Far from par

Golf.

It's an interesting sport: popular around the world, ages of players range from 3 - 90, it takes a much skill but requires very little conditioning, and while it is popular, it could possibly be the most boring sport to watch. Except for maybe curling. How is that still an Olympic sport?

Yesterday I took my dad to the BMW Championship Golf Tournament. It's part of the Fed-Ex cup (I just had to look that up) which is a huge international tournament. Tiger was suppose be to in town to play however we all know he decided to make babies instead of playing golf.

Now, considering the two sports I played competitively throughout my life was swimming and tennis -country club sports, golf would fit right in there. Not so much. Surprisingly, I'm not into hitting a small ball with a large stick.

I've gone to the range with friends before just playing around, but I only played 18 holes once in my entire life and probably won't ever do it again.

My husband's uncle is recovering from Leukemia, so last year his cousin hosted a charity golf scramble.

At the time I had no idea what a scramble is, but in short it involved no skill, a golf cart, and free booze.

Lots and lots of free booze.

I think we all know where this is heading.

All morning PH was joking and bragging about how he planned on only using a 7 iron for the entire 18 holes. We all placed our bets and tee off began. I went first because it was obvious with my impeccable coordination I was going to win it for the team. Or lose it.

Well, PH takes a couple practice swings, with the 7 iron, and steps up to the tee. With in the first swing of the club it wasn't the ball I was staring at in the sky but was looked like a magical pinwheel. PH's club was soaring through the air straight toward a creek hidden behind dozens of trees.

The 7 iron was gone. Permanently.

These poor old guys who were behind us waiting offered PH his spare glove. All before 10am.

Now, it's clear I'm not a golfer, but I constantly get ridiculed for not learning how. Since I started working clients, co-workers, bosses, and friends have all told me to take lesson or when they as if I play my automatic response is, "No I don't play golf, but I'm really good at driving the cart."

I think I'd still be really good at driving the cart if 5 black cherry vodkas and diet cokes weren't involved first. There are some serious laws against drinking and driving, (which I completely and whole-heartily agree with) however the only person I am aware of getting in trouble for drunk driving a golf cart is Bill Murray.

Somewhere between the 8th and the 12 hole I finally stole the cart away from the boys! In hindsight- not the best thing. I thought I was being all cool and fun wearing my sunglasses and my cute golf outfit that I completely failed to pay attention to the road and then BOOM!!!

I drove the cart straight into a railing. A railing that stopped me from going over a bridge into a lake.

Sweet Jezus...that could have been bad. The crash was so loud everyone from two holes away I think stopped to see what happened. Luckily the damage was minimal...the railing had a small ship and the cart was undamaged.

Being revoked from my driving privileges for the remainder of the day I sat passenger to PH.

His abilities were no better than mine.

Our team was playing so bad the sweet old men who were behind us turned in to nasty country club snobs and started trying to play through us. On the 15th hole PH and I were standing on the green finishing our puts when out of no where a golf ball came flying in from behind us and lands only feet away from me.

No warning! No calling FORE. Nothing.

PH got really upset and told me to jump in the cart.

****Before we go any further, let me tell you, vodka has a tendency to cause some "interesting" effects. Either I can be the happiest person in the world and be every one's best friend or the craziest bitch you ever came across. There is really no telling which it will be in the end. It's truly a toss of the dice. I've been cut off from the sauce on a number of times.****

So, I sat in the cart without thinking about it.

PH stomped on the gas and cut the wheel so sharp I was ejected from my seat like fighter pilot attempting escape from deadly missiles. I hit the ground so hard I rolled on to the green like I was a stunt woman in an Angelina Jolie flick!

So there I was, with a ninja squad of old ball golfers on my tail, laying on the green face down after being thrown off a golf cart. And to add to the debacle my first instinct was to cry. Tears immediately being to well up in my eyes.

PH jumped out of the cart and walked over to me.

"I think my elbow is broken!"

"You're okay". As he said brushing me off and treating like I was a 4 year old.

"My hip is seriously injured."

"You're more scared than you're hurt. You'll be alright."

"You dumb ass! You threw me from the cart! You yelled at me for being a bad driver, but you were so reckless you THREW!ME!OFF!THE!CART!"

"Babe, you need to get up. The guys behind us are trying to play."

"I don't care! You were going so fast you threw me from the cart!"

"You're causing a scene."

"You caused the scene when everyone saw you toss your wife out of the cart!!! It hurts to move! You broke me."

He gets down on his knees in front of me, places both hands on my shoulders, stares me right in the eyes and says, "Dolce, I'm really sorry I threw you from the cart. You know I didn't mean to. You have to get up now because people are trying to play. And besides, you're not that hurt. You stared crying before you ever hit the ground."

"No I didn't." Said like a 4 year old.

"Yes. You did. Now you have to get up."

"Fine, but I've had enough golf today."

"I think you did."

PH drove the cart back to the club house and grabbed us a couple of waters while we waited for everyone else to finish. Gratefully I started to feel better by the time dinner was ready.

The worst part was the next morning while I was taking a shower I looked down and I had two huge bruises on both hip bones: Left side where I hit the ground and right where I on the ground.

This year instead of golfing we decided to the moonlight (or something like that) walk for leukemia.

I think it'd be safer.