Russell Kirkpatrick's Journal
It's my month for it. I jumped over a fence to reterieve a golf ball this afternoon, only I didn't see the uneven ground and sprained my ankle.
Now in fantasy