I love the Game of Golf -- for the sheer pleasure of playing a round, for the mental discipline the game demands, for the lessons I learn every time I take the tee box about staying in the moment, playing the Game -- and living my Life -- with patience, good humor, and dignity, as it is presented to me.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Friday, September 27, 2013
Pumpkin Cup Fever
Barb @ Pumpkin Cup Planning Lunch |
Four years ago some women at Woodfin Ridge Golf Club decided they wanted one last golf tournament before everybody drifts away from the golf course and gets busy with Thanksgiving and Christmas. They talked to some friends at Star Fort, who thought one final tournament was a fine idea.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
The Battle of Star Fort
Larry Parnell, Waiting at the Bar, Ready to Join Either The Loyalists or the Patriots |
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Interclub at Persimmon Hill
Lunch at Persimmon Hill |
Friday, September 13, 2013
Celebrating Helen Alfredsson
The First Evian Champion, Helen Alfredsson, 1994 |
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Evian Blues
I've been pumped up for weeks, waiting for, anticipating The Evian, longing to be at Evian-les-Bains, dragging one of those snazzy green lawn chairs with the Evian logo embossed on it that spectators can purchase for a paltry 20 Euros at The Evian Shop behind me as followed Suzann Pettersen -- my secret girl-jock crush -- watching her roll putts, out-play the entire field, turn loose in Norwegian with a string of exhilarating profanity when her ball misbehaves, all the while nibbling delectable morsels from an oh-so-French picnic basket I purchased on my way through the gate to the tournament.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
My Mental Game: Sometimes Life Just Gets In The Way
For the most part I enjoy being an adult. Within broad limits I set my own daily schedule, order and rearrange my priorities, decide what to eat and when to eat it, go to bed when I'm tired and get out of bed wen I'm rested. And, as I've slowly and systematically set aside the demands of a job and the domestic requirements of an earlier era, I've become pleasantly accustomed to arranging all other aspects of my life around my golf schedule.
Thursday is a regular golf day. Today is Thursday. I should be sipping my smoothie, making my sandwich, stuffing some little carrots in a baggie for my mid-round snack, and heading out the door to the golf course. I should be, but I'm not.
Thursday is a regular golf day. Today is Thursday. I should be sipping my smoothie, making my sandwich, stuffing some little carrots in a baggie for my mid-round snack, and heading out the door to the golf course. I should be, but I'm not.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
(Almost) Lost Balls & Axiomatic Truths
Those of us who love the game of golf, and I mean really LOVE the game of golf, cherish memories of certain special moments when we have actually triumphed over the game -- the day we beat Old Man Par on a hole we'd been struggling to master for weeks, or months, or even years -- our first Ace -- the day we broke 80, or 90, or 100 (depending on where we are on the scorecard/index continuum).
I have two memories that I call us and revisit on days when I'm especially discouraged about the way I played a round, that help me remember the core axiomatic truth about the game of golf: This is a game that involves progress, but at which I will never achieve perfection.
I have two memories that I call us and revisit on days when I'm especially discouraged about the way I played a round, that help me remember the core axiomatic truth about the game of golf: This is a game that involves progress, but at which I will never achieve perfection.
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