Whack a Ball in a Gopher Hole

It is that time of year again. The flowers bloom, the grass greens up, the days are warmer, the nights are shorter and I am out in search of perfection. I play that silly sport where you take a bunch of crooked sticks and try to get this tiny, hard, pock marked ball in a hole, while avoiding sand, water, trees, and high grass. It is my obsession. I started playing out as something I could do with my Dad to make him happy. Now I am hooked. I think about my swing. I work on my short game. I look at all the golf magazines. I wear the clothing. I watch it on TV. I spend countless hours at the driving range where the guys at the counter know me by my first name. I am like Norm from Cheers walking in there. I take lessons. I watch the Golf Channel. But what can I do? "Golfus Ergo Sum = I golf therefore I am." JP out....