Senior Moments
Charles P. Eberson
A Senior’s Observations, Opinions and Rantings
I have been in an abusive relationship for years and no matter how I have tried, I just can’t seem to extricate myself from it. There are rare moments when it brings me joy but more often, I am left frustrated and defeated but with a renewed resolve to not allow myself to be taken advantage like that again. But much of it is my own fault. I didn’t take up the game of golf until later in life. The truth be known, I felt that baseball was an adrenalin rush compared to golf. The Golf Channel became an invaluable resource for calming a restless, ruminating mind and allowed me to fall into the calm embrace of slumber. Never would I have imagined myself paying good money chasing a little white ball through the countryside. It started innocently enough; finding some old clubs and hitting the driving range. I topped balls, shanked some to the left, hooked others to the right and downright missed the ball completely. Being a reasonable athlete, I knew I could do better than that. I ran out to the local sporting goods store and bought a standard set of clubs off the rack along with a pair of golf shoes. My reasoning with the golf shoes was that even if I gave up the sport, the spikes would improve my traction on the ice when winter arrives. I returned to the driving range armed with my new clubs, golf shoes and a video camera with a dogged determination to improve. The cruelty in this game lies in the fact that it will allow you the occasional near pro quality shot; give you that glimpse of perhaps a respectable round of golf in the near future only to dash those hopes with an embarrassing horrible shot. This fact has proven valid based on the numerous times I have found clubs in two pieces sticking out of trash cans along the course. Upon returning home, I reviewed the video in horror. A swing, in actuality, which didn’t feel that bad would probably make Charles Barkley shudder. Friends have begged me to take lessons to end the embarrassment of playing with me but I have too many other expensive hobbies and feel that throwing money into golf lessons is like buying a stock that keeps going down in the hopes of a substantial return. Yet, the game still has an inexplicable draw on me. I am even managing to stay awake, for the most part, while watching the major tournaments on TV. I do enjoy being outdoors and cruising the public courses in a golf cart replete with food and beverages. The horrible shots while still lurking in my golf bag somewhere, rear their ugly heads a little less often and I enjoy the camaraderie of gracious golf partners who can convincingly lie to my face about my game. It brings to mind the title of one book about playing golf on the PGA entitled “A Good Walk Spoiled.” It is at least some comfort that the frustration inherent in this game can be experienced at all levels, not just mine.
