Dear Jim: Let the games begin

Dear Jim:

Well game one of the season is over. I stepped up to the warm up range and belted out several shots that had one on looker threatening to have my amateur status revoked.

First hole, putting up close for par, second hole more of the same, a couple of bogeys, a par, another par…Now I suppose you think I’m going to say that the wheels fell off etc etc etc. No, that would be totally predictable and I’m not going to insult you with such an obvious breakdown description.

In truth, I played my usual crappy, shitty, ugly, freaking asshole, horrible, moronic, spastic, mind numbing, physically disgusting and embarrassing game with a thundering crescendo at the end that put three balls in the water on 17 Blue for an 8.  Did I mention that it is a par 3! Who knew?

Since last October 11 I have looked forward to this game and prepared for it 5-7 days per week, every week. The good thing about the mental anguish by hole 18 is that my back was aching so badly that I could justify the tears streaming down my face as pain related.

As soon as this sprained wrist heals itself and the golfers elbow on my left arm lets up along with the sharp pains moving down nerves in both legs, I’m going to get busy.

Now it isn’t all-bad. I now can isolate and describe exactly what goes wrong with each shot. Topped it….came up in the back swing. Slice …came over the top. Pop fly to the left woods…stayed on my back foot. Duck hook…came around. Hit it fat….hooded clubface, dug a trench..too steep. etc etc. Now the fact that no shot is predictable and each and every one is viewed with awe by the others in my foursome is not important. What is important is that at the end of the game I have incredible amounts of data to share and what could be more satisfying than that.

Granted, for now it is totally useless information. No one seems to care that I can describe exactly what went wrong in real time. In fact they ignore me and talk among themselves but by the end of the game I can talk for about two hours about my game. I’ve listened by the hour while good golfers in the 19^th hole say, “oh, on the 6th hole I went in with a wedge from 52 yards and had a nine foot putt for eagle. I never say, “you should save that story for someone who might give a damn”. I listen politely and wait for my turn.

Now with the extensive experience I have developed I’m going to be able to give a hole-by-hole description that will bring these single digit handicappers to their knees. I’m going to need a bigger table in the 19^th hole.

With my new found passion I need to organize more games. The last time anyone called me for a golf game was in 1986. In fact I have been noticing that I don’t get many calls for anything anymore. My caller ID is useless. When I look at the display I usually see “Sears Service Center” or some other unidentifiable number that leads me to, a Cruise I’ve just won, discussion.

I have concluded that most of my friends must have phones that only do incoming calls, and that applies to everything, not just golf.   It is puzzling because with all those people playing every day someone is phoning someone to organize the game. No?

Two years ago I arranged with a club member to play every Tuesday. We played the first game and I haven’t seen or spoken to him since. I know he is still a member because his name is in the book. I recently asked a friend who I know would be a good guy to play with if he wanted to arrange a regular game on Tuesday’s. He was very friendly about it but said he was busy Tuesdays… this year! I’m going to keep looking. There are all the “club within a club” gangs that play Wednesday and Fridays but no one will tell me who is in the group or how one gets accepted to play.

In the meantime my regular group has two out of three regular members who can tolerate playing with me and this will allow me to play two days a week.

Sally insists we play with couples on Sundays but no couple has asked us to play with them for 7 years. This means I will probably continue to play Sundays with her alone. You know how I love that as you and I have talked about it several times when you were talking me down from committing suicide. Turns out that Sally feels the same way so we will have to work harder at it. Last year I spent $4000 on guest fees bringing in strangers to make up a foursome but this year I’m going to concentrate on members.

I have a strategy to employ in case things don’t get better. It may involve a physical golf ending injury but I’m going to keep it a secret for now.

Stay tuned.

Bill Meder