As the 2005 U.S. Open gets under way today I've come to the conclusion that I love the game of golf.
I'm not the type of golf fan that sits in front of the TV for four straight days glued to the coverage hoping that the golfers I have in my Major's Pool do well. It's more personal than that.
Sure I'll be tuning in from time to time to see who's doing what and especially how our Canadian boys are doing but mostly I'll watch Sportscentre in the evening to get the highlights of the days events.
Last night at my usual Wednesday night Men's League round in Wooler, I had an epiphany and came to the realization that I MUST love golf. We were about 10 holes into our round of 18 when the rain started. I'm not talking about a shower or drizzle or a sprinkle. No, I'm talking about a Monsoon or torrential downpour.
In all my years as a golfer (about 7 years), I've never golfed in anything like this before. Usually if it's raining so hard that the umbrella does nothing but give me something to hold in my right hand, I can be found heading for cover. Not last night. We were on the 17th hole in Wooler on the forward white tees and I couldn't even find the flag on the green, less than 100 yards away. We were blinded by the onslaught of precipitation yet we went ahead and made our shots.
Somehow, mine did find the green but was a mile away from the hole. We finished the hole and moved to the 18th tee.
By this time I was beyond wet. My shirt had become like a second skin, sticking to my body with a suction effect. Despite the talk of quitting, we went ahead and played the hole. The rain hadn't let up at all and everything was soaked from my head to my toes. Once again, somehow with a drenched golf glove I managed to make it on to the green with my tee shot and pared the hole.
Luckily by the time we moved from there to the clubhouse the rain came to a sudden halt and the sun came through the clouds. I stopped by my car, changed shirts and put on a new golf glove and we continued to finish the round just as it was getting too dark to see the ball.
After persevering through that monsoon, I realized that I must love the game as any man in his right mind would have called it quits. I was reminded of the Minister in the Caddyshack movie having the round of his life and didn't quit until the bolt of lightning struck him down on the last hole. Like him, I was having a good round and had to continue. Of course, if I was having a bad round instead of a good one, I probably would have been the first one to find shelter.
