18 + 18 = 36

I played 36 holes yesterday. It was Bea’s idea. I’ve never played a back-to-back round. Bea said she used to do it often, during a seven-year stretch when she was “crazy” about golf and played almost every day. That was before she had to stay home with a kid. Now that her daughter’s graduated college and flown the nest, it’s back to golf like crazy. Like me, she’s recovering from a back injury, but last week she said she’s ready for 36.

We had a 10:04am tee time. It’s mostly older, retired people at the golf course in the morning, so we were paired with two men who looked like they had fought in WWI. The kind who wear saggy white undershirts and knee socks with sandals and just don’t give a darn anymore. After Bea and I teed off and they saw our drives roll down the fairway, one of them chortled, “Looks like we got ourselves a couple of ringers!”

The weather was supposed to be sunny with highs in the mid-70s. Instead it was overcast and in the high 60s and stayed that way all day. Plus, the greens were being aerated. For a $3 discount, we were treated to perforated greens sprinkled with sand. One benefit of the dot matrix was that occasionally it provided a putting line:

As for how I played, well, I rode the first round and shot a 98. I walked the second round and shot a 101. But I had more fun during the second 18 holes, when it was just me and Bea playing and we didn’t have to worry about the politeness and protocol of playing with strangers. If only I hadn’t shot that snowman on a par 3 and that bacon and egg on a par 5, I would have scored better too. It also would have helped if the greens weren’t riddled with holes.

The good news is Mike’s pitching and chipping lesson has already started to pay off, as evidenced by some of my 40-50 yard pitches that landed close to the pin:

After 36 holes and 8 hours at the golf course, I was pretty exhausted. The day went by so fast. Almost too fast. Golf is like that. When you're focused on chasing around a little ball, it's easy to lose track of time. And when you're not focused on your own ball, you're looking out for where your playing partners have hit, making sure you're not in their way, tending the flagstick, keeping a fast pace, and performing all the other niceties that make a round of golf civilized fun.

I do remember pausing at one point, when I was waiting for Bea to take a shot, and looking around to just breathe the fresh air and enjoy the scenery, at the center of which was a beckoning green.

 

At the end of the day, I was blissfully happy, but tired to the bone. I’m not sure I’d do it again, but I’d never say never!