“Golf… is the infallible test. The man who can go into a patch of rough alone, with the knowledge that only God is watching him, and play his ball where it lies, is the man who will serve you faithfully and well.”
― P.G. Wodehouse
Playing golf again today.
(No, I won’t write anything about it like I did last time when I wrote about golf. Sometimes I get carried away and I admit that what I wrote was a bit bawdy, may have been in poor taste. But you’ve got to admit it was clever word play. Or maybe you won’t.)
As a result of the drought our golf courses are stressed, especially our muni which now has extremely narrow, somewhat well-watered, fairways; anything but a perfect shot will land in the rough (read: hardpan) and the sand traps have the consistancy of concrete.
So, to compensate (lest our handicaps skyrocket), my eldest son and I are not too fussy about repositioning our ball no closer to the hole but a few inches (feet) to better ground (where it would be more like a normal lie if there wasn’t a drought and the course watered normally).
Admittedly, this is against the rules, a sin in the golfing world where one is expected to play a ball wherever it lies.
But, if I fudge a little, whose to judge me?
The others I’m playing with?
No money involved, no trophies or titles, so they can just play however they like and leave me to play however I like.
By the God who sees all?
My God is an understanding God, a God who forgives unconditionally by acknowledging there are sometimes extenuating circumstances that allow exceptions to the rules.
But in case I’ve got him wrong, I invite him to play a round with us with the course conditions as they are.
So long as he leaves his godly powers elsewhere.