Saratoga News

Columns

When will I ever learn--golf just isn't my game

By Dick Sparrer

My wife calls it a character flaw. I say it's just me being one of the guys. So then she says, "Well, then, don't complain ... it's your own fault. You've got to learn how to say no."

But what am I supposed to say when a couple of buddies call to ask if I'll play golf with them on Saturday?

"Oh, I'm sorry ... but I have to work."

They know better.

"Oh, I'm sorry ... but I don't play golf."

They know I own my own set of clubs (even if they don't know how badly I used them).

"Oh, I'm sorry ... but my wife won't let me."

Now that they might believe, but I'll be darned if I'll say it.

So what did I say?

"Sure ... sounds like a lot of fun ... what time do we tee off?"

Fun? Golf? Not the way I play it.

Walking barefoot on hot coals? Sleeping naked on a bed of nails? Now that's fun, at least when compared to my golf game. For me, the game is slow, painful torture.

You've read the bumper sticker, "The worst day fishing is better than the best day at work." Too bad the same can't be said of golf. Trouble is, it just sounds so good.

Fresh air, beautiful scenery, good friends. Golfers will suck you in with all that baloney. They won't mention the frustration, humiliation or exasperation.

But stupid me. I play once or twice a year, and I fall for the same lines every time. Just so you won't, here are just a few golf translations:

* C'mon ... it'll be fun.

If you're as bad as you say you are, it will finally give me someone to beat!

* Hey, none of us are really that good.

Hey, I shot a double bogey once!

* We'll have some laughs.

Yeah, watching you swing!

* It's just a small wager, just to make the game interesting.

I've got two kids in college, and you look like easy money!

* Hey, nice shot!

The other 132 shots were so bad, it made this one look good!

* Go ahead, toss your ball out of that ditch.

You're absolutely no threat to me, I'm going to take all of your money anyway, and we'd like to finish this round sometime before November!

* Hey, have you heard the latest golf joke?

Yeah, he's right here in our foursome!

* This was fun ... we'll have to do it again.

Yeah, when the water hazard on the 18th fairway freezes over!

So there I was ... it was cold, the grass was wet, it was 7 a.m. And lucky me, I got to pay $60 for this wonderful experience!

Strangely enough, my oldest son had played a day earlier. He came home bragging about getting two pars--a pair of fours. Big deal ... I knew I was capable of matching that on a single hole!

But that's not what I was thinking about when I frantically tore my bag apart in search of my golf shoes. Turns out he had borrowed them the day before ... and left them in his friend's car.

So on top of the 60 bucks I had already shelled out, it cost me 64 more for a new pair of shoes in the pro shop. Throw in the bucket of balls on the driving range, the "friendly wager" I would lose and the fact that I got stuck for hot dogs and beverages later in the day (right ... loser pays), and I was out $178. It seems that fresh air, beautiful scenery and good friends don't come cheap.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted, humiliated, cranky and broke. What's more, I had a painful blister on my left index finger. In need of a little sympathy, I started to tell the story of my $178 day to my wife and two sons. But Natalie had that, "Well, maybe you've learned your lesson and next time you'll say no," look on her face, so I turned to the boys for support.

"That's not bad--it's not even a dollar a stroke," said the youngest with a hearty laugh. Whose idea was it to have children, anyway?

The oldest didn't dare say a word. Anyway, he was too busy trying on the new golf shoes.

Then my wife, in her cheery little voice, said, "I know what will make you feel better ... you can take me out to dinner."

"No!" I said firmly.

I had learned my lesson well.