Obviously, I have issues.
Up early before the newspaper delivery man, preparing for a practice round ahead of my debut next week at the British Open. Paired with Rory and Phil, I plan on playing a ball control offense keeping that poor excuse for a golf course from gobbling up excessive strokes on my nickel. When I hold that Claret jug over my head on Sunday afternoon, I will be modest and thank everyone who helped me make this day possible.
Back State-side this morning, I am seriously considering blogging each shot in my tune up round this morning. Live blogging Bob on the golf course. Now that is a winning idea and already I wonder how it extends to tennis. I can see it now in my head: Bob’s tee shot finds the bunker. Bob hits the lip of the bunker. Bob still in the bunker. Bob remains in the bunker. Bob dies of heat stroke after racking the bunker.
Ok, let’s just get one thing straight: that isn’t happening today. I will use perfect technique on all of my bunker shots today, remembering exactly the proper ball position, not to move my legs, to pretend there is a dollar bill under the my ball, to keep the club face open, to hit exactly 2 inches behind the ball, to follow thru, to enjoy the one shot in golf where you don’t have to hit the ball, to spray the sand all the way to kingdom come, to actually hope the ball goes into the trap instead of a gnarly lie, to think I am on a beach vacation.
I am so ready for today and next week that I’m going to Delta’s website to buy some additional tickets for my entourage to follow me at the Open (please see my previous post on Delta). I plan to let many of you, my faithful reader(s), also have a chance to join my British delegation. You must continue to read actively, however. I know who you are (love you, Mom).
Time to go lace up the ol’ golf shoes. I’ll be back…tomorrow. Enjoy your Sunday.
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