Keep your head down. Rule number one. Doesn’t even matter which sport you choose. Keep your head down. Working on your slap shot in ice hockey? Best way to mess it up, lift your head. Baseball. Same story when you’re swinging a bat. Heck, even bowling. Pick up your head too soon to see where you tossed that ball and it screws up your delivery, and the ball heads over there somewhere. Soccer, yep.
But nowhere does it wreck your day faster than when you don’t keep your head down while playing golf. Keep your head down and the clubface strikes the ball squarely, and it sails out there so nice, right down the middle of the fairway, and well over that pretty little pond of water they put RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE TEE, just to mess with your brain. Lift your head too soon, to make sure you cleared the water, and the club head rises up just enough to tap the ball on its top, which pops the ball into the ground, then straight into the air, and then plop into the water about forty feet in front of you. Again.
I hated that part. It’s one of the reasons I gave up golf. One of several reasons. We always kept an old cut up ball in our bag for that hole with the pond, because when, not if, it went into the drink, it didn’t hurt as much. I never hit the ball off the tee properly on that water hole. Cause water messes with a golfer’s mind, and often wins. It forced me to not kept my head down, and never hit the shot right.
Did you see the Players Championship last weekend? I did. It’s one of those golf tournaments I actually watch, as opposed to sleeping through, because of the beauty of the place, and the vicious challenge it presents to some very good golfers. Ya win this one, and you have beaten not only a field of the very best, but also your own mind. Cause every single hole on this course has a water hazard. In fact, the 17th hole doesn’t even have a fairway. It’s a lake, with a tee area over here, and the green over there, and the green is an island.
Give me an unlimited number of days, and an unlimited number of old cut up balls, and I might hit the 17th green once. The odds would be similar to winning the lottery, or a bunch of monkeys typing Shakespeare. They’d be hauling me off to the loony bin long before it actually happened.
Now, most pro golfers can consistently hit a green from 145 yards. Even a tiny green like the 17th. That’s why they are pro golfers and I spay cats. But the crowd gathers at this hole and stays there all day, kinda like folks go to NASCAR races. They won’t admit it, but they want to see folks crash. And they will. The 17th is a dream crusher.
On Sunday, the course picked off one leader after another as the afternoon passed. Many in the field found water at 17, just as the finish of the course beckoned, as that is the plan of this place. You could see the strain on the players’ faces. So when the tournament ended in a tie, with the old warrior David Toms and the apparently emotion free K.J. Choi headed into a playoff, of course they started at the 17th. The heartbreak hole.
Toms sank a long birdie putt on 18 that brought him even with Choi, and when Choi sank his par putt, sealing the tie, they met on the green, shook hands, smiled, and wished each other luck in the sudden death playoff. Pretty decent of them considering there was about a zillion dollars riding on the outcome. They drew straws for the honor of teeing off first at 17, smiling and cordial. Both hit safe shots to the center of the green. Both putted to near the pin. Then Toms missed his par putt, and Choi sank his. The tournament was over, and Choi had won.
So of course, Choi danced around and strutted in front of Tomes, shouting, sneering and gloating, and slamming his fist into his chest. And Toms ran up on him and sucker punched him, then stripped off his shirt as he walked off the green, posturing for the crowd cause he was so proud of himself for winning the only game that counted to him….the game of show-up-manship. Typical end to a tournament.
No wait, I’ve gotten that one wrong. This was a golf tournament, not the NBA. I guess I just got confused between this ending and the finish of the Lakers/ Mavericks game the other day. Sorry. Anybody could make that mistake.
Actually, the golfers were gracious, in victory and defeat. It was good to watch.
Those NBA folks on the other hand, were an embarrassment to civilized folks. Two of the Lakers were thrown off the court for the cheap shots they took at their opponents once it became clear that they were gonna get beaten. The second one, a thug named Bynum, should have gone to jail, gone straight to jail, do not collect $200. Instead, they banned him for 5 games next season, and a few thousand bucks for taking off his shirt on the court, and then storming off the court. This is not even a slap on the wrist, but more like a little tickle.
But then this is the NBA. It features arguably the finest athletes in the world, who also happen to be some of the worst whiney ill behaved prima donnas on earth. What other sport would glorify the “dunk”, a version of scoring that these tall dudes have been doing since they were in 8th grade. The “dunk” is the simplest move in the game, ridiculously easy for tall folks with these skills, yet it is promoted at the signature event of these games. Announcers go nuts, wannabes in the crowd scream and cheer, and all for a move that is really intended to do nothing more than insult the defender, and undeservedly glorify the scorer.
Now, the offender and the offendee are both making multimillions of dollars to play this game, and they get paid win or lose, so there isn’t much in it for them other than the joy of insulting each other, or assaulting each other, if they don’t take the insult well. I went to a fight the other night, and an NBA game broke out. And with thugs like Bynum standing tall under the basket ready to commit felony assault, if you want to play these games you sure want to keep your head down, lest it roll further than the ball.
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