Lefty Lost It

Dare I risk posting about something I know little about, again? Ahh what the hell. It always gets the most action, even if it is at my expense. Besides, golf isn't that difficult to understand. Playing the game well, at least for me, is a different story. Way too much time to think - a thinking man's (um women's) sport, although that could be called into question given some of the comments past and present players have made - Fuzzy Zoeller's racially charged comments about Tiger Woods and VJ Singh's sexist blurb about Annika Sorenstam come to mind. They could not have been thinking.

I dig watching Golf on a Sunday afternoon. I hate playing it. It's torture. Paying a hefty some of money for 5 hours of dragging your bag around, all the while sweating like a horse, and swatting away gnats like one too. Shelling out more money to the cart princess peddling beer, wearing a low cut number (hmmm, wonder who she's marketing to?) because beer enhances my bowling game, maybe it will help this. At the very least it will dull the boredom. Ok, maybe frustration is a better word because I suck at golf. The only count I've ever had on a hole that came close to par was the number of balls I lost. At the end of my round of "exercise" as my husband likes to sell it, after accounting for my beer intake, I've burned a net of 10 calories, smell like a wet dog, "out" 20 bucks in lost balls and exhausted because I took three times as many strokes as my comrades.

Sorry but I'd much rather spend that 5 hours playing a couple of tennis matches, where sweating is an indication of actual exercise.

Face it, you just don't see a lot golfers, especially Americans, who appear to be physically fit. In fact, many of them have man boobs, including Phil Mickelson and Colin Montgomery, who were in the running for the US Open trophy yesterday. I can't think of any sport, besides Sumo wrestling, where man jugs appear to be an indication of success. Phil has had an incredibly successful year, bringing with it a big payroll, which apparently, judging by the size of his expanding bust, enabled him to eat a little more.

Maybe that plays into his "likeable" factor - he seems like golf's favorite son. He looks like an average guy, lest you stand him by his gorgeous wife and beautiful children, who enjoys hotdogs and beer (and perhaps a few ho-hos?) like most other Americans. He wears his heart on his sleeve, looks like he might cry on the 18th after falling apart yesterday, and calls himself an "idiot" in the post game conference.

He lost it yesterday. I felt bad for him, but he sure makes that boring, frustrating game worth watching.