I started watching golf a long time ago, because my dad
has always watched it. Along with my mom, the three of us would sit on the
couch rooting for Tiger. Then that whole “incident” happened, and I jumped
ship. My parents continue to remain loyal to him, but you can find me cheering for
Lefty on Sundays.
Anyway, I loved watching golf so much that I woke up one
morning a few years ago and said, “I think I’ll become a golfer.” Easier said
than done. That same morning, I went to Dick's and bought myself
a set of clubs because 1) they were on sale, and 2) they were pink. Since I'd
never touched clubs before, I decided that I should take lessons.
Well, by the end of my second lesson, the instructor said, “Don’t come back
until you can hit the ball three times in a row.” I know it might've sounded
mean, but I'd like to think that he meant well. That summer, I never hit the ball on three consecutive swings, so I didn't go back. The
following year, I continued to go to the driving range, and eventually took
lessons with another (cuter) instructor. Now, I can say that I do make
contact with the ball almost every time... but where the ball actually ends up is
a completely different story.
So,
it’s only fitting that my next “thing” would be to go to the Travelers
Championship in Cromwell. My dad and I went this afternoon when I got out of
work. But, about an hour after we got there, they suspended play for 45 minutes
due to weather. They resumed play for about another hour until the weather took
a turn for the worse, and play was stopped for the rest of the afternoon. We
spent the next 2 hours stuck in traffic, doing some father-daughter bonding. The added bonus: I got a free reusable tote and poncho courtesy of
Travelers. I'll be back for the final round on Sunday with my friend, Lauren. Guess we'll have to see what that will bring!
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