THE MANLY SPORT OF GOLF


Well the temperature outside is rising and you all know what that means:

The golf season is upon us. Ah, golf! The one sport where you can drink and compete at the same time. God, I love it. I love it so much that this year I not only joined my usual Friday night league, but I also joined a Wednesday night league. That means two nights a week of golf.

Now it wasn't so long ago that I didn't enjoy golf so much. For those of you who have never played it can be a very frustrating game. Oh sure, you watch Tiger and Phil on a Sunday afternoon and they make it look so easy. They hardly even swing hard. Well try and hit that little white dimpled ball. It's a lot tougher then you think. Hell, even after you learn to hit it, now you have to learn to hit it straight.

That's where the alcohol comes in.

Even if you don't shoot in the low 80's or even the low 90's...who cares. You're outside in the fresh air, soaking up some rays with your buds and you're getting drunk. What more could a man ask for? (I have seen Deja Vu golf outings before, but that's a whole nother story). On my Friday night league most of us don't take the game too seriously. However, there are a few guys who think they are in contention for The Claret Jug. (That's the trophy for The British Open). I hate playing those guys so I try and take them out of their game. I taunt them. I tsk tsk tsk them when they hit a bad shot, or I will over-patronize them. "That shot could have been worse," I'll say, knowing that to them it couldn't get any worse. As their tempers flare, I just crack another beer and look for the nearest Porta-Potti.

I have found in my experience two types of golfers: The first type is the guy who gets worse as he consumes more alcohol. Then you have the son-of-a-bitch who gets better as he consumes more beer. You can always pick these guys out because they're always handing you more beer even those it's against your better judgement to keep drinking. My partner last year was of the latter persuasion. What even made it worse was the fact that he was also my son.

Kevin definitely inherited my competitive gene. He hates to lose...at anything. The problem we ran into the first year we golfed together was that he was competing with me instead of the two-man team we were playing at the time. He also would ply me with beer saying things like "Jeez Dad, you're two beers behind me. You better start drinking." Of course I would oblige because I'll be damned if my son can out drink me. Needless to say, we did not win the league that first year; but if they gave an award for the most beer consumed during the season, we were the Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson in that category.

Kevin eventually got a job in Cleveland and moved there late last year which left me scrambling to find a new golf partner. My partner had to have the same qualities as Kevin: highly competitive and extremely thirsty. It didn't take long, but I was able to convince a long time friend and co-worker to golf with me on Fridays. I was a little shocked because he also belongs to a Wednesday night league. I bet you all can see where this is going. Needless to say, his normal Wednesday night partner could not golf due to some personal issues that he had to take care of, so of course Al asked me to fill in for his old partner. And loving the game like I do, said yes. The Wednesday night league starts next week and I can't wait.

THE OFFICIAL LAWS OF GOLF

LAW 1: No matter how bad your last shot was, the worst is yet to come. This law does not expire on the 18th hole, since it has the supernatural tendency to extend over the course of a tournament, a summer and, eventually, a lifetime.

LAW 2: Your best round of golf will be followed almost immediately by your worst round ever. The probability of the latter increases with the number of people you tell about the former.

LAW 3: Brand new golf balls are water-magnetic. Though this cannot be proven in the lab, it is a known fact that the more expensive the golf ball, the greater its attraction to water.

LAW 4: Golf balls never bounce off of trees back into play. If one does, the tree is breaking a law of the universe and should be cut down.

LAW 5: No matter what causes a golfer to muff a shot, all his playing partners must solemnly chant "You looked up," or invoke the wrath of the universe.

LAW 6: The higher a golfer's handicap, the more qualified he deems himself as an instructor.

LAW 7: Every par-three hole in the world has a secret desire to humiliate golfers. The shorter the hole, the greater its desire.

LAW 8: Topping a 3-iron is the most painful torture known to man.

LAW 9: Palm trees eat golf balls.

LAW 10: Sand is alive. If it isn't, how do you explain the way it works against you?

LAW 11: Golf carts always run out of juice at the farthest point from the clubhouse.

LAW 12: A golfer hitting into your group will always be bigger than anyone in your group.

Likewise, a group you accidentally hit into will consist of a football player, a professional wrestler, a convicted murderer and an IRS agent -- or some similar combination.

LAW 13: All 3-woods are demon-possessed.

LAW 14: Golf balls from the same "sleeve" tend to follow one another, particularly out of bounds or into the water (See Law three).

LAW 15: A severe slice is a thing of awesome power and beauty.

LAW 16: "Nice lag" can usually be translated to "lousy putt." Similarly, "tough break" can usually be translated "way to miss an easy one, sucker."

