Golf has been on my mind quite a bit recently, displacing some things I usually think about, like, “I really should go on a diet”, and “Mm, wouldn’t a cheeseburger be delicious right now?” The reason golf has forced its way into my frontal lobe is Bryan Fryklund’s new book, The Golf Fanatic’s Guide To Hawaii. (In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that Bryan is my son-in-law, and that my daughter Jen Reeder took the photos that adorn practically every page of the book.)
While Bryan was writing the text, I offered a few suggestions. He wisely ignored them, and the result is a terrific book that is drawing a lot of attention from the media and from golf fanatics at large. I have thoughtfully supplied a link to his blog in case you want to learn more. You’re welcome.
Personally, I do not qualify as a golf fanatic, mostly because I am not a good golfer. That is not false modesty — I have many witnesses who can testify to the truth of that statement. In the right frame of mind, though, golf can be fun. I find it helps if at least one of my playing partners is as lousy as I am.
On one occasion years ago, I was fortunate enough to be playing with an acquaintance — let’s call him Tim (since that’s his name) — who was new to the game. He’s probably a lot better now, but back then, by the end of a round Tim would be hoarse from yelling “fore!” He hit the ball a long way, but rarely straight — he was Strong and Wrong, you might say.
Tim lined up a tee shot and gave the ball a prodigious whack. It immediately headed right. Way right. It soared over trees, out of bounds and out of sight. We all stared off in the general direction this mammoth blast had gone. Our playing partner, Nick LeRose, finally broke the silence. “That ball,” he remarked, “landed in the yard of someone who doesn’t even know he lives near a golf course.”
If you have a favorite golf story, feel free to share it here. Oh, and do yourself a favor — check out Bryan’s book.