The back nine......

Life really likens golf.  If you've never played, well yeah, ya really have.

The front nine.....great concern for score, do good, pass others...  Your attire is well thought out, and you just busted open a 'sleeve' (box of 3 balls) of Pro V-1's, the most desirous ball in golf.  So, life, I'm ready... I wanna win.. I'm dressing to keep up/surpass the Jones's...  My golf ball (car/house/neighborhood) is the best there can be.

I am so intent on the front nine, I don't notice the Canadian geese on the pond by the first hole.  I did catch a glimpse of that doe on #4, but I'm eyeballing where my ball is in relation to the green, the wind, my lie, what club to use, so the doe isn't on the radar.

I check my score after every hole, don't wanna be embarrassed in this thing called golf (life).. Must keep up.. must surpass.. blinders.. full steam ahead.   My concentration is such, I hear the others in the foursome talking, I pleasantly grin, but my mind ain't there.  I'm all about 'winning.'

The 9th hole is a tough one, so in spite of what they say about keeping a loose grip, I hold the club tightly.  A few shots later, we tally the halfway score.. work to do.. some good, some bad.. but I must do better.

We stop in the clubhouse for a beer, a diet coke, a hot dog.. a bag of Fritos.  Not standing on the green green grass gives me the capability to listen more closely to my buddies.  They're enjoying, I'm semi frantic, more worried about later getting in my car to "I won" or "I lost."

Driving to the 10th tee, something comes over me.  I look at my playing partners.. i remember being on the same little league team with him.  That one, he and I were in the 8th grade play "Robin Hood" together.  The 4th guy, he was a jovial as the day I'd met him 50+ years ago. i don't know how he does it, what, losing his mate after all these years.

I'm tired.  Golf/life does that to you.  I can't hit the ball near as far on the back nine.  My body doesn't have the energy it did on the 1st hole.  For some reason, I'm more concerned that my buddies do well, and how I play is of little significance.

I hit one in the woods.  A few holes ago, that woulda really bugged me, but, my buddy hollered out right after we watched it go into never-never land, "Cpme on Vic, you're gonna hit this one right on the green!"  And I did.  Two holes later he bonked one in the woods and I got to play the role of supporter.

I realized it'd been at least four holes since I peeked at the scorecard.

I finally laid my eyes on that doe again.  This time, she was accompanied by the buck and the yearling.  My eyes following in amazement, and in thanks for nature.  I barely heard "Vic, you're away, it's your turn,"  I'd learned a little bit from the front nine of golf (life) so it didn't take long to pick the hopeful right club.  Older, but much more relaxed than i was on the front, a fairly decent shot followed.

I paid a lot more attention to conversation on the back nine.  Buddies came close to being tearful as they discussed ailing relatives, hip and knee replacements, cataracts, and the price of tea in China (ha!)..

I heard things.  Nature. Friends.  The sound of the ball off the club. I saw things.  The geese, my buddies smiles, the afflictions that slowed them down but were accompanied by smiling faces.

The tune of winning changed.  We all were winning.  I'm so very glad golf (life), my buddies, moved me to "stop and smell the roses/fertilizer/Ben Gay/geese droppings, yada."  The front nine of golf left me in such a hurry, I didn't make time for that.  I was climbing the ladder, or trying to, when I shoulda been putting buckaroos away as the day would finally come, needing a ladder for a job, I could say "there are people we can pay to do that."

I recall my score that day, but it didn't control me, make me sad, make me happy, on the way home. I very much though, recall the hugs, goodbyes, laughter, as we departed.  Recognition of being blessed.

We made plans to one day do it all again.. and yes, /i think I remember hearing "The Good Lord Willing."

The back nine of golf (life) is so enjoyable, even if I am not near as physically able as I/we were in our youth.

Band camp, a couple years ago, my buddy Rick called me to relate "Spring Softball is about to begin, we're having practice at the City Park at 3pm on Sunday."  I truly was thankful of Rick's call, what, me being the eldest on our team.  In fact I related to him, "Rick, I keep waiting for the day, year, when my phone doesn't ring regarding softball."  Quickly, Rick shot back "But Vic, if I didn't ask you, then I would be the oldest one on our team."  Ha.

I appreciate every phone call, text, email, instant message, smile, hug, "Love you", "love you too", high five, knuckles..laugh.. so much more today than I did on the front nine of golf (life.)

I can't hit it as far today, I buy boxes of recycled golf balls (24 for $9.99) insteada those $39.99 a box of 12 Pro V-1's... Somehow, that's ok, and all the more enjoyable.

Sure, "hitting them straight", staying outta the rough/woods matters to me today, but thanks to old age (and mebbe high blood pressure and anti anxiety meds) it really, really doesn't bug me.  Besides, it's only fitty cents a ball.

May you enjoy the back nine of life.

Love, Victurd