Friday, 13 March 2015


Balls for the sand traps. Balls for the water hazards. Balls for the rough. Yup! To play golf at my level of expertise (choke), it takes balls.......a copious supply of balls! So prone am I to land in the water, that a dear friend once suggested I store flippers and mask in my golf bag. 

It wasn't until 2010 when Jim and I played "at" a golf game in Arizona that we decided we would like to persue the sport a bit more. The operational definition here for me is "a bit more". Lessons at the Golf Dome in Markham and coaching at Arizona's Rancho Mañana ensued.  

Wasn't it Phyllis Diller who once said, "The reason a pro tells you to keep your head down is so you can't see him laughing. I love to relate the tale of the Rancho Mañana golf pro, who after analyzing my drive said, Mrs. Lockett, even if we hadn't discussed it, I would know that you are a Canadian.
Chest puffing, head swelling, and eagerly anticipating the compliment, I sweetly said, Oh?
Yes, he smiled, because your drive is like a hockey slapshot.
So much for a career on the if.

Viewing the sport on TV, golf appears deceptively simple. Ha! Not only is the game complicated, for me, my battle with that little white ball is a mind game, a matter of concentration. Strings of horrible shots are interspersed with rare shots of brilliance which occur only when I concentrate and mentally repeat my coach's words. I play my best when I relax and remind myself that it is only a silly game.

True golf devotees would be horrified, but what I enjoy most are golf cart moments of conversation and laughter with my husband, sister or good friends.  Whether it is the rolling hills of Uxbridge or breathtaking vistas of my favourite Rancho Mañana Golf Course, early morning tee offs or twilight rounds, being out in the fresh air is what it is all about.

And so I am in countdown, looking forward to my battle with that little white ball, time with my husband and dear friends, and Arizona's incomparable vistas. Don't worry! I have balls!

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