I sometimes wonder how much I actually love playing golf - a game which essentially means focusing to wack a white ball into a 3-inch hole using different sticks! And then repeat 18 times of that, which easily takes up half a day.
For the numerous sports I have endured, I think it is safe to conclude I loathe golf. There's nothing more depressing than playing a terrible round of golf in which you were really excited about.
The harder I wanted to hit good shots and shoot for lower scores, the worse I played. The problem was, no matter what method or gimmick you tried, no matter how much money you spent on clubs and lessons, no matter how much you practised, you still missed a shot or two at worse, sliced and hooked at best!
Most frustrating.
And yet do you know what frustrates me even more? It is the fact that I don't want to give up!
Reason being: I just can't quite get myself to accept I am never going to be good at hitting a tiny ball and see it flying in the air over a long stretch of field, calling penalties on myself every now and then, before it finally goes into a hole!
I know this is reading more like a whiny diary entry than one of my normal blogs but I have a feeling every golfer has been here before. I just need to get it out of my head, it probably wont repeat.
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