foozle vt foo-zled; foo-zling (1892): to manage or play awkwardly; a bungling golf stroke
Saturday, December 27, 2008
I Already Miss The Game I Love
Okay, I admit it--I already miss playing golf. Just one month into our snow and temperature-imposed four month-plus off-season, I'm itching to get back out on the grass and pinch some shots off the turf and onto the greens. I want to swing hard from the tee box with a driver in my hands and stroke a delicate downhill putt confidently into the back of the hole. I want to try and bend a shot from the rough around a tree or two and splash one out of a greenside bunker that stops within tap-in distance of the cup. I want to walk purposefully down the fairway and enjoy the rattle that my irons make as they bounce off each other with every step I take. I want to hear the wind in the trees as the sun begins to set on a cool, spring evening, knowing that there are countless more rounds to be had in the long and adventurous summer ahead of me. I want to laugh with my buddies as I unexpectedly drain a 30-footer or chip-in from off the green and rejoice in the fact that I just made my wallet a little fatter. I want all the things that go along with playing golf on a regular basis. Instead I guess I'll have to settle for working out, getting stronger, improving the fit of my equipment, and gaining confidence every day that this coming year is going to be the one where I finally play up to my potential on a regular basis. Hope truly does spring eternal in the Great White North, where we can't play for an extended period of time and having nothing else we can do except dream of the golf that lies ahead of us.
I live in Minnesota with my wife and two daughters. I play golf to about a six handicap, as long as my putter is cooperating. When I'm not playing golf or hanging out with my wife and kids, I work at a brewery and dream about playing golf or being with my wife and kids.