Getting a Grip

Yes, that’s me, golfing in sneakers and ill-fitting batting gloves, with a driver that is taller than I am. My dad is chuckling in heaven. He is either mortified or amused. He was a real golfer, one with trophies, and eagles and birdies to his credit. He had golf shoes, clubs that fit, and an actual golf glove (complete with ball marker.) He tried to get me interested in the sport. He wanted to teach me the beauty of medal play but I scoffed at his attempts, telling him that it was “an old man’s game” and that I would rather be grounded for a week than to spend time on a golf course. It would be an understatement to say that I am filled with regret.

“Golf, like measles, should be caught young.”
― Wodehouse

We are just biding our time in Adel, Georgia. We have been camped here a while, and although beautiful, there is not too much to do for entertainment after walking all of the trails and biking around the park. There are times that retirement can be too relaxing.

Fortunately, we stumbled upon Circlestone Country Club, and decided to break out the woods, irons and the wedges. Why not give it a whirl? They allowed public play, and were very accommodating about allowing a “twosome”. Although we rarely (nearly never) play, we brought our clubs on our journey, hoping we would find some time to play nine holes, maybe even 18-holes, if Geoff’s back, and my temperament, would hold out. I’m the type of golfer who is inclined to throw a three-wood into a lake after multiple miss-swings and mulligans.

“It took me seventeen years to get three thousand hits in baseball. It took one afternoon on the golf course.”
― Hank Aaron

So, why was I wearing baseball gloves? Well, if you have not even touched your clubs for six years, and they were collecting cobwebs in the shed, the grips were also slowly dry-rotting away.

On our first day out, the clubs seemed to be melting in my hands. My palms were black. My fingers were black. The seat in the golf cart was turning black. Clearly this was going to be a 9-hole day. We headed to the club house, but they only had men’s gloves, all of which were too large. We got a voucher for another 9-hole day, and headed to Walmart in search of ladies golf gloves.

Hmmm…. no ladies golf gloves at Walmart, and no sporting goods stores nearby. Batting gloves were the next best option. They were a little large, but at least I would not have to wash my hands with acetone.

I am a duffer, a hacker, the kind of golfer that you do not want in your foursome. People draw straws to see who has to take me. I like to envision my tee shots with lots of loft and distance, but most of mine are ‘worm-burners’. Thankfully, the grass was so dry that the ball seemed to roll forever. Yes, sadly, I had plenty of 9-stroke holes, but I did manage a legitimate 4, and enough solid shots to keep me coming back for more torture.

Where do you get new grips when you are rolling around in an RV?

In other news, it took Gypsy exactly three days to completely gut “Bun-Bun”, her (Ha! Ha!) indestructible, tough toy that she received for her recent birthday.

The weather has been warm and wonderful, AND today we are headed to the South Georgia Motorsports Park to check out some Autocross and Drag Racing….. I see another blog coming.

Stay tuned…

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