Miserable

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Another summer over and I hardly picked up my golf clubs.

I love the game...have since I was a kid, but just too beat up to pull it off.

Decided to play it smart. 

With a work tournament coming up with some great friends, I took a couple of days off! Then I went for a massage the night before.

8 holes in to what was supposed to be a 36-hole get together, I couldn't walk!

But I refused to give up!!

I iced all night.

Then shot par for 4 out of 10 holes...

...before quitting.

Didn't finish 18 holes either day.

As I drove home, after bowing out, I did an accounting of my year.

I picked up the clubs 4 times in 6 months...and only was able to finish 18 holes twice!

I used to play every day when I was 18.

Then every week.

I played 45 holes one day long, long ago, and would've played 9 more if we hadn't run out of light!

And now...

...I'm so messed up, leg, feet, hip & back-wise that I can barely make it to the turn.

"You're playing so well!" My cart partner said. He'd watched me hit a ball, get back to the cart and put on an ice pack....

...until we arrived at my next shot.

The pain nauseated me.

I thought about work.

I have to get to work...

...so I tapped out.

Miserable!

Back to Law & Order.

Try again next year, I guess.

Me and Tiger deserved a better fate.

Both cut down in our prime.

Sucks!!

Won't even try again until May.

Golf is supposed to be a game you can play when you retire...

...damn!

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