Golf is like a hot (but psycho) girlfriend ....

Golf is like a hot (but psycho) girlfriend ....

... you know ... things go great, you learn the lay of the land, your putting improves steadily, and you are able to know the courses turns and hazards ... and then "BAM!" nothing works right and you cannot explain why .... and just as suddenly it all works again ....

In recent years I cannot say I am a golfer. Due to a couple of injuries to my wrist and abs and shoulder I just have not been able to get out there much. I used to go fairly often. In high school I would get off of work at 330 or 4am and hit the course before it even opened, dropping off my green fee as I walked off the course. I even gofed the morning of my wedding with two of my groomsmen. I can remember the time I chipped in for par on the first hole and seriously considered heading home, since karma was simply not going to allow me to have another shot like that in the same day. In the late 90s I finally got to play 18 at the Nile.

Last year, after some time, I finally got in a round and a bucket of balls at a driving range.

I have old clubs, really old clubs. I have had to replace a few things over the years, but they look old as well as being old. Well ... I grabbed me a bucket of balls at my old favorite driving range and decided to see how it felt. A couple of shots in and I grabbed one of my trusty irons and take a swing off of a tee.

There is an odd jerking motion and a "ting!" sound ...

I look up.

The other three fellows there also look up.

I see the club head flying off in the distance, apparently travelling farther than the ball.

I am holding a stick. It is no longer truly a golf club. See, the club head snapped off. It didn't slide off. Judging by the jagged edge of metal it is clear that I will need to weld it back on. But, first, that assumes I have the club head in the first place. One of the other chaps is nice enough to waive to the other two to stop so that we can walk out and find my club head. Sure enough, about 60 or 70 yards out, there it is ...

It is odd to find one's self looking at a driving range from the angle I was looking. And, since the other blokes had been so kind, I did not dally. Oddly, no one from the driving range seemed to notice or care that two of us were out on the range itself.

A few weeks later I played nine holes and shot a decent round. It was good to get out there. I need to go again soon, if my shoulder is up to it ...