I’m about to make a fool out of myself. I don’t mind making a fool out of myself when I need to and when it’s my idea. But, when it’s something that I don’t want to embarrass myself with, it can be really uncomfortable. I’m speaking of the golf outing planned for today. I am looking forward to the camaraderie of the golf course. Teasing and hassling your playing partners is part of the game. I haven’t swung my clubs since shortly after last year’s tournament, and I imagine this is not going to go smoothly. I will make a fool out of myself when I don’t want to. I want to play like Zach Johnson (and that’s how I envision myself standing on the tee box)…but I’m going to play like…well, me.

I blame my new irons. I saved up and bought a new set of irons last year – Callaways. I hadn’t purchased irons since I got a Chinese knock off set of Callaways in seminary from the pro shop at Sewanee. The pro made them just for me at a fraction of the price of the real thing. They were legal, and almost as good, and played really well. But, they were ten years old and the technology is so much better now, so I upgraded. And I promptly stopped playing. I call it the granola bar effect. In our house, a sure fire way to get our girls to stop eating something they like is to buy it in bulk. If they like a chocolate peanut butter granola bar and we find ourselves buying it at the grocery store on an ongoing basis, and then we see them at Costco, we buy the mega giant super-sized box. Inevitably, as soon as we get them home and offer one to the girls they will say, “Um, no thanks. I’m kind of sick of those.” Apparently, my new irons have had the same effect.

Now that I think about it, I have swung my clubs a few times on the driving range since last year’s tournament. Our oldest

daughter joined the First Tee program last year and she and I went to the range a few times. It’s not very embarrassing to hit a poor shot with your nine year old, because she doesn’t know enough to know it’s bad – she just knows it went further than hers, so you get this, “Wow dad, you can hit it far.” And I think, “Of course I can. I’m daddy. What did you think? I hit ‘em like Zach!” Playing with your nine year old is good for the self-esteem. Playing with Christ Church guys who play several times a week and say things out of pity like, “Look on the bright side, it opens up over there,” is less so.

Fortunately, this is a scramble, and I don’t have to rely on stringing together my own swings to make a good score on each hole. At some point during the round, I will get to be the hero with a clutch putt or an uncharacteristically good drive. As any golfer can tell you, those shots make all the rest of them bearable. And, I’m aware that I set myself up last year, with mediocre play, to manage expectations this year. That’s better than what happened in my last parish. I was invited to play in the local Lion’s Club tournament as a part of a parish foursome in my first few months. By the time the round was over, I had chipped in from off the green on three separate holes helping our team finish second, and I had, for a brief moment, a legendary status as a golfer. In reality, I just had one of those days and was never ever to replicate that again, and I managed to disappoint my teammates each time they had me back for that tournament.

I know why I’m not better at golf. I don’t play enough. My schedule just doesn’t seem to allow it. When I played more frequently, I could break 90 (for you non-golfers, that’s actually respectable for a typical hacker), but now my sights are set

much higher. Two thirds of that on the front or the back is conceivable depending on the course! But I still love it. I still play it. Golf is one of the hardest things I have ever done. Anyone who tells you it is easy is a liar. I really won’t get too embarrassed and I really won’t make that big a fool out of myself this afternoon. At least I hope not. Sometimes in life we’re called upon to do hard things, and things we’re not very good at. If we like to do it, we shouldn’t care what the world thinks. And if it’s something we don’t like to do but have to do it anyway, we still shouldn’t care what the world thinks. Trying the thing is the important thing. Doing our best is the important thing. Not taking ourselves too seriously is the thing. And even if we’re not good at it, we can try our best to look good doing it. That’s my goal. I may not hit the ball like a golfer today, but I promise you I’ll look like one. Who else would have shiny new irons in their bag?

Tom+

O God, in the course of this busy life, give us time of refreshment and peace; and grant that we may so use our leisure to rebuild our bodies and renew our minds, that our spirits may be opened to the goodness of your creation; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.