Most men I know play golf. Most women I know can play golf, they would just rather be doing something else. I am one of those women. I am my biggest competition and my biggest critic on the golf course, giving that darned little white ball complete control over me. Sometimes it takes every ounce of restraint to not throw my club into the water after my ball. But, I know how much my boyfriend thoroughly loves this sport. Last year we went golfing together a handful of times and each time I was growly, uncoachable, and had very sore arms. Well, its that time of year again and he is scoping out memberships.
So I am planning ahead in case he asks me to play: I'll do a few pushups and stretches in preparation for all the swinging my arms will be doing. I'll get a new polo shirt, a hat and some sunscreen to protect my skin, and I think an ice cold beer might help me relax and just enjoy the time spent outdoors with my man. Its almost ironic that a sport with such beautiful scenery is supposed to improve my concentration skills. And if I ever decide to upgrade from my borrowed clubs I could go here and score some gently used equipment. Who knows, with a little patience, practice and prayer (ha!) I might be an alright golfer. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, though.
You've been tipped, J
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