In golf, unlike cricket, a 100 next to your name on the scorecard is not appreciated. Yet I’ve developed a love for the game. And it is not because I am aspiring to become the next Tiger Woods (after all that fame, fortune and women, who’d want to be in his shoes!). The only time that I prowl like a tiger is when my golf ball dribbles amongst the dense Bermuda grass. I call this act “prowling like a tiger” because I try to keep out of sight while hunting for something which has rolled barely a few feet away from the tee (as mentioned above). To keep my game simple, I stick to a basic philosophy of, “swing hard in case you hit it”. I guess it’s the same adage that Tiger’s enraged wife used when she attacked him with a 9 iron after learning of his infidelity.
Back in the days, I used to enjoy taking long walks in the woods. But doing that to search for a ball which has sliced off the driver is another thing altogether. Since we are on the subject of slicing a golf ball, the only positive thing resulting from that bad shot is that (a) I’ve managed to connect the club with the ball (b) They say walking in the woods is good for health. A miss hit in the opposite direction of a slice is called a “hook”. I manage to pull that off with some regularity if I really concentrate hard and try to hit the ball straight. But after seeing a golf t-shirt with the slogan, “are you a slicer or a hooker”, I thought I’d call all my miss hits “slices”. The person who said, “I’m not saying my golf game went bad, but if I grew tomatoes, they’d come up sliced” would have been in my current position.
But I digress. I decided to improve my game because, with all due respect, golf isn’t really a sport. It’s a game. An expensive form of playing marbles (something that I sucked at as a kid). I’d trade the odd sore back for all those pulled hamstrings and twisted ankles that I’ve suffered over the years by playing real sports like soccer or tennis. Also, while playing those sports, carrying a can of beer on the greens would have been frowned upon. Golf also gives me an opportunity to interact with matured people. And by matured, I mean folks for who words like “hole in one” does not generate a snigger or elbow poking. And I guess drinking and driving is only acceptable when it is restricted to a golf cart or golf swing.
A couple of colleagues invited me to play in a charity golf tournament (yeah I know it sounds fancy). They must have been short on volunteers to actually invite me. The only charity that I expected was that they be discrete with their sneering and chuckling while I played. They did the needful and yet I felt forlorn. Someone once said that “while playing golf today I hit two good balls. I stepped on a rake”. I’m sure that it would not have been as painful as my hurting ego.
Now back to the part where I’ve been trying to improve my game. Lately, I’ve been frequenting the driving range to practice. For the past three months the people who practice around me have been giving me driving tips (sometimes) and sympathetic looks (mostly). The question that I’m asked multiple times at each session is, “first time?” I don’t take this question as badly as most people think I might. My dates have been asking me the same question about my “kissing” for over a decade now. My answer is always the same: “I’m working on it”. I guess that is why someone said that “sex and golf are the two things you can enjoy even if you’re not good at them”.
- Chaitanya
11/09/11
