Thursday, May 31, 2007
So, I've been golfing lately. Don't laugh, it's for reals. Today I had my second lesson ever and my coach (yes, coach) says I'm a natural with great athletic ability. I looked at him sideways and reminded him that in high school I did theater. I also confessed that I went out for cross-country but never went to the meets, just the practices. (At the end of the year I went to the banquet and half the people there wanted to know who the hell I was. If you think I'm lying, Kristen will set you straight.)
Anyway, golf. I'm buying a set of clubs on Saturday (from Target) and can hardly contain my incredulity. My coach says I'm doing well, but it's really hard. You have to remember to put your weight on the balls of your feet, keep your knees bent, your hips loose, your arms firm, to shift your weight, keep your head down and follow-through.
When I'm hitting well I love it, but when I'm tired or getting frustrated with my game and starting to slack it's so frustrating. And that's when I start to swear.
Picture me, on the course, cute golf skirt and collared shirt fluttering in the breeze, I address the ball (that's what it's called), swing, whiff, and then "f**********ck."
It's so ladylike.
The only thing that's saving me is the tiny bit of baseball and floor hockey I played when I was in grade school. They used to call me Hat-Trick Conroy. And I totally had no idea what it meant. I didn't think they were insulting me, but, you know, what did I know?
Posted by Kate at 31.5.07