I gave up golf last Sunday.
All in all, it’s been a horrible year for me. I’ve gone from an 8 handicap to a 12 and rapidly falling. Where I used to score in the low 80’s with the occasional round in the 70’s I now have to celebrate and 86 and find solace in the fact that my scores haven’t hit triple digits yet.
I thought I could play through it. The weather has been fantastic! I’ve played alot. But double and triple bogies have made landclaims on my score cards. You don’t care how many tee shots I’ve hit out of bounds and I don’t either any more.
On Saturday morning I was playing at Royal Ashburn. I hit the best tee shot I had ever struck on the 11th hole. I had 90 yards to the pin. I took out my sand wedge and practised a couple of perfect swings. I set up to the ball, took the club back and then…decelerated in to a disgusting chili dip chip that landed in the pond! My score already looked like it had been snacking on Big Macs for two hours and this was the final straw. I wound up and swung the wedge with all my might into my golf bag, exploding a bottle of watter and bending my wedge.
But that’s not when I gave up. I gave up golf on Sunday morning on the 6th tee at Royal Ashburn after hitting my tee shot dead straight – to the left. I turned to my playing partner and announced, “You are watching a man play his final round of golf.” That announcement didn’t make me feel or play any better but I continued and finished the round, shooting an 88. And that’s when I gave up golf.
P.S. I have a tee time at Wooden Sticks tomorrow morning and bought myself a new wedge.