LPGA in my case stands for: Little People Golfing Awfully
I love to play golf. It's now my one main hobby since I got too old and slow and soft and wimpy to play soccer anymore. I would rather have it be me against ball than me against Sweeper, Keeper or that errant blade of grass that I tend to trip over.
If it were up to me, I'd play golf every day. I don't have enough people who can take 6 hours away from wife, husband, babies, jobs to play as much as I want to so I usually hit Langston Golf Course early on the nice weekends solo. Langston was one of the first African American Golf Courses - built in 1939. Very historic. And I love to play there because I am usually the only white chick who shows up to play so I can sweet talk my way onto the back 9 to avoid getting paired up with creepy people (this could be a whole blog entry on its own). Anyway, the starters are all old retired guys who call me "baby". I don't need a staid, snooty Country Club with a dress code - I just need Charlie to greet me with "You playing 9 or 18 today, baby?" and I am good to go. They also deep fry their hotdogs. If you have never had a deep fried hot dog you must try it at least once in your life. Crispy, drippy, goodness.
Anyway, I did find some old friends to play with last week. And playing with friends means playing with booze.
Since I don't normally drink when I play solo, I didn't realize how beneficial Bud Light could be to my game. I have been reviewing my round and have come to the conclusion there that there seems to be a perfect amount of alcohol that should drink when I play golf...Unfortunately, I just don't know exactly how much that is.
Let's review my round:
Hole #1 - Sober - ball goes backwards
I have never seen this before but I made contact on my second shot after a beautiful drive off the tee onto the fairway...and the ball took off a few feet in front of me, hit the ground and spun three feet farther back from where it started. I am amazing.
Middle holes - A very nice beer buzz - Par, Birdie
Hmmm, I may be onto something here. Relaxed muscles and the attitude of "who cares where my ball goes, the beer cart is on its way!" seems to work well for my swing.
Last hole - Post-switch from beer to a vodka - Ball goes in water.
I picked up my 6 iron TWICE by mistake and hit with it cause I thought it was the 9 iron. I was sitting the best 9 holes of my life prior to that little mis-understanding between me and my clubs. I need a caddy and his name may or may not be Captain Morgan.
I will have to study this more to come to a proper conclusion of the perfect amount of booze I need to break 100. It willl be a long hard road but I am commited to it.