Par For The Course
Posted on June 8, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet
Recently I dusted off the golf clubs which have sat dormant for several years, to take part in a charity fundraiser at our local club. Just for old time sake I decided to walk to the club. When I was ten I made this walk every day of the summer, carrying three clubs under my arms … along with two egg salad sandwiches and a bottle of Coke. Back then, I had high expectations. Yesterday, heading to the course, I had no expectations and I am happy to report that I met them.
Mark Twain said that “golf is a good walk spoiled”. I know of what he speaks. For forty five years I loved golf, endured it, hated it and tolerated it. Now, I am happy to report, I have no feelings at all about the sport. Sort of the way I feel about my hockey team. You grow out of these things.
These days, a trip to the golf course is about time well spent with friends and having the opportunity to encounter the beauty of nature.
As I recall vividly, I played golf on my wedding day. It was early October and we were the only group on the course. Hardly surprising as it was the day after a hurricane and it was still very windy and we were pelted by heavy rains. Nobody was keeping score. I have come to the conclusion that not keeping score is one of the keys to enjoying the game. Because, quite frankly, nobody really gives a damn what your score is, unless they are emptying your pockets of money.
This reminds me of the day that a couple of guys I used to golf with each took fifty cents off me. They could hardly contain their glee. The next morning, I was driving to an appointment in Cape Breton when my assistant at called to tell me that there were two gentlemen waiting to invest some money. I almost turned around until she told me that each of them was fondling two quarters.
Blessedly, on the day of the charity fundraiser, we were playing a “scramble” format. There was no pressure. If (when) you hit a bad shot, you simply picked up and went to the best shot in your group. It turned out to be a scorcher of a day: 30 degrees Celsius.
There were a lot of birdies but, unfortunately for our group, they were all singing cheerfully in the trees. There was one eagle but he was nesting. We were more or less, “par for the course”.
I did notice the smell of the fresh mown grass and the panoramic view of Pleasant Valley (how aptly named) from the seventh tee.
A funeral cortege was driving by the golf course as a group was putting on the 18th green. Upon seeing the hearse, one of the players stopped and put his hat over his heart as the procession passed. “That was really a very nice gesture,” one of his buddies said. “Hey, it’s the least I could do. Sunday would have been our 35th wedding anniversary!”
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