Pre-Write+1

Pre-Write 1

“CRACK”, says the metal club face. A pure white ball soars from green to crisp blue, then back to green. Pines, fresh cut grass the occasional flower waft in and out of each nostril, in no hurry to leave. A slow approach to a new spot brings blissful peace; absence of all thought. Another less audible “ crack ” sounds, as I chip the ball up a hill. In a slow saunter, which symbolizes so much more than a score, the ball drops into the darkest depths of the hole. I smile; Chip-ins are not a common occurrence in the game of golf. I remember the first time I ever golfed. I was with my aunts in New Jersey. They decided because it was such a nice day we should do something outside rather than sit in front of an insipid television. While we driving out, I rapidly became exited. I had seen pro golfers like Tiger Woods in magazines and like most children, I wished to emulate what I had seen. It was quite possibly one of the worst experiences of my life. It was far too difficult to hit that little ball with those little clubs, there were no trees (and this is New Jersey!),and it was too hot. The highlight of my entire trip was observing the carp in the pond. I now realize I may have been too young at the time, to appreciate the eloquent and complex yet simple game. Golf has a lot to do with patience, and patience has a lot to do with life. Although I may have detested my first golf experience, I knew under the right conditions there was a chance I could enjoy the game. I remember the first time I had fun golfing. I was back in Colorado and working at Columbine Country Club. It was a slow day and a bunch of caddies decided to go golf the Par 3 course. We picked up a few irons and walked over. I saw nature and people in harmony for the first time. The way polite conversation flowed encouraged a sense of serenity. From then on I played when ever I could find the time. I continued caddying not just for the money (although that didn’t hurt) but for the pleasure of being outside. Golfing became my escape. Now I stand here, driver in hand, looking out at the splendor of nature once more. The sun decides to dip just into the mountains, turning the sky from a watery blue to brilliant fiery reddish- orange. I pull back and release with all of my controllable force. The ball shoots through the air, straight as an arrow 317 yards before it finally comes to a halt. A good drive is a perfect appetizer, a warm handshake, an intriguing first page to a book. Without it you cannot enjoy what is to come. I venture out into a new hole, a new world to find my ball and continue my journey. Geese litter the fairway and add the obnoxious sounds of nature to the playlist of the day. I take a deep breath, filling my mouth with the taste of sweet blossoms, and evaluate my next shot. I pull a 6-Iron out of my bag, line up my stance, take a practice shot, and swing. I watch as my shot hooks right into the water. “Ker-pluNCK”! I remember a saying. It goes: “a bad day on the golf course is better than a good day at work”. I pray this saying is true, for if it is, I am destined to only experience good days.