I like to golf, but not seriously. The day has to be sunny and I have to be smothered in sunscreen; head covered in one of those cute visors, balanced with a ponytail in the back. I like to rent a cart, smuggle some beers and keep track of the points for about seven rounds then suddenly I'm bored and just want to misbehave. But the serious golfer finds that irritating, and I find them just as irritating when they come rushing up in an all fired hurry to get through the course.
"Can we play through you?" The leader of the group, says in a swift approach to take over the battlefield. His snarkiness reverberating with fake kindness and worse his body jumpy like he snorted a line of coke.
"Sure," I reply sweetly with a tilt of the head and a smile, but I might play to the side of your head, is what I generally think, and I can. Aim for the head that is.
Our group stands back as the coke fiends, press forward in a rush to the finish line. When I get pissed my aim gets quite accurate. I can also hit the first drive sometimes, if I'm focused over 150 yards straight and true. I find that if I focus hard enough in any aiming sport I can move the world and opponent around like a puppet; ping-pong, tennis, golf, badminton. Perhaps that is why if I was to be a criminal I would be a sniper. It's my putting, that seems to hold me back.
It gives me great pleasure to wait and watch as they rush off into the distance. Knowing I can use irritation to my advantage. Then bending over the lush grass, to rest my ball on the tee, having selected my beloved 'Fred Flinstone' driver number uno and take my first shot. Even following it correctly with my head, I lose eye contact with it's height, speed and distance. "Sweet" I say and step back from the tee area.
I mumble to myself about the word 'fore'.... for your head... forehead; musing the invention of the word 'fore'. As I wait for our group to finish and then pack up the clubs, and return to sit down in the cart. No one is behind us at this moment and we decide to crack a beer and admire the scenery.
I try to play slow at the beginning and let all the speed golfers pass while I'm not sick of the game. However by the end of the day, I just don't care anymore and find it more pleasurable to look for free balls, aim for the ponds, enjoy the scenery and most of all, the freedom of spending the entire day outside.
But in know way... do I enjoy rushing through the game. I may cheat, but I don't like to be rushed.
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