Projo Offbeat Blog

The golf gods are devious and cruel.

Last week I golfed for the first time this summer, and I played my usual mixed bag of snap hooks, chunked chip shots and underpowered or overpowered putts.

But then there were the bounces, the beautiful bounces. Two shots that were bound for the woods took magical hops and skipped like a happy-go-lucky schoolkid toward the hole.

All I could do was laugh.

It was as if the golf gods were saying, "We miss you, Jack. Come back."

Sure, they miss me. They miss torturing me.

Still, unlike so many other frustrated hackers, I hadn't sworn off golf. With young children, work, a long commute and lots of rainy weather, I just wasn't going out of my way to punish myself on the links this summer.

But when I got back out there last week, it wasn't long before I realized I missed it. Even before the lucky bounces, I was having a good time. It was a gorgeous summer day. I was hanging out with my brother-in-law, who's a great guy. And I did manage a couple of decent shots all on my own.

We both struggled a lot, but the golf gods saved their best shots for our last shots. On the final hole, the one where anyone in or near the clubhouse can witness your shortcomings, the golf gods granted us pars. As we walked into the clubhouse for a couple of beers, we could have been mistaken for a couple of golfers who actually knew what we were doing.

I won't be fooled again, though. I know that next time my shots will skip into the woods, that I'll knock a shot off the clubhouse window on the final hole.

And the golf gods will have a good laugh.

Or will they?

You know, you really should have seen the way my drive skipped toward the green on the second hole.

And that putt I made on the 9th hole...

 Tags  golf

---