A Good Day Unexpected

This was not how I envisioned it. I began the long walk to the clubhouse, the start of my golf season finished after but 2 holes. My back was just not ready for the twists and turns of misfortune that the course would inflict upon me. Yet there was no sadness or frustration. It was sunny, with a slight breeze, and I knew that the next several hours would not be filled with the internal huffing and puffing that has become my golf game.

As Dennis and Elizabeth played on, I told them I would catch up later in the round. And so, on this early April day, I would spend the next 30 minutes going up and down very significant hills, with the purpose of advising those in charge that I had been defeated but 10 strokes (2 bogeys for anyone keeping score) in, and would kindly like a refund for the monies I had paid in anticipation of hours of mis-hit shots. As I passed group after group, hacking away and chasing mistakes left and right, short and long, I felt a little sadness. Not for me, but for them. For every triumph, I knew they had many tragedies ahead.

And so I eventually made it back from where I began. I was somewhat fatigued, as the pain was pretty persistent, at least on the uphill climbs. When I told those in charge of my travails, and showed them the soft brace around my waist to verify my tale, they reimbursed me every penny and wished me better days ahead. This was turning out better than expected.

I stopped to buy lunch for my group but realized I did not have the mental or physical fortitude to carry myself as well as sandwiches of tuna, ham and turkey (the only 3 options) along with several beverages back to where Dennis and Elizabeth would now be. I told my story to the person standing with the starter, and soon I was being carted back, food in hand, to rejoin the others.

And so, for the next 3 hours, I had a delightful time. I ate my lunch, watched and laughed as Elizabeth and Dennis tried and tried again to conquer the beast. There were wonderful moments, as Dennis narrowly missed a hole in one, and Elizabeth had a birdie putt lip out of the hole. And I could be a cheerleader, coach, friend and humorist, without being much less than that because I was brooding over how the gods had deserted me.

I realize this euphoria will not last. When I call the course to set the tee times for next week for the entourage, my name will not be among them. It will be a while before I wander out to the course again. And when I do return, it will be to measure myself up against the image of the golfer that I am not and will likely never be. But at least for one day, I can honestly say that I had fun. You know, after the second hole, I never hit one bad shot the rest of the day. It was, in many ways, the perfect round of golf.