Mr. D and I went golfing last night with another couple. I haven't had my clubs out in over a year, but for a while I golfed every week in a women's league. I was awful. Perfectly dreadful. I putt beautifully thanks to many hours at Tom Thumb Mini Golf back when I was in high school, but my long game is wretched. (We're talking double digits on several holes, my score for nine holes rivaled other people's scores for eighteen.)
Then I went out with my MIL about a year ago and halfway through our play, I thought to hell with this crap started lining up my feet with one slightly forward, I dropped my shoulder and HEAVED the club forward at that golf ball like Happy Gilmore. You know what? My ball sailed into the air and flew straight ahead to the mark like a pro had hit it.
Apparently when I totally ignore all the stuff about lining up my knuckles, lining up my feet, bending slightly at the knees, keeping my arms straight, twisting my shoulders, keeping my head up, etc. and so forth to the tenth power? I can golf a fairly decent game.
I look like hell, feet splayed out, totally off-kilter in my stance, but it works!
Last night I golfed the same way, flushing all the tips and golf lessons out of my mind and just concentrating on hitting the ball however my body seemed naturally inclined. We were coming up on the ninth hole and for the first time in my life I felt ready to take on the back nine--just for the fun of it. I was actually golfing so well that I enjoyed myself.
Golf--fun? When I play by my own rules, it actually is. I only lost ONE ball, only landed in ONE sand trap, only shanked ONE time too far to the right. And my putting is still righteous.
I'm looking forward to next weekend when I get to play again.
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