The sport of Golf

Tomorrow I will golf. I am not a golfer. I do not golf. But tomorrow afternoon will will play the game of golf. I will attempt to hit a small white ball with my old vintage wooden club. I'm told golfing is similar to fishing; scoring matters little compared to the time enjoyed in nature with friends. In that respect, I am looking forward to golf. I haven't always been this optimistic about the game. For many years the thought of playing produced a sour feeling in my stomach.

My aversion to golf no doubt stems from my dislike of perpetuating the male stereotype. In this case embodied by comedian/sitcom actor Ray Romano, who, instead of helping his wife at home or spending time with his young children, was always humorously "playing golf". I know the point was to have Raymond in a funny situation when he is gone. Or make his wife Debra funnily deal with home life alone. I suppose in looking for an identity all men can relate to they went chose golf, the hallmark of the male wasted weekend. A sport almost designed to exclude the family.

Clearly, I'm resisting a sport to not imply I am ignoring family or friends, something of which my family would never accuse me. So I find then imperative I am doing for the right reasons -- it's fun.

One could also say I'm suggesting a woman in incapable of operating a home without a male. Obviously not my opinion if you know me. I just don't like guys, as defined by popular culture. The football watching, mother-in-law hating, emotion resisting guy's guy advertisers make men think they should be... a discussion for another time.

So that's me and golf.