Golf Fore the Good

For lovers of golf, it is time to focus, to practice and to play as much golf as we can cram into our lives. My warm -up for my own season is fast approaching; four days of golf and trash talking with my brother, the likes of which I’m pretty sure Atlanta Country Club has never seen. As is often quoted, “there’s no crying in baseball.” Well, as far as I know there are no umpires in golf. That hasn’t stopped my brother from lining one up to referee our first match when we meet again to continue our blood match of golf competition next week.

I’ve done all the whining I can to get a few strokes from him, with no luck. I can’t complain too much as I’m quite sure, if I remember correctly, that the last of our matches that he won was more than a decade ago, in March of 2007. And that, may I make clear, was with me playing so far back that if I stepped back the two allowed club lengths from my own tee box I was in his. Oh sure, that was fair.

Our handicaps are within a stroke or two. It is only the intimidation factor that has so far given me the edge, as my brother’s losses mount up and my wins accumulate. Once a loser, always a loser (I may pay dearly for that statement). What is it that they say about established roles in a familial order? I relish my position as the little kid being chased by the big kid now. I have no desire to go back to being the one held up my heels and tormented by the older siblings. Not that there won’t be a little torturing and taunting on the fairways next week – thus justifying the need for the referee - but these days I can give as good as I get.

I’m guessing the first rule of play in our golf match after those established by the Royal and Ancient will be ‘no whining.” Again, I’ll be playing behind my usual tees and again, with no strokes (yes, that droning noise you’re hearing is coming from me and sounds just a tad like a whine). Adversity shall only make my victory sweeter!

I’m off to the range to sharpen my verbal strategy if not my game.