LAW 17: The person you would most hate to lose to will always be the one who beats you.

LAW 18: The last three holes of a round will automatically adjust your score to what it really should be.

LAW 19: Golf should be given up at least twice per month.

LAW 20: All vows taken on a golf course shall be valid only until the sunset.

Remember: Keep your head down, your knees bent and let the club do the work.

And oh yeah, bring plenty of cold beer :) See you on the links!

Signs Of Old Age

As much as I hate to admit it...I'm getting older. How do I know? I just got fitted for my first pair of bifocals. I was perfectly content with lifting my old glasses up to read the bills at restaurants. Except when I based the tip on a number that wasn't even close to what the bill said. So what! Everyone makes mistakes. Well the wife didn't share my views on this, so she made me an appointment to get my eyes checked.

Not only was I going to get new glasses, but we decided to go to a new optometrist as well. Talk about a double whammy. Well, I got my eyes tested, they even put that pupil dilating solution in my eyes so they could check out the health of my retina. Good thing the wife came along. After they administered the drops I felt like Ray Milland in "The Man With The X-Ray Eyes". I thought for sure they had mixed up the eye drops and had accidently poured gasoline into my eyes, that's how bad they burned. I knew I was in trouble when thr doctor even said "this is gonna burn a little" right before she put the drops in. Needless to say, my retina is fine, but my eyes looked like they were on fire.

About 10 days later the optometrist calls and tells me my glasses are ready for pick up. Hot Diggity, can't wait. I drive to the optometrist enjoying my last day as a one-lense-wearing man. The sky looked bluer than I remember. The colors of the passing cars stood out like an Andy Warhokl painting: super bright and vivid. As I walk into the shop, I get this uncanny feeling of dread. Like something is going to go horribly wrong. I tell the receptionist who I am and she directs me to a small table in front of the wall of frames. A thin black girl, whose name escapes me, comes over and sits down opposite me at the small table. She takes my new eyeglasses out of it's new blue leather case and proceeds to put them on my face. As soon as the glasses are seated on my nose the whole world looks like it's underwater, and that's looking through the top portion of the lense which wasn't much of a change from my old glasses. I felt something pulling on my left eye like an invisible ligament meant to turn my eyeball inward. A steady throb was building in my head. There was no way I could wear these abominations. The girl asked me how they felt and I told her that I couldn't see a thing. See grabbed them off my face, twisted the frames a little, and put them back. "How about now?" she asked, as if bending the shit out of the frames was going to somehow miraculously change the lense prescription. "I'm sorry" I said. "But these are not right. Everything is blurry." Somewhat flustered, she called over another optometrist and relayed the messgae I had just given her about my new glasses. He came over to me and said, We'll have to make another appointment to verify the prescription." I said, "OK" and followed him to the receptionist's desk.

As it turned out, they did not write down my prescription properly. They had inverted my astigmatism which is what caused the blurry vision and the pounding headache. Two tries later (that's right...TWO tries) I was fitted with a pair of glasses that I could actually see out of. I'm still getting used to having to point my nose at whatever I'm looking at, instead of moving my eyes like in the old days, but each day it gets better and better.

Pray to God I won't need trifocals! I couldn't even imagine what would happen then.

SUPER BOWL FRENZY

Well it's that time of year again. The time where fans of NFL football and even those who don't know Ben Rothlisberger from Matt Hasslebeck party their asses off. I include myself among those party-goers. However I do know the difference between Ben and Matt.

My wife is especially excited because she has been a die-hard Steelers fan from way back. She might actually watch the entire game this year. Usually, she just wants to see the commercials and the half-time show. Remember Janet Jackson's halftime show? That was one I didn't mind watching. This year the Rolling Stones will be performing. I don't think we need to worry about Mick flashing his breast. Should be good!

I'm predicting a low scoring game since both teams have tremendous defenses. As usual, the team that makes the fewest mistakes should win the game. Did I tell you I'm a master at stating the obvious? Well, I am.

I would like to see Jerome Bettis have a gigantic game and retire as a Superbowl champion. After 13 years, he deserves it. Ben Roethlisberger is going to win more than one Superbowl. For a player his age, he shows a tremendous amount of poise and confidence. He is going to be a great one.

The Seahawks have Shaun Alexander who is the league's MVP. He is the one chance for Seattle to come away with a victory. If the Steeler defense can bottle him up, they will win the game. (Master of the Obvious).

I hope it is an entertaining game. The last few have been down to the wire, and I expect this game will be no exception.

GO STEELERS !