* I’m lying.
We didn’t come close because our foursome (names withheld upon request) consisted of one good player, one brave but bad player, one terrible who, on the golf stinkability scale, ranks somewhere below a pulpwood mill. I am the sulfur dioxide of golfers.
Lying, however, is the essence of this game. I say this because golfers who play regularly will tell people like me that it doesn’t matter whether you have a good or bad game, but that you just have fun.
This simply isn’t true, because if it was and “fun” consisted of complaining, whining, cursing and muttering frequently for hours on end without accomplishing much of anything, then I’ve been having more fun at work than I realized.
I am happy to report, however, that my once-a-year outing in the Children’s House by the Sea Tournament went smoothly.
No one required medical attention during or after the contest and nothing in particular happened that could not be remedied with a few sessions of counseling.
And I did hit the ball well … not once, but twice.
Some would say this is pitiful and that I should confine my complaining, whining, muttering and cursing to my office (which, unfortunately, does not have a beer cart … yet), but they would be missing the point.
Out of the 200 or so players in this tournament, I would bet big money that I am the only one who can say that my game has improved tremendously since my last foray onto the links. In fact, I am now twice as good as I once was. And that’s the truth.