The Puny Pundit

Musings of a big guy with small thoughts.

I Love Golf Too Much (Part 3)

Two years ago I became the proud owner of my first set of golf clubs.  Ever since I was 13 I used other people’s clubs.  For 15 years I was using my brother’s club because my dad never bought me a set.  He bought my brother two sets.  Not sure why that is, but I think I’m ok with that arrangement now.  Anyways…I get my first set.  I can’t tell you how excited I was.  I took a picture of them and made it my phone’s wallpaper.  I would sit in my office just staring at how beautiful they were.

Well one night my wife said she needed a hand with the laundry.  She said all she needed for me to do was to bring down the baskets containing the dirty clothes and that she would take care of the rest.  I go upstairs and saw 6 baskets of dirty clothes.  I want to go back to looking at my golf clubs so I decide to stack three baskets on top of each other so that I could make it in two trips.  Well our home has wood floors all throughout the house and I was wearing socks.

On the way down my foot slips.  Three baskets go flying into the air.  I fall down trying to brace the fall with my hands.  My hand goes in a direction that was not intended by the design God gave it.  I was in a lot of pain not to mention my back and neck were affected by the impact.  My wife runs over and asks if I am ok.  I am yelling in pain.  The first thing I do when I get up is I put my hands together like I am holding a golf club.  I wanted to see if would be able to hold a golf club.  The pain so great and the injury so severe I knew golf was gone.  I yelled, “No!!!!!”

My wife was half laughing half worried.  Her laughter wasn’t due to the fact that she thought I was funny.  Her laughter was a result of her thinking that I was insane.  Well, I found out that I damaged my joints in two places and had a spiral fracture on my ring finger that took 4 months to heal.  I didn’t get to play with my clubs for 4 months.  It was the most painful 4 months of my life.

As the title says, I love golf too much.

PS: Ever since that injury I walk very slowly down the stairs holding the rails and put my socks on downstairs now.

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I Love Golf Too Much (Part 2)

Yesterday I shared a story about how golf makes me a terrible husband. Today is a story about how golf helps me to be a good person…but still makes me a crappy husband.

When I play golf (which is about once a month), I get real excited. I put out the clothes I am gonna wear the next day like I used to do on the first day of school. I clean my clubs. Sometimes I even clean older golf balls. I do a little research on the golf course I am gonna tear up. BTW…when I say tear up I mean literally not figuratively. Golf superintendents hate people like me because I make a course look like a minefield that has been activated.

I don’t do this anymore but up until a year ago I also went grocery shopping to buy vitamin water, bananas, and sandwich material for me and my playing partners. So I wake up at 4:30am to make sandwiches for my playing partners, which is extreme behavior because I am not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination. I made ham and cheese sandwiches and pb&j sandwiches. I bagged each one into ziplock bags placing them in a separate paper bags with a banana, vitamin water, and granola bar. As I finish the last one I look up and see my wife who is standing by the kitchen door. She is shaking her head and says, “What the…Oh my…Wow…This is just…Wow. Have you ever done this for your own children?”

What could I possibly say to that? Btw…if you are judging me right now, let me just say for the record that I have made sandwiches for my children plenty of times. Never in the morning or at the expense of my sleep but I have. I am not a total loser. Just a partial one.

So I said, “It’s not how it looks. It’s meaningless. It’s just this one time. It will never happen again.” I threw every cliche at her that a man would give when he cheats on his wife. Then I told her I had to go because I didn’t want to be late for our tee time. Like I said yesterday, I know in hindsight how bad this story is. I really do. But as I said yesterday, love makes you do crazy things. Look I am not saying I love golf more than my family. I’m just saying, you know, what I’m saying.

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I Love Golf Too Much (Part 1)

Two weeks ago my brother and I made plans to play golf.  These days I have been taking Thursday as my day off from church so we were set to play.  Every Wednesday we host a small group from our church that meets at our home for dinner, discussion, and prayer.  Every Wednesday we have to clean the house and prepare food (which these days means ordering take-out).  The day before my golf outing, my wife was doing the dishes, vacuuming the house, putting away laundry, setting the table, sweeping the floors, cleaning the bathroom, etc.

What was I doing?  I was outside cleaning my golf clubs with my son.  I would rinse the clubs and then use my handy brush to clean the clubs.  Then I would rinse again, hand the club to my son who was supposed to have the next club ready to hand me while he would dry them off.  I got a little upset with him because he wasn’t drying them thoroughly.  So we switched.  He rinsed, I brushed, he rinsed, I dried.  The problem was he thought it was fun to play with the water so he kept spraying water everywhere which really annoyed me.

I have 12 clubs so it took awhile to clean each one.  Some clubs required double the cleaning.  After about an hour I come back into the house with my son.  I give my wife my golf towel and I ask her to wash it before my golf game the next day.  I go to the sofa and I start watching the golf channel to get some last minute tips.  She walks by and says, “You have no conscience!”

I replied, “What?”

She said, “I have been getting the house ready for our guests while you and your son ignore me and the house so you can clean your golf clubs?”

I replied, “What?  What are you saying?  Are you saying you need help?”

My wife says, “Yes that would be nice.”

I yell, “#3!!!!  Come downstairs and help your mother clean the house!”

I wish I could tell you that this story isn’t true but unfortunately for my wife, it is.  I know it is wrong in hindsight but at the moment I couldn’t understand.  What can I say?  Love makes you do stupid things.

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