I have always thought the game of golf looked like a good time. I envisioned myself playing with a bunch of ladies, who also have no idea how to play, and laughing our way across the greens as we lose balls in ponds, woods and in people's lawns who live near the golf course. I've never done more than think about this scenario until yesterday, when I told Sam that I wanted to go golfing. He raised one eyebrow in an amused fashion and said, "You do, do you?"
Yes, I do. You're taking me.
"Woman, you're really testing our marriage, aren't you?"
So we went golfing, because my husband is awesome that way. Even though it'll most likely test his limits of patience and goodwill, he's willing to load up the clubs and take me to the local golf course. He also graciously rented a cart, which is pretty much against his religion, because he said it would be far too much for me to carry the clubs for 9 holes, and with a league coming soon we wouldn't make good enough time with me pushing a cart to keep out of their way. God bless that man. Although I was kind of thinking that walking would be good exercise.
I learned a whole lot about golf in just one game. First of all, it's nothing like the miniature version, which I rocked in my day. My day is long past, however. I can't mini golf any better than I can regular golf now. There are no fun obstacles on the course like there are at the mini places. No windmills or caves or waterfalls. Just well manicured lawn, trees, and a small pond. And woods. Lots of woods. We live in Pennsylvania, which literally means "Penn's woods." (Penn being William Penn. You're welcome for that history lesson.) I did make my own obstacle, just to make myself feel a bit more in my element. It took some incredible aim and careful planning, but I had a ball that was heading way off course ricochet off a tree branch and bounce right back onto the fairway where it belonged. That was an impressive move if I have to brag about it myself.
Also, putting is vastly different in real life than in miniature life. When I'm mini putting, I tend to really smack that ball to get it to where it needs to be, but when I tried that proven technique on the green I was quite shocked to find that the ball went almost further than when I tried driving it across the fairway to the hole. In other words, equality in putting doesn't exist. So there's that.
We'll ignore the fact that I called the whole game a practice round (which it was) and refused to keep score. I think the number of times I hit the ball on one hole probably equaled what most people golf an entire 9-hole game. Okay, maybe not, but I refused to keep score anyway. I also refused to follow rules. I made things up as I went. That ball I lost in the woods got an instant new drop and a start-over. (But that ball I lost in the woods was a great hit. I was so impressed with myself. Too bad it flew completely over the green, though.) If my ball was in the rough, I was not above kicking it back onto the shorter grass for a better chance of actually hitting the ball. And in the event that I missed the ball altogether, I deemed that a practice swing.
It didn't take me long to realize that golfing is a weird game. Kind of like a very large version of hide and seek. With a ball. We spent a lot of time driving that fun cart around looking for balls, and I realized that I'm not skilled at finding small white balls in grass. I didn't realize that was a skill until yesterday. I lack it. Probably because it has to do with sports and I lack any kind of ability when it comes to anything sports related.
But I did have fun. While my game could use some improvement, I think I may enjoy the improving of it. That is if my old and tired body can recover sufficiently to play another round. You guys, I'm so out of shape that my knees ache like the weather is changing and my arthritis is acting up. Aleve is good stuff for that. And I won't mention my sore arms, because that would just be embarrassing. But really, aside from sucking all the dignity right out of the game, I don't think I did too bad for a first time. Even Sam was pleasantly surprised at how unhorrific I was. I think he may actually be willing to take me out again some day.