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teenage soap operas on the 18th hole
Jul. 12th, 2002 05:53 pmI signed up for the company golf tournament more out of a whim and desire to get out in summer weather than out of any actual love for the game -- not to mention the idea of playing golf in the middle of a workday felt like some grownup version of hooky.
Most of the other players in the tournament were novices, folks who started a year or so ago and still had yet to master the myriad frustrating nuances of the game, and it didn't take long for them to notice that I wasn't one of them. There was the familiarity with which I handled my clubs, and the fact that I sounded like I knew what I was talking about with subjects like pin placement and the speed of greens. Though what sealed it was the observation of the Sales VP as he watched me practice.
"Gosh, Cris, that's an awful nice swing you've got. Just like you see on TV."
and instantly, I was reminded of a comment from a game way back when. I was playing a round with my dad and two Catholic priests. I hit a nice drive off the tee, and as I watched the ball sail across a clear sky, I heard a priest say, "oh, your son has a beautiful swing. So limber. So ... supple."
While I knew better than to re-tell that particular story, I was a little surprised by my first drive, which was an almost exact mirror of that one the priest admired. I watched my ball follow a delicate arc that, if turned into a mathematical equation, would have a calculus with an elegance of its own, and Ken, one of the consulting managers, came up to me and said, "Perfect placement, Cris, I gotta say I'm glad to have you on my team."
"Thanks," I replied, "almost looks like I actually knew what I was doing."
We laughed as we got back into our carts, mine a little more bitter than his. As we drove up to my ball, one of the new marketing flacks turned to me and asked, "so have you been playing for a while?"
"You could say that," I replied, " My dad started my brother and I on the game when I was ... seven, maybe? I've been playing off and on since then. More off than on. Only play about once a year now."
"Still ... that's great. I wish I started playing earlier. You're so lucky."
( Yeah. Lucky. )
Most of the other players in the tournament were novices, folks who started a year or so ago and still had yet to master the myriad frustrating nuances of the game, and it didn't take long for them to notice that I wasn't one of them. There was the familiarity with which I handled my clubs, and the fact that I sounded like I knew what I was talking about with subjects like pin placement and the speed of greens. Though what sealed it was the observation of the Sales VP as he watched me practice.
"Gosh, Cris, that's an awful nice swing you've got. Just like you see on TV."
and instantly, I was reminded of a comment from a game way back when. I was playing a round with my dad and two Catholic priests. I hit a nice drive off the tee, and as I watched the ball sail across a clear sky, I heard a priest say, "oh, your son has a beautiful swing. So limber. So ... supple."
While I knew better than to re-tell that particular story, I was a little surprised by my first drive, which was an almost exact mirror of that one the priest admired. I watched my ball follow a delicate arc that, if turned into a mathematical equation, would have a calculus with an elegance of its own, and Ken, one of the consulting managers, came up to me and said, "Perfect placement, Cris, I gotta say I'm glad to have you on my team."
"Thanks," I replied, "almost looks like I actually knew what I was doing."
We laughed as we got back into our carts, mine a little more bitter than his. As we drove up to my ball, one of the new marketing flacks turned to me and asked, "so have you been playing for a while?"
"You could say that," I replied, " My dad started my brother and I on the game when I was ... seven, maybe? I've been playing off and on since then. More off than on. Only play about once a year now."
"Still ... that's great. I wish I started playing earlier. You're so lucky."
( Yeah. Lucky. )
