The Optimistic Golfer?!

"I always like to see a person stand up to a golf ball as though he were perfectly at home in its presence."
- Bobby Jones

I've come to the conclusion that perhaps the tone of this blog has become a bit too cynical. (Maybe the fact that the word "Masochistic" is in title was my first clue.) Either way, I've decided to take a different approach for this week's entry. Rather than dwell on my numerous mistakes and frustrations with the game of golf, I will instead share a nice little victory I had on the course last week.

The day started out horribly. (Okay, that's an ominous beginning but it will turn positive I swear.) After a series of very poor golf shots, I proceeded to unleash a deluge of F-bombs. And I mean deluge. I had made the decision then and there that I would no longer play golf. I had given up. I was going to finish my round and hang it up for good.

Then a miracle happened. In my euphoric haze of indifference, I managed to play much better. Most notably was on the Par 4 6th hole. A short hole that's about 300 yards or so with a tiny little lake in front of the tee. I hit a 5-iron off the tee and it landed smack dab in the middle of the fairway. However, I was unfazed because I wasn't planning to play golf anymore.

I then went on to hit my second shot. A lob wedge from about 75 yards out. Again, since I no longer cared, I ended up hitting an incredible shot that landed about 12 feet from the hole. I'll admit that at this point, I was more than a little enthusiastic. (I mean, even though I didn't really care anymore.) I did scream the word, "Finally,"as a result of reaching the green in 2 shots on that hole for the first time all season.

When I saw how close my shot was, I conceded that a birdie would be nice but I didn't need a birdie to feel good. I'd be very happy with a par. (Yeah, right)

I took my time, studied the green from every conceivable angle, and calmly sank my 12-foot birdie putt. (There may have been a fist-pumping motion at this point on my part.)

Needless to say, that was not my last round of golf. Perhaps the golf gods threw me a bone for fear of losing one of their loyal and devoted worshippers. Or maybe I'm just getting better. Whatever the case may be, perhaps I will see better results from now on if I allow myself to celebrate the victories just as much as I flagellate myself for all of the mistakes.