I'm slowly going crazy!

7/28/10

I'm frustrated. It's raining and I can't go golfing. Luckily, it's raining and I can't cut the grass either. I was going to take a break from golf because instead of being an enjoyable, relaxing, activity, golf has recently given me frequent head and chest pains. I played Renaissance last Monday. After controlling my excitement about my club face discovery, I wanted to test my theory. I was right. I hit the ball with greater loft and more accurately. What I also realized is that for everything that I learn, I forget twice as much. I think I get too excited. I'm in such hurry to put the club face on the ball properly that I don't set up properly, or I lose my rhythm in my backswing, or I aim wrong, or I change my swing plane. You get the picture. I tried writing down swing thoughts, but after a bad shot, they pretty much go to hell. Lately I've been driving worse that Lindsay Lohan with a gram of coke on her nose as she tries to elude L.A.'s finest. Seriously I slice so much that I should open a pizza parlor. It is maddening. Especially when I know I can hit better drives. Not being able to get off the tee sabotages my entire round. I hate taking a drop every effing hole and I hate having surveying my way through poison ivy to search for my latest casualty. So Renaissance was alright. I had a rain delay, and then started the back nine where I linked up with a guy named Anthony. He was a decent player although we both were a bit jittery when we first started playing together. It's like sex(no homo). At least for guys anyway.. When you're by yourself, you remain calm and perform normally. You know what to expect. It's the same thing you've done a million times. As soon as you throw another person in the mix, you get nervous and start fumbling around like you've never done it before. You start trying shit that you don't normally try, and the situation quickly turns into a mess. Literally. Back to golf. Anthony and I both calmed after a hole or two. By the way, I'm not sure if I like that sex metaphor I just used seeing as how I'm talking about playing with another guy and putting balls in holes and so forth. It's just hard to separate the two. The lines feel blurred. It sounds like I'm writing a bad, gay, romance novel. Back to golf again. We both had the same practice mentality. So, we took our time and since no one was behind us, we took liberties with the course without being disrespectful to the game. In other words, we hit s a lot of bad shots until we hit a good one. Me more so than Anthony. I always thought that I was level headed and had a tranquil demeanor, but I guess I was wrong because after a few bad shots, my game really degenerates in to something that has very little resemblance to golf. Getting off the tee is where it starts. The 100 degree weather doesn't help. I might have adult ADD. I lose my focus like Mel Gibson loses his temper. I however, don't start using racist epithets or threaten to kill anyone. In a nut shell, the game is driving me crazy. It's even affecting my writing. I just rambled my way through this entire post, and have no idea what I said. Does anyone have ay Ritalin?