How to make a procrasto
Ingredients:
5 parts competetiveness
5 parts brilliance
3 parts leadership
Method:
Add to a cocktail shaker and mix vigorously. Add fitness to taste! Do not overindulge!

11 April 2005 - 09:53

"A super hero for the kids in the bottles..."

The one about golf

I love golf.

I frickin' love it.

I love golf EVEN more at this time of the year.

Masters season. (insert sickly, saccharin sweet music here)

There is NO other tounament like it. Same golf course, every year. Same challenges. New challengers. Old faces.

Jack Nicklaus walking up to the final green after 36 holes, admitting his retirement.

And Tiger.

Tiger, Tiger, Tiger.

A man who has singlehandledly made golf fun* again. Someone who appeals to the youth for his unbelievable shot making, his smile and his raw emotion at pitching it from 20 yards... I think it's impossible NOT to root for Tiger. I am always a fan of the underdog, so to see Chris DiMarco fight his way back into contention was amazing to see. And I root for him to do well. But underneath it all, I root for anyone to do well against Tiger just so I can see what shot Tiger can, and will, pull out his ass. I think Tiger's decline over the past couple of years is attributed to a couple of things: His marriage to Barbie doll the nanny, and most imortantly, his lack of competition: People really testing him. So he got sloppy. And in a rut.

And then Vijay took over, and Tiger got pissed.

And now he's back.

And the balance of the world is restored.

Actually - now I think about it, the word was a really shitty place since Tiger won his last major. Maybe this is the turning point.

Tiger wins: the world turns.

I went to the driving range yesterday with by buddy, Barry. Our first real hit of the year.

I hit long and straight.

I played at target practice.

I figured out my 5 year plan to play at the Masters myself.

And for 30 minutes or so. I was Tiger Woods.

Ha. A 30-something year old, fantasising about being Tiger Woods.

Hilarious.

But I'm not ashamed to admit it..

But you know what?

YOU pick up a six-iron. And hit it. At a flag. 205 yards away. Land your wee white ball with 6 feet of it.

I dare you.

In fact forget that.

YOU pick up a pitching wedge and throw that ball up in the air at that flag 90 yards away. Land it within 2.

You do it once?

You're hooked.

Congrats, Tiger. It's awesome to see you back!

I frickin' LOVE golf.

And now?

I go to Cuba.

Tomorrow.

For 7 days.

Where I shall fantasize about being the Man From Atlantis.

Um.

Or something.


*"fun" = subjective opinion.

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