golf Archives %- – Rock The Wrinkle

As boomers we often find ourselves either with more time to pursue hobbies old and new, or we get this insatiable urge to do the things we’ve never done. Or re-learn all the things we tried many, many years ago. The consequences of this can be painful. Entertaining. Hysterical.

And in some cases, downright dangerous.

Some suddenly decide it’s time to zip line. Or rollerblade (please remember the helmet). Others play it safe and start a walking regimen, or settle for something tamer like cleaning out the garage. (Even that can have its risks.)

Me, I decided to once again “take up” golf. Not sure what “take up” means…but in my case, it could be an accurate description of what happens to the driving range turf when I hit fat. I had let 20 years pass since I had been on a real golf course, and at least a few since I had stepped on a driving range. I was nervous and self-conscious. I can report that I did not injure anyone, either standing near me or in the parking lot.

I actually even made contact with the ball a few times.

Gosh, Arnold Palmer (my all-time favorite golfer) sure made it look easy.

Then a friend suggested we take a few golf lessons together with a course professional. Wow, what a difference it makes to actually hear directions from someone who knows what they are doing. He told me what I needed to hear: head down, stay on the balls of my feet, follow through, and so on. In fact, I had so much good info in my brain that I found it difficult to take a step. But I started to absorb it….concentrate, practice, and build that famous muscle memory.

Of course some days you can’t do anything right.

You hit fat and kill the grass.

You pull your head up too soon and miss everything, sure everyone on the driving range line is watching and thinking, “Isn’t that sad. She didn’t seem that uncoordinated.”

You grip the club tighter and get tense and then you do hit the ball…sideways. (Fore!)

Yet, you persevere. And when you actually put it all together and hit the ball correctly…and it goes up and out and straight and right into that bright blue sky…don’t you feel proud to be alive! Why, this game isn’t so hard! What was I so afraid of?

Until your next swing, when once again, you are rearranging the ground below you.

Turns out I thought had always been playing (!) with women’s clubs, but I was informed they were way heavier than modern women’s clubs, and in fact, might even have been men’s clubs. So I ventured out for new ones…nothing fancy, just a decent set that is light and made for women. This will really help my game, I thought. Then I tried them, and first time, couldn’t hit worth a dang. My excuse was I had a cold and didn’t feel good.

Like anything, golf comes with attachments. Does your bag have a stand? Do you have covers for your woods? Do you have a cart to roll your bag around? Did you remember to get tees and balls? Are there enough pockets in your bag for water, a jacket, keys, and a towel? (They say the towel is to wipe off your clubs. I think it’s for wiping your tears away.)

One thing is for sure: usually, no one is watching. No one cares how bad you are. No one is laughing when your ball goes three feet. As long as you play fast and get out of their way, they don’t care if you kill a duck with your drive.

I wish I was better. But I’m still enjoying getting up to speed. And I think being a baby boomer gives me a big advantage: I’m just out there for fun, because despite what Mark Twain said, I think golf is a great way to breathe some outside air, feel the breeze, and just think about only one thing. Or is that five things. I forget.

And I don’t need a helmet.