But this is North Carolina, where golf is supposed to be a year-round game. Just not this year.
One day soon, the sun will shine, the thermometer will nudge near 60 and the wind will take a day off. And there won’t be a tee time to be found.
Until then, I’m tired of:
- Checking the seven-day forecast and seeing daily high temperatures that resemble my nine-hole scores;
- Spending time on the computer looking at Scotty Cameron putters instead of using one;
- Looking at brown grass;
- Hitting practice shots off of plastic grass. It’s nice plastic grass but it’s still plastic – and leaves green plastic skid marks on the bottom of your 8-iron;
- Eating soup at lunch in the grill room and wondering if it’s worth putting on four layers of clothes and my old mud-stained golf shoes to play nine holes just because…
- Watching enough golf on television to recognize Alex Prugh;
- And, Troy Merritt.
- Thinking about the stretching exercises I should probably be doing because they’re supposed to be good for me;
- Seeing commercials for ‘Being John Daly;’
- Telling the same golf stories because no one’s had a chance to warrant new ones;
- Waiting for Tiger Woods to return;
- ‘Carts On Path’ signs;
- Wondering whatever happened to my shorts;
- And my tan;
- Practicing my set-up in the garage in front of a mirror. (Okay, I don’t really do that but I’ve heard it helps);
- Feeling guilty about not playing through the casual water and cold weather like some guys I know;
- Washing my golf towel and calling it working on my game;
