Golf Gypsy: And then....

And then, there are truly some bad days on the golf course, even with cool temperatures and a breeze blowing. After all, there are those moments when all a body can do is sigh and say, "Thank you Lord for this day." 

The Pro, Johnie Stapp.

Like my father, I am generally a fairly lucky golfer and a respectable putter, but few weeks ago, my golf game tested my strengths and sense of humor.  It began on a Monday at Lincoln Park West, after having "not" practiced a single shot and still unsure of my body's endurance after nearly six months of rehab.  First of all, my putter didn't have any zip or ping to it when I fluffed the ball.  In fact, the ball didn't even scare the hole after a putt, it just sat there 3-4 feet short of the hole, and so the putting continued to be feeble.  In order to laugh I initialed myself LWB, for Letty Weenie Butt! Nothing worked, 18 holes later and 36 putts I was frustrated.

But then, that's not all.  My tee shot landed in a divot, not once but four different times during the day.  Even the ladies in my threesome noted my bad luck.  Still I chuckled and reminded myself that somedays are like that, even in Australia.  (I'd still like to go to Australia to see if that is true.)  On number 10, a short par 3, my tee shot landed in the water and mud filled bunker.  Hump, I slammed it out leaving my glasses and clothes pock marked with muddy sand. After the shot, my ball wasn't on the putting surface, so I could not clean it before I putted it back onto the green.  It is interesting how a ball rolls when it is caked with mud!  After five shots, the ball gave up and went in the hole.  Imagine my relief.  

A few holes later we came to a large water hole that only required a easy rescue club over the water and onto the green, except the dry land between the green and the water's edge was packed with gaggle of geese, honking and eating the lush green grass or bugs??  As I swung through the shot,

Canada Goose lurking near the water.

I happened to look up early to make sure I didn't hit a goose. I watched and then screamed the ball over the water's edge, And Then ...I hit a goose, right in the wing.  Ouch, I cried, and the poor goose went wobble walking toward the safety of the rough.  The day ended, and I realized I had paid my bad luck dues.  The next day I rallied, and improved my putting by nine strokes.  I smiled, and thought of dad.  He taught me well; that you must take the bad luck with the good.  

Luck returned the next week when I volunteered to help the Women's Oklahoma Junior Girls Golf

Championship at Southern Hills.  I was back in my element of being with children who were passionate about learning the game of golf.  I'm so thankful to have enjoyed sixty plus years of golfing moments and the amazing people I've met along the way.  

"Beans" Factor golfer.

To my friends along the way Salute! and as the shirt says, "Kiss my putt."  


*Letty Stapp Watt
historian and storyteller