The Art of The Little White Ball

Once upon a time, there was this little ball. And all he wanted to do was to go into this little hole. It seems very simple. It looks pretty easy on the tele (that's for you Andy). But, NOOOOOOOOOO sir. Mr. "I love playing all sports" found a very interesting challenge. I mean, I knew it would be difficult, but I didn't think it would be THIS difficult. Mark (Armstrong..shout out to Iowa) is shooting in the 80's and I am still in the $@&*'s. I actually have two really good teachers in my dad and Rod (my father in-law). But, like any good sport, it is not something you pick up over night.

It's also my observation that golf brings out a unique side to most people's personality. Little did I know the openness that the little white ball reveals. Who would have known how emotinal my dad would get during a round of golf? I have already decided that taking up golf is worth it just to play with my dad.

It's a simple game really and I am not even good enough to talk trash yet, which makes me feel way below average. I've also learned that in golf, you have to pick and choose when you talk trash. Example: guy tees off and skulls the ball which doesn't get past the ladies tee. This is not a good time to make fun. It seems to me that after 3-4 holes you start making cracks about overall scores and the number of 3-putts the other guy has had etc. (or you throw pink tees and markers throughout the rest of the game as Paul supposedly does (yes Megan, he's real). It's a finer point to the game, but something that with practice I think I will be able to master....the art of talking trash on the golf course that it. The only problem is that my game has to be a heck of a lot better before I can even begin my favorite art.