11 April 2006


I've always enjoyed the game of golf . . . except when I played it.

In my teens, I caddied a few times for Uncle Henry at Brook Lea Country Club and learned something about the etiquette of the game. A few times at a driving range and playing miniature golf kept me going sporatically. Then in the late 60s, I took lessons at an adult education course, which helped my swing. My neighbor, Ed, and I used to meet Friday afternoons to play a round; I'd leave work at noon to meet him. Usually, if I relaxed and took an easy swing, I could move the ball, but then I'd try to really whack it and would end up a few yards from the tee. It got so that it was more frustrating to try to golf than to stay at work, so I stayed at work. Gave up the game. But not before I bent the shaft of my driver at a driving range, tying to get some distance - that was after a beer or two with some friends from England.

So now, I enjoy the game of golf by watching it on TV. Michelson is some golfer, eh?

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