (including dad) got too frustrated, I'm sure golfing with us was a memoral departure from his usual golfing experience.

Things My Father Does Not Usually Hear From His Golfing Partners:

  • "It's my turn to play the pink ball, you played it last time."
  • "Wait a second, I broke a nail."
  • "My pants are falling down"
  • "I lost my hairband"
  • "Which way is the hole?"
  • "Oh, look! A baby duck!"
  • "I want a golf cart for Christmas!"

Without a doubt, the highlight for the girls was driving the golf carts. Driving a golf cart is all kinds of fun, even when you are used to driving an actual car. Something about a golf cart lends itself to hilarity, and the ever present possibility of driving it into a pond or tipping it over gives the whole thing an air of slightly contained hysteria.

Despite our lack of prowess, I think we all enjoyed ourselves. I'm pretty sure my dad is almost over it.

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