Walk Humbly My Friend

I went for a walk last night last night with three of my friends (who will remain nameless to protect their identities). It was one of those really nice nights where four friends walk and talk and have just a great time together. It would have been a fine evening had we left it just at that. But no...we had to mess it all up by trying to play golf while we were walking. 

Golf is the most humbling of games. I started the game with a bogey (one over par). Now for a real golfer they might be a bit bummed. But I hadn't played golf all year (except for St Andrews in Scotland...see my other blog about that) and so starting with a bogey was a good sign. I followed that up with a par. A PAR? How did that happen? Not only did I get a par, but it was a well played controlled par. Like I actually intended to do it. It was as if I was in total control of my game and my clubs. I was on a roll.

Now....right now...is the danger zone. Once you hit the place where you think you are in control...when all is going well...the wheels fall off the bus. It is amazing what goes on in your head when you are playing golf the way it is supposed to be played. Now suddenly, your pleasant walk turns into a competition. You start to think you know what the other guys should be doing to improve their struggling game. They start trying to play better and the joking turns to jabbing. And all the while you are trying to pretend as if you are just as surprised as they are that you are just a notch below Tiger. 

But something happens in your body. Your body knows that you are just a notch above a tree sloth and this is an absolute fluke. Your body begins to revolt and tense up under the pressure of not wanting to look like a fool to your friends. But we all know...its about to unravel. 

And there it goes...the drive sails into the trees. The 3 iron bounces off of a tree and goes behind another tree behind you. You grab a 7 iron to punch it delicately out into the fairway. In your attempt at being delicate you hit the ground three inches behind the ball and the divot goes farther than the ball. Now you need a miraculous 5 wood shot to hit the green and roll in for a par. And when you actually strike the ball you know it has a chance...but only if the lake hadn't been right where the green should have been. The tension is so strong in your neck now that even selecting the pitching wedge out of the bag is painful. Another couple of muffed shots and your on the green putting to salvage a 9 (don't want to go to double digits). You finish the hole, pick up your bag, and walk in shame to the next hole. 

The great consolation in that walk of shame is that now all your friends welcome you back. They're actually glad to see you. They knew that their friend had been away on a journey but now he had returned. All is right with the world again...order has been returned to the universe. All of us are back in our normal place in the world.

And then....I hit a crushing drive right down the middle....you know where this is going.

Epilogue:

One of my friends who was on the walk with me shot par on every hole. I was amazed at how consistent he really was. No matter how many strokes he took he always came back with a par. I asked him how that worked and he just said to me "it's really easy, all you have to do is determine what the par is for every hole and then it is easy to shoot par." 

Hmmm...why hadn't I thought of that?