Ok, I have gotten tired of seeing Ricardo Montalban's pecs on the top of my blog, so even if I have to contrive a blog entry, I'll do whatever necessary to scoot it downward. RIP, Mr Roarke.
Today, I played a sport that is fairly new to me. My middle son has gotten me into disc golf. I used to laugh at the hippie/stoner/nerds playing at the river when we used to run the section between 45th and 38th street on Riverside. Being a "real" golfer, I found it hilarious that these Frisbee dudes had a "driver" disc, a "fairway" disc, a "wedge" or approach disc, and a "PUTTER!!!" This, all carried neatly in a golf bag, many of which were manufactured by Golfsmith. These athletes toted their heavy bags with 20-30 discs, golf towels, and who knows what else around and endeavored to break par. Now, I am one of them! I am the proud owner of 5 discs, although I only use 4 of them. I meander my way around the golf course and strive to better my score, while slinging mediocre drives, crafting curving shots around trees, making a par every now and then, and an occasional birdie! I'm hooked.
The sight of the 18th hole on a late winter afternoon makes a cold beer taste even better. Of course, there are differing degrees of difficulty on the course. A strong wind just ruins my game, although some of the better disc golfers seem to not have much trouble at all with the wind. My favorite type of course is one with as many trees as possible.
That makes the game more of a shot-making challenge, and makes my lack of distance less of a liability.
Plus, it is much easier to find an errant disc than it is an errant golf ball.
The sound of a disc that finds the basket, clinking against the chains is a poetic sound indeed. Much like the sound of a Titleist ProV1 falling into a cup, a long putt in disc golf is a thing of beauty.
At one time in my life, I thought I had found the meaning of life on the golf course. (As in Jack Nicklaus type golf.) At times, I am sure that the secret of enjoying life is somewhere on the trails I've ran. (Still think the secret is there.) And now, I admit, there may be some answers to be found while out tossing discs.
Today, I played a sport that is fairly new to me. My middle son has gotten me into disc golf. I used to laugh at the hippie/stoner/nerds playing at the river when we used to run the section between 45th and 38th street on Riverside. Being a "real" golfer, I found it hilarious that these Frisbee dudes had a "driver" disc, a "fairway" disc, a "wedge" or approach disc, and a "PUTTER!!!" This, all carried neatly in a golf bag, many of which were manufactured by Golfsmith. These athletes toted their heavy bags with 20-30 discs, golf towels, and who knows what else around and endeavored to break par. Now, I am one of them! I am the proud owner of 5 discs, although I only use 4 of them. I meander my way around the golf course and strive to better my score, while slinging mediocre drives, crafting curving shots around trees, making a par every now and then, and an occasional birdie! I'm hooked.
The sight of the 18th hole on a late winter afternoon makes a cold beer taste even better. Of course, there are differing degrees of difficulty on the course. A strong wind just ruins my game, although some of the better disc golfers seem to not have much trouble at all with the wind. My favorite type of course is one with as many trees as possible.
That makes the game more of a shot-making challenge, and makes my lack of distance less of a liability.
Plus, it is much easier to find an errant disc than it is an errant golf ball.
The sound of a disc that finds the basket, clinking against the chains is a poetic sound indeed. Much like the sound of a Titleist ProV1 falling into a cup, a long putt in disc golf is a thing of beauty.
At one time in my life, I thought I had found the meaning of life on the golf course. (As in Jack Nicklaus type golf.) At times, I am sure that the secret of enjoying life is somewhere on the trails I've ran. (Still think the secret is there.) And now, I admit, there may be some answers to be found while out tossing discs.
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