"If I had cleared the trees and drove the green, it would’ve been a great shot."
Well, it happened again. Another atrocious round of golf suffered at the hands of my old nemesis, Van Cortlandt. Once again, it's not so much that I've played badly, it's the variety of ways in which I played badly that frustrated me.
The theme of last week seemed to be a complete and total inability to put the ball in play off of the tee. God I really hate that. I mean really. Just put the ball in play. I swear, if there was a hazard or an out of bounds area, I was guaranteed to hit it. If out of bounds was to the left, I would aim right and hit it left. If it was to the right, you bet your life that's where it went. Water hazard: Guess what...Wet ball. Sand: Get your beach towels and flip flops out because that's where we're going kids. Overall, very painful.
But in true masochistic fashion, I'm planning to go out there again today. You see, my thinking is that I'm simply not going out there enough. THAT'S why I haven't conquered it yet.
Did I mention I was demented?