I Play Golf Like a Pro - I Walk Upright and Use a Club

As shocking as it may be, I've never been much of an athlete. Despite my best efforts, every sport I've attempted has ended horribly. A volleyball match in a ninth grade P.E. class led to a mandatory screening to see if I had something wrong with my motor skills. My bowling matches are often interrupted by concerned bystanders wanting to know if my wild movements are the result of demonic possession. A game of middle school softball resulted in me being struck out fourteen times in one inning. My most pathetic moment of all came from losing a basketball match against Air Bud. I later found out the dog was not Air Bud- it was just a normal golden retriever that was put down immediately following the match due to a birth defect that left him unable to walk. These experiences have left me with a negative attitude toward sports. I don't even like watching sports on television, mostly because I still have not figured out how Team A beating Team B will affect my life in any way.

That's why my friend's repeated invites to go golfing have been continuously shot down. "Not today, I have a bar mitzvah to attend." "I can't today, I'm singing in a gay wedding." "Sorry, I lost both of my arms in a lumberjack competition this morning." The excuses were starting to wear thin. I finally broke down. I agreed to go with him. But there were two conditions: 1.) I would only learn the essentials on a driving range and not actually play a match on a course and 2.) He had to wear a Raggedy Andy costume the entire time.

The first thing I noticed when he picked me up this morning (besides his lack of costume) was the cool breeze that suggested a fast-approaching fall. It was the perfect day for golf, excluding the fact that I did not want to go golfing. Are you ready for the shocker? My driving range experience went well. I played like Tiger Woods. Yes, if Tiger Woods ever gets struck by lightning, given medication to induce powerful hallucinations, and forced to play golf with a sand wedge lodged in his skull, I'd be his twin. My greatest shot came when my ball went about four feet, bounced off a nearby sign, and landed next to a guy who was practicing a couple of mats down. The gentleman was very polite and returned my ball. I apologized and told him I had no idea what I was doing, which given my horrible performance, is like being on a crashing plane and having the pilot come up to you and say "I think we're screwed."

My only other faux pas came when I did not know which bathroom to enter in the clubhouse. Due to my lack of sports knowledge, I didn't know whether to enter the door marked "PGA" or the one that read "LPGA." I went with the "LPGA" one. Don't worry, though. Yes, there were a lot of women in there, but they all had male genitalia, so it was okay.

Surprisingly, by the end of my practice on the driving range, I was actually getting fairly decent. The balls were going pretty far in the field, and they were going up in the air instead of rolling the whole way on the grass. After my practice ended, I accompanied my friend, who wanted to play the course. I didn't mind because I got to drive a golf cart, an experience the squirrels at the course will never forget. On a side note, why doesn't someone invent a sport where you chase squirrels using a golf cart? You could have a few trees in the middle of a large field so the squirrels would have a safe haven they could climb. Players would be armed with balls they could throw in the trees to try to coax the squirrels down. Each golf cart would include a driver and a marksman on the side who could throw the balls and attempt to swing at the critters with a nine iron. JK Rowling's Quidditch premise is sounding pretty lame in comparison, huh?

I learned today that sports can actually be fun, even if you have no clue what you're doing. And I also invented the soon-to-be fastest growing sports sensation, Squirrel Death Tag. Clearly, I'm the most awesome person alive.