"Golf is the closest game to the game we call life.
You get bad breaks from good shots; you get good breaks from bad shots
- but you have to play the ball where it lies."
- Bobby Jones
Ever since my hockey career started coming to an injury plagued end I have been more and more intrigued about the game of golf. A mental and more personal sporting challenge. I will never tire of team sports, it's where my heart lies, yet the older I get the body takes a step back and the mind steps to the fore!
Having joined the local golf club and taken some lessons with the resident professional I am slowly making progress up the handicap ladder. There are so many aspects of the game that intrigue me. The only thing I need to be wary of is that I don't end up turning into one of those golf wankers. As far as cliche midlife crises go, becoming a golf twat has got to be right up there.
Golf is a bit like a good woman. It entices you with its splendour and lures you in with fresh excitement, only to take hold of your emotions and ensnare you with it's power. You spend way too much money on it and just when you start getting excited about your progress, it slaps you in the face and says, no Marnix, not today.
Nonetheless, my early mornings spent on the beautiful Frilford Heath Golf Course(s) will keep me coming back for more. My romance has only just begun...