Miserable
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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