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| From left to right: Shawn, Bob and me |
A friend, Shawn, was driving in from central Nebraska to spend the day with a group of friends I’ve had since high school. We pulled up to the golf course close to noon and the rain began to fall. Maybe I was going to be saved by the bell.
I had not golfed in five years.
The thing is, I tend to pull muscles rather easily and I could imagine myself taking a mighty rip at the ball on the first tee and going down in a heap.
As a kid, a friend and I once dueled with toy lightsabers. I ducked out of the way and something happened to my neck – the pain was so bad my friend’s mom had to call an ambulance. They put me in a neck brace and I had to wear it for several weeks.
I once pulled a muscle playing Wii tennis.
I even pulled a muscle sneezing one time.
So on Saturday, it wasn’t too farfetched to think I could end up in the ER before the end of the day. My goal wasn’t to shoot under 80. Or to beat my friends. Or even to make perfect contact with the ball at least once. I just wanted to avoid the ER.
The rain continued when we teed up on hole No. 1. I took out a five-iron on the 253-yard hole – not because I thought I could hit one that far, but because the smaller first cut would allow me to get back into the swing of things and hitting a five iron would allow me avoid the parking lot on the left since I tend to slice heavily with my woods and therefore have to aim directly at the cars.
I lined up, wiggled my club as I addressed the ball (because that’s what golfers do), and took a swing. The ball went relatively straight and it went further than I would have imagined.
Nothing to it.
My second shot – a pitching wedge – went way over the green and hit a fence. That felt more familiar. My third shot landed on the green and rolled off. Oh yeah, I have a terrible short game – it was all coming back to me now. I don’t remember what I shot on that hole, but I figured it couldn’t get any worse when I teed up on the 141-yard, No. 2 hole.
I hit a six iron into the forest behind the green. My next shot went over the green. Noticing a pattern yet? My next shot missed the green again. I was on in four, and then disaster struck. I six putted and took a ten on a par three.
Right on cue, the heavens opened up and poured on us.
“We’re making a great memory,” I told Shawn. He didn’t seem all that convinced.
Shawn played well the rest of the round. Bob, who is so good that he will probably earn his PGA certification soon, played well too – given the conditions. Another friend, John, rode along with us, but he didn’t play because he has a bad shoulder. We’re all in our mid-to-late forties and our age is showing.
After we finished nine, we made the turn and played again.
Why not?
I improved the second time around. Of course, better is relative. I ended up shooting 100 for 18 holes. But it was a blast anyway. The rain kept most people away, so we had the course to ourselves on the back nine. That allowed us to stop and snap some photos. And we just took our time.
I met my goal – no ER for me. About an hour after we finished, my back got so stiff I could barely move but by the end of the night, I felt pretty good.
And I wasn’t even sore on Sunday.
