Showing posts with label Golf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Golf. Show all posts

Sunday, May 10, 2009

What do WWDS Imaginary Readers Look Like?



Here is one hitting a 1-iron off the eastern face of Tumbledown Mountain.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Frivilous lawsuit?

Contributed by Auggie: Proud member of the USGA (Underachievers Society of Golf Apprenticeship)
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I’m thinking of suing golf. Negligent infliction of emotional distress, that should do it. I’m not sure who will actually pay for damages, but the lawyers are good at figuring out those details.

The idea came to me in an airport recently when I overheard (along with everyone else in terminal D) a young man on his cell phone weeping about his ex, and explaining his strategy to sue for emotional distress. It was eerie, his words had a haunting familiarity like he was describing my life – except, he wasn't describing my life at all. And then it struck me like a wayward tee shot, he was describing my relationship with golf. He talked about the extreme high points [check] followed by the depressing lows [check]. He spoke of the pain and suffering he has endured since the relationship began [check and check]. It was uncanny really. Why hadn’t I thought of this avenue before? Sue the wicked witch and move on with my life.

This relationship analogy is strangely accurate. My friends often ask “why do you stay with golf when it always brings you pain?” And I’ll reply “no, no, we’re just going through a rough patch that’s all, everything will work out fine”. I usually say this after a successful day. And just when I think our relationship is flourishing beyond my wildest dreams – WHACK! – “take that boy, get cute with me again and there's more of the same”. Golf slaps me around and embarrasses me in front of my friends. Next thing I know I'm shanking balls into people’s swimming pool, you know, the ones who thought a house on the golf course would be a lovely idea. And then I vow to end the miserable relationship, and to find a more benevolent companion like extreme Scottish hammer throwing. And I dream of spitefully donating my clubs to a corrosion research lab where they’ll meet their slow, grisly but well deserved death. But anyone who has been in a passionate relationship knows you can’t stay away. You just can’t. So I come back for more and sure enough, I’ll hole a shot from the green side bunker as if golf is saying to me “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I wasn’t myself, just give me another chance, I promise it won’t happen again”. And I believe it, because I want to believe it.

Oh, we’ve tried counseling. We even went to see a “Pro” as they call them. But of course golf was on her best behavior then. Casual observers would watch us and think “oh, what a wonderful relationship those two have”. And the pro convinces me there is nothing wrong with the relationship and perhaps I just need to be more understanding and give it some time. So there you have it - it’s really my fault.

So I bought some new clubs this year. There’s nothing like a shiny new gift to add spark to a relationship and regain the old magic. I better withdraw that lawsuit idea - she would never take me back if I pulled a stunt like that.