REVENGE OF A GOLF WIDOW

NOTES OF CONCERN…
… Jackson Blair

REVENGE OF A GOLF WIDOW

Disclaimer: everything to which I refer is fiction. The piece is not meant to offend anyone and all names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Events of recent days have presented me with a wonderful opportunity.

There are books galore on the game of golf. I thought there was nothing new to cover in the realm of chasing the little white ball around the course.

WRONG!

Now there is an entirely new concern for golfers. For many years golfers joked about “golf widows” as they bellied up to the bar at the 19th hole. The new concern could morph into a concern for women golfers but for the moment I am dealing just with the guys!

The “golf widow” was benign. She complained from time to time as you headed to the garage to get the car and the clubs but once you were out of the driveway she was off to shop or meet friends for lunch. It was all sort of scripted. You golfed. She needed to pretend she wished you stayed home. She shopped and lunched. You needed to think of her as pining away in front of the TV until you returned from your manly outing. You fed on one another’s fantasies.

Over the past few days a new danger for golfers has come to my attention. While it might well be a version of the “golf widow” I think all will agree that it is more a dangerous variation in type.

Let me explain it to you in terms you golfers will understand.

All your golfing life you have been concerned about the LIE.

You are so consumed with your golf that you have permitted that word in golf terminology to invade your home life. When your wife accuses you of the big LIE she is not talking about a little white ball primly resting of beautiful green grass.

As you know from the course, your LIE is obvious to everyone. As in golf, as in life your LIE is obvious to everyone, especially the wife.

When she asks you to tell her the truth about that Bimbo named Muffy she is sure you are dating, she is not going to believe it when you tell her Muffy is just your CADDIE. While it may be true that Muffy is engaged in carrying an old bag full of balls around, your wife only wants to be certain you aren’t the old bag she is ADDRESSING.

I don’t think there are any real good times for this discussion between you and your wife but I am pretty sure I can tell you not to engage in it at 2AM. That is definitely now the bewitching hour. No 2AM golf discussions with the bride.

You are caught in a SAND TRAP of Saint Andrew’s proportions. Your explanation of the LIE didn’t take. You might try and take a MULLIGAN but I think it might be best to just tough it out. The BALL IS IN PLAY and you have a lot to lose here. No matter how suave you think you are, you are an AMATEUR pal.

There was a HAZARD in your play and you ignored it. The HAZARD was that your wife might find out what you were up to.

You PLAYED THROUGH.

Now you are looking for a BUNKER, any BUNKER, so you can hunker down and pray. You have become a SANDTRAP Christian.

The wife is looking at the ALIGNMENT and TEEING up your ball. She is beginning to take a BACKSWING with your DRIVER. There are not a lot of options for you here. Since she might employ an EXPLOSION SHOT right from your very own bunker. You decide it might be the better part of valor to head for your CART.

Why not? You love your cart. It is big and beautiful and looks a lot like a Cadillac Escalade. Your mind is running on Exxon. You have a “tiger in your tank” as the old advertisements used to proclaim.

So you jump out of your hunker in the BUNKER and head to your CART. As you mount the driver’s seat you notice that the wife is in close pursuit and waving the very large HEAD of your driver in the air.

You don’t know if she is hoping for a BIRDIE or a BOGEY but you are determined that since she did not yell FORE you need to watch out for flying clubs or balls.

As a matter of extra safety, you lock all your doors.

Important lesson: locked doors are not a safeguard against a beautifully placed DRIVE, like against your supposedly unbreakable windows.

The wife takes a good BACKSWING and keeps her eyes on the ball, which in this case looks amazingly like your head. Her FOLLOW THROUGH is superb and the window shatters into small pieces.

Your foot hits the pedal and your CART, which is in reverse, hits a fire hydrant and CONTINUES TO PLAY THROUGH to the closest tree.

The wife is now in the cart and ADDRESSING your bleeding head.
She doesn’t like the ALIGNMENT so pulls your sorry form out of the seat and onto the grass.

You try to tell her that you are on GROUND UNDER REPAIR and that she is not really following MATCH PLAY rules, but she is looking for an iron so she can take a great second shot and may be actually looking forward to the BACK NINE.

As you fade in and out of consciousness she reminds you that your LIE is not all that good, as she reaches for a THREE WOOD.

Fortunately, your neighbors hear the commotion. The wives are not sure what is happening but the fellows have a “knowing look” on their faces. They have heard your stories about Muffy at the bar. They are the ones who decide it would be safer to stay inside and just call “911.”

You are not usually out playing in the grass at 2AM so you are surprised how many amateur photographers are around just waiting to take a picture of you and of your GOLF CART.

As the days move forward and your medical needs are attended you keep running into people, with pens and paper, who want to learn about your LIE.

Things are not too happy in your CLUBHOUSE. You cannot drive your CART. Your GOLFING BUDDIES are ignoring your plight. Your wife is out shopping and dining and she took all the credit cards.

Your life looks pretty grim.

Oh well, there will always be a Muffy.

So today my friends we introduce a new word to the language of golf.

You can START play with a MULLIGAN and you can FINISH play with a MUFFY.

But in between- always be mindful of the LIE.