Home On The Range

Another one of my friends came out of the golf closet today. I know it was hard for her to give up her complete identity as a soccer player, but she's going to be an awesome golfer. It's so fun to go to a pro shop and range with someone who's never golfed. Why is it they always head straight to the left handed clubs?

While she was testing out a few different models with the kind young man who got stuck with us, I snuck away to the range and swung all my clubs for the first time since my surgery. I was supposed to wait until the end of next week, but the pro shop smell was making me crazy. Everyone was doing it. What was I supposed to do?

The clubs felt great and my swing was back in no time. I even pulled out the giant Cobra M Speed Driver and let 'er rip. I'm looking forward to heading out this week for a full round of normal golf, no more of this chipping and putting stuff.

When I wandered back to the sales area, I found my pal crushing the ball with a hybrid 3. It's going to be a great summer after all.

My Independence Day...Coming Out as a Golfer

This is my first 4th of July holiday without my mom and though I’ve tried to keep away from such a personal and sad topic, the day is filled with memories of her.

Most of my friends miss their lost friends and relatives the most during the “holidays”. But for me, the 4th of July is that holiday. She had decided upon retirement to live in glorious Taos, NM, but could never give up her home and friends in Texas. So, as she aged, I made the pilgrimage twice a year to help her move back and forth between her two homes. Every 4th of July I would fly from Oregon to Dallas/Fort Worth, spend a few days working around the house and packing her personal belongings and pets into an oversized van. Then we would make the 13 hour drive together, I’d spend a few days in New Mexico, and fly back to Oregon. It was totally insane, but you do these things for people you love.

It was on one of those trips that my golf obsession was ignited. Having grown up three blocks from a country club that we belonged to, but never once golfed at, I had to work up my courage to tell her I’d been golfing…twice. I wasn’t sure she would understand. Would she still love me? She would have to realize that she was never going to get pictures of a thriving garden of layered perennials, colors perfectly matched as if they’d been picked off the Behr color chart. Never would she receive a handmade Christmas present made of wood, polished by hand as the ancient people did. No more weekends untangling fishing reels, I needed to let her know those dreams were gone.

“Mom, I know you’re going to think this is totally stupid, but I think I’ve taken up golf. I know it’s not what you expected of me. I know it’s a waste of money and I promise I’ll never act like one in front of your friends….”
“Oh honey, I think that’s wonderful. You can play golf for a lifetime and it’s just such a classy and wonderful sport.”

She then went on to tell me statistics on all the male golfers on tour at the time. She was a big Tiger fan and I heard about him and his childhood for the next fifteen minutes. The story was broken with her suddenly looking up at me and asking, “Do you have clubs?”

We were off to Bass Pro Shops where all beginners who are shy about golfing should start. You can walk boldly in and pretend you are there for bait or a new pair of shorts. You could even be buying a shotgun for your anniversary.

Mom bought me my first set of clubs. She insisted on it. I got a lot of play time out of that $139 set and passed them on to another closet golfer when I made the upgrade.

Last 4th of July I played a round in Taos by myself.

Mom was going to go and ride in the cart, but it was hot and she didn’t feel up to it. I played one of my best rounds ever in that dry, high desert air. She would have been proud seeing the ball sail down the middle of the fairways. She would have laughed heartily at the ones that landed in the sagebrush.

If we had known it was our last 4th of July together, she would have insisted I go play golf and would have said, “another walk spoiled”, as she sat on the couch and read with golf lightly playing in the background. Thanks Mom, for feeding my obsession and soul, and always surprising me with unwavering love.

Happy 4th of July everyone, I’m off to the golf course.

I'm Ready to You Know...Putt

As the nurse opened the door and called my name across the waiting room, I confidently stood up and walked boldly towards her, hiding any small winces of pain with a broad smile and thumbs up. Certainly I’d be cleared to golf if I could wind my way through the maze of women and babies with such a strong gait.

“Everything is looking really good; you’re healing very fast, but take it easy going back to work, any other questions?” My doctor looked at me with a smile that suggested she was ready for the first question her patients always asked.
“When can I golf?” I responded. Again, the broad smile.
Looking slightly confused, head tilting from side to side, she responded, “I guess you can start putting now, but I’d be seriously concerned about the swinging of a golf club.” That suspicious smile was back, followed by, “Don’t you have any other questions you’d like to ask.” She drew the “other” out for three or four counts while I slowly realized what she was talking about.
“Oh yeah, you want to know if I want to know about you know,” I said nodding my head in perfect rhythm with hers.
“Most women do”, she replied.

Not this woman. There’s plenty of time for “you know”, but only so many perfect golf days. For now I will save the “you know” for Victoria, my somewhat clunky Yes putter. She’ll be my partner in healing over the next two weeks as I am finally forced to work on my putting. Which is just what the doctor ordered.