Body Under Repair

On June 11th, I had a surgery that I’m told will keep me from playing golf for approximately six weeks. Six weeks. According to my calculations, that’s about one third of the best season for golf in Oregon. Given that it was a significant surgery, I had plenty of really good questions for my doctor.
“Are you sure we can’t wait until November?”
“What about chipping, okay, how about putting, a putter’s really not very heavy.”
“Do you golf? Is there something wrong with you?”

The best part of having surgery that week was the initial recovery time on the couch, feet propped up, a bottle of painkillers and the US Open. Twenty hours of golf later, even my golfing buddies could not understand how I could have possibly known exactly what color Tiger wore on each day, let alone what club he used on each hole. I grieved on Sunday afternoon as Tiger’s long birdie putt missed the mark on #18. Not so much because he lost, but because it was over. The endless commentary on the rough and the way on almost every hole the commentators would say, “I don’t understand why he’s chosen that club with the extreme left to right pitch of this diabolical green”, which was regularly followed by, “Wow, that shot worked out much better than I thought, he got just the right speed…”

This weekend is the other US Open. I don’t think they’ll play the full twenty hours of it, but I’ll take what I can get. Then, I’m going to wash my clubs again and cross off another day on the calendar.