So Ken and Nina, my in-laws, are coming to visit in a couple of weeks. Ken, is becoming an increasingly large fan of playing golf. Over the last several summers, while working for Ken, I have been golfing with him a handful of times. So it’s only natural that Ken and I plan to go out golfing when they come to visit.
Being that I haven’t picked up my clubs in over a year now I decided that it might be a good idea to go to the driving range to get some practice in before the big game. I got up this morning, assessed what I needed to get done at school, and decided that today was as good of a day as any to start. I went to the Appleridge Golf Course, bought a bucket of balls and went out to the driving range. Thankfully, I was the only one out there so I didn’t embarrass myself too badly when I started to hack away at the ball.
Let me tell you, I am ruuuusty at golf. I’ve never been a great player but I think I’ve hit par once or twice out at the beautiful 9-hole Ponderosa Golf Course in Burley, ID. However, this morning it took me about 10 minutes before I finally hit a ball that didn’t just roll over the berm in front of me. I practiced for a while longer and eventually started hitting some balls a decent length away. The only problem was that they were far from going straight. In fact, there were several balls that were traveling perpendicular to my intended path by the time they were done bouncing. And when say perpendicular I don’t mean that I tipped them off of my club, I mean they flew up in to the air and then miraculously turned left about 75 yards away from me. I looked it up on the internet and it’s official, I slice a golf ball like nobody business.
After using my “new” driver ($15 at my neighbor’s garage sale) for a while I decided that it was time to move over to the irons. First of all, I forget how short irons are. I don’t know if my clubs are too short or what but I definitely had to put a bend in my upper back to reach the ball. Of course, that’s what you get with $1 Goodwill golf clubs. My first swings with my iron looked a lot like the first swings with my driver. I would either miss entirely or send the ball rolling, rather slowly, over the berm in front of me. After another 10 minutes of futility, I finally started hitting them. However, it seems that the only way I could really hit with my irons today was by rolling up a large chunk of earth in my swing. There were a couple times I gouged a divot so deep I was looking over my shoulder, expecting to see someone coming out of the pro shop to chew me out about ruining their driving range. I will say this about my iron shots though, when I hit them, even if it was accompanied with a large amount of turf, they usually went straight.
Oh, and somehow, while at the driving range, I managed to slightly sprain my right wrist. So yeah… I have a golf injury. Maybe I should invest in some of those snazzy golfing gloves. Or even better, I should wear the splint Miranda got when she broke her thumb.
At the end of my driving range experience I climbed up out of the hole I had dug while frantically swinging my clubs, picked up my kick-a red white and blue vinyl golf bag and headed for school.
But not all hope is lost. I’ve hired a great golfing instructor: the internet. The only problem is that it can’t seem to get its story straight… keeps telling me different things. But I figure if I read up on it a little maybe I could at least reduce my gargantuan slice. Plus, I intend to go to the driving range at least three more times before Ken gets to