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Wednesday's With My Ugly Twin

I sat enthroned in the center cubicle of the ladies locker room. I held my head in my hands. Outside the stall, I heard muffled voices.

"How was your golf game," one woman asked. How do you think it was," the next woman intoned, choking back the tears. Clearly, she was in agony. "Yesterday I shot an 84 including an out of bounds. Today I shot 106! It figures… today is Wednesday."

I have a good friend who is convinced that we all have an ugly twin. I agree with her. Predictably, my ugly twin makes herself known at the worst of times. For instance, I am not a clumsy person; yet I wind up spilling red wine on my hostesses’ family heirloom white tablecloth. I am the guest speaker at a luncheon. My talk is about how people have become increasing rude since the advent of cell phones. So what do you think happens just as I make my major point? Of course, my mobile phone squawks. Finally, just when I think I have the problem licked, my ugly twin rears her head almost every Wednesday.

Wednesday is the day that our golf club designates the morning for ladies day play. We all gather at some ungodly hour to have a competitive, yet friendly game of golf. It is an opportunity for people to widen their social horizons by meeting fellow golfers. Our club has taken in about 200 new members in the past two years, so Wednesday play offers the venue to meet new members.

The theory is valid. It just doesn’t happen to work out …in the real world… For the most part, lower handicappers are loath to play with high handicappers; while the higher handicappers quake with fear and embarrassment about playing with a single-digit player. It’s pretty much a given that someone will be unhappy or intimidated.

I make it a point to go to the driving range before the round begins. Invariably, I hit about 90% of my shots on the range perfectly. I then proceed to the putting green. With just a glance, I am able to determine the most subtle bend or break. I address the ball with authority, then sink 9 out of 10 putts from any distance! I am ready for the shot gun to announce the beginning of play.

Suddenly, much to my horror, I am back on the driving range! What’s so bad about that, you ask? Well, I’m on the first tee and the driving range is on my right. You got it, out of bounds. My hands tremble as I place another ball on the tee. It almost doesn’t matter what I do. Salvaging a bogey five would be a miracle. It’s more than likely that an ugly seven, or worse, a ‘snowman’ (8) will appear on my card.

I played some wonderful golf courses when we lived in Charleston, South Carolina. Invariably, I would arrive at a course I haven’t played before and begin on a hole somewhere in the middle. This gave me no idea of the configuration of the course. Starting out confused became a way of life.

In one season, every hole I started on seemed to be a short par three over water. I can club myself pretty well, so these holes, for me, would be either a pitching wedge or a nine iron. It didn’t matter what I did. The wedge would be short and in the water. For my next trick, I’d try the nine iron. Without fail, I’d hit this soaring shot that would wave at the flag as it went in the water over the back of the green.

Because I hate losing a new golf ball on its maiden voyage, I begin my embarrassing quest to see if I can fish it out of the water. I never got past the signs that warned, "please don’t feed the alligators." Duh. No problem there!

I used to pride myself on my ability to play to my handicap. That’s all I’ve ever wanted… not an unfair advantage, but to play to the best of my ability to the number the computer says I should be playing to. I succeeded, for the most part… except on Wednesdays.

An 82 the day before would turn into 104 on Wednesday. I suspect I need to take the remedial class on course management. I have to get over the terror I feel when I go out to play on Wednesday.

I have played this game long enough to understand the fundamentals. Sure, I would like to have a day when I drove the ball in the fairway, approached close to the pin and sank every putt within ten feet. While the game of golf is humbling, I would like to get through any Wednesday without being totally humiliated.

Yikes, it’s almost Wednesday again. I can’t decide if I want the try to links, or skip the whole thing and take my ugly twin to lunch.

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