To Kill a Mockingbird

My hand is blistered, my back is sore, and my left arm is killing me.....all because I insisted in trying my luck at learning to 'golf'.

Now it figures that it was some crazy Scotsman in the 15th Century who 'invented' the game of golf...no doubt after consuming ample amounts of Chivas. Who else would think it was 'fun' to take a stick and hit a little ball making it go, ideally, far far away and then go and try to find it. Once you find it, what do you do? You hit it AGAIN!

It's like playing 'Hide and Seek' except, instead of trying to find, oh I don't know,..... something big like a person?.... you try and find a tiny little ball in the brush, in the water, in a tree. If you are really bad, you may find it inside someone's living room after you have smashed their front window. The bird population that lives close by is at risk of being depopulated if my slice and hooks don't improve.

Because I'm learning to golf on a course where people do live right beside the fairways, my first question was not 'how do I hold the club?' or 'do I need a graphite shaft?'...no, my first question was 'whose insurance pays for any damage?'

After my 1.5 hr lesson, I can proudly say that I can, on occasion, hit a whiffle ball with a good wallop and it will go maybe 10 yds (10 metres in Canada which is slightly farther). Can my life on the LPGA tour be far behind?

And to think you have to whack that ball again.. and again.... and again in order to play an entire game. Talk about flog a dead horse! Speaking of which... has anyone else noticed that the word 'GOLF' spelled backwards is 'FLOG'? Coincidence? I think not.