Golf is a Cliche
I worry about my irons clanging when I walk my clubs. My brother holds his still with his right hand. I prefer to thumb my shoulder straps and keep the bag tight against my lower back. My dad uses a pull cart.
We've only played three courses together, but over and over again. The one out in Enumclaw is probably like courses were a hundred years ago, wet and rough and unkempt. It eats your balls. The other two, in Bremerton, are sexier and don't eat your balls.
Every shot feels like a test of your soul and it's totally obnoxious that it's like that.
The worst part is walking around and catching the bus and shit and looking like a golfer. Golfing is kind of bonery, and not that I'm denying that I'm bonery, I just want to tell folks that I'm golfing on the cheap and I don't mean to offend anyone by dragging my clubs on the ferry, but that's my own hang-up. Getting to the course feels like it's something that should be done in secret because, y'know, they're a lot of douchebags on the golf course, and hey, under no circumstances am I a douchebag, dude. Sometimes it's psuedo rich guys ('cause I can't afford courses with real rich guys) acting like pricks and smoking cigars, or Navy dudes with eight fluid tons of testosterone (and smoking cigars) smacking balls 350 yards and smirking and openly ridiculing your very modest (but straight!) 175 and yes that's with a driver. But, anyway, it's like crack when you hit it right and all the BS and shit goes all the way away and I want to do it again and again. I want to perfect the skill of doing something exactly right.
Also, my dad and brother and me relate over the game better than anything else in our adult lives, etc. etc.
We've only played three courses together, but over and over again. The one out in Enumclaw is probably like courses were a hundred years ago, wet and rough and unkempt. It eats your balls. The other two, in Bremerton, are sexier and don't eat your balls.
Every shot feels like a test of your soul and it's totally obnoxious that it's like that.
The worst part is walking around and catching the bus and shit and looking like a golfer. Golfing is kind of bonery, and not that I'm denying that I'm bonery, I just want to tell folks that I'm golfing on the cheap and I don't mean to offend anyone by dragging my clubs on the ferry, but that's my own hang-up. Getting to the course feels like it's something that should be done in secret because, y'know, they're a lot of douchebags on the golf course, and hey, under no circumstances am I a douchebag, dude. Sometimes it's psuedo rich guys ('cause I can't afford courses with real rich guys) acting like pricks and smoking cigars, or Navy dudes with eight fluid tons of testosterone (and smoking cigars) smacking balls 350 yards and smirking and openly ridiculing your very modest (but straight!) 175 and yes that's with a driver. But, anyway, it's like crack when you hit it right and all the BS and shit goes all the way away and I want to do it again and again. I want to perfect the skill of doing something exactly right.
Also, my dad and brother and me relate over the game better than anything else in our adult lives, etc. etc.