Another Season in the Books

Another Season in the Books

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Area IV Agency on Aging

By DON WALTER

When the calendar reads October/November, my wife says I can be the grumpiest guy around. Golf season is ending, and I can’t handle it. 

Sure it happens every year about this time. You would think I’d learn to cope with it. I haven’t, and maybe never will. 

If I retire in a warmer climate some time, or learn to snowbird when the time comes, I’m sure it will be lifesaving for me and my wife! Until then I’ll continue to mope around thinking about all the great adventures the last summer brought on the golf course and how they have ended too soon. 

Last year’s ending was a real winner. I got to play on December 9th with my mom as my makeshift caddy. It was just warm enough to coax her out for about three or four holes, winter cap and all.

The end of a season also reminds me of all the things I did and didn’t accomplish. 

I competed in the Club Championship—well, I made a few long bomb putts. I surprised a betting partner with a smooth 72, but also couldn’t seem to get rid of that darned slice. I still fretted over three putts and even chunked a chip or two. 

I’m truly addicted to golf. What if I never get to play again?

What will I do with my time? What do people who don’t play golf do? I haven’t got a clue. 

I’m too old to take up tennis, and fishing introduces something scarier than those sand traps I see in Scotland—Bears! 

No, it’s just me and my trusty set of clubs, which, by the way are not the same set I started the year with. I fell victim to the newer is better mindset and replaced most of my bag. 

That’s part of my anguish as well. I don’t think it really mattered!

Honestly, I wouldn’t trade this year for any other. It’s certainly incredible watching someone take up the game of golf, fall under its spell, and become addicted. One person I met who had just started playing said he tried to pawn all his worldly possessions for a Callaway driver and a box of Pro-v1 golf balls, before his wife caught up to him. 

It’s so much fun to join forces with others just like me, fighting the good fight against the perils of our local golf courses. That’s what I’ll miss the most. That’s what makes me grumpy. 

I’ll miss the random texts begging me to cut work early for a quick nine, the “You’ll never believe what happened on the 13th” after the round, the tip of the cap and the handshakes when it’s all said and done. I’ll miss the camaraderie, the laughter, I’ll miss the good times at the golf course. I hope they never officially end.

If you can’t tell by now, I’m in my funk because it’s the end of golf season. I’ll survive, like I always do. I always find a way to enjoy winter. Maybe I’ll even get invited to a warmer climate for a golf getaway. Oh and I’ll make new friends at the gym, while trying to keep myself healthy enough for the 2022 golf season. Another winter is headed this way! Until we play again, I will forever be, addicted to golf. MSN

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