The good things about golf: The gorgeous green, the lovely walk, my delightful companions. The bad thing about golf: Golf.
If you’re wondering why the paucity of posts, it’s because I’m at the tail-end of my big move. My last big move was in 1999. Back then, I had a toddler and was 7 months pregnant, with non-stop morning sickness . . . and I wasn’t as tired as I am this time. That’s what age does to you, I guess.
Fortunately, one of my Little Bookworms came out with a friend to help. The two of them have been absolute dynamos. I honestly don’t know how I would have managed without them, especially because they have the taste I lack when it comes to decorating. I’m better with words than I am with objects, so decorating quickly overwhelms me.
It was because of my guests that we went yesterday to beautiful Middleton Place. Today, we went golfing. My Little Bookworm and her friend have never golfed before, nor have I. We went with an experienced golfer who was very patient and got quite a good laugh out of our struggles.
I never knew it would be so incredibly difficult to hit a ball with a golf club. After all, at least 45 years ago, I played a mean game of mini-golf. Surely this couldn’t be that different.
Oh, but it was. Very, very different. Half the time, my swings just caught air. A quarter of the time, my swings caught turf, which caused me no end of agony because it seems to me inherently wrong to damage grass.
When my club and my ball made contact, I managed to scootch the ball across the grass, sort of like a ground ball in baseball. I currently seem incapable of getting loft or air on the balls. Again, that has to do with both coordination and an almost pathological fear of damaging the grass.
By the end of nine holes, my dominant arm was extremely tired, partly because of my incredibly tense swings and partly because the times I did catch grass I jarred it rather badly.
I have to say that, after one game, golf qua golf doesn’t blow me away. I’ve always found ball-based sports dull. I also do not like sports with lots of equipment, which I find irritating and burdensome. Give me martial arts or swimming any day, both of which require minimal equipment. Of course, martial arts trashed my joints, so maybe it wasn’t the best sport for me to fall in love with.
Of course, it’s entirely possible that I just didn’t enjoy the game because I’m exceptionally awful at it. It’s seldom fun to do things badly. But there are other activities that I’ve enjoyed no matter my personal awfulness. Martial arts clicked for me right away. I love dancing, even though I can’t dance. And the one time I went water skiing I had a great deal of fun even though I failed badly at that too.
Despite finding golf itself a less than thrilling pursuit, I had a wonderful time. The green (fairway?) was gorgeous, the weather was lovely, and my companions were delightful. If I simply ignore the game, which strikes me as meh, it’s a lovely way to spend time with friends and to get fresh air, light exercise, and sunshine.
I’m going to have a lesson in a few days and might revise my thought about the game. I might get all excited about the very real skill needed to hit a ball with a stick. (On that point, I find baseball equally boring, except quite possibly more boring because I’ve always been trapped watching. With this game, at least I get to play.) Or I might always find it a boring and pointless thing to do while enjoying nature and good companionship. Sometimes you just suck up the bad with the good.
I will keep you posted on my golf escapades.
Tomorrow will be the last of the low blogging days, for it’s the last full day with my Little Bookworm and her friend. We’ll spend most of the day sightseeing. They head to the airport at 3 a.m. the following morning and life at long last resumes its normal pace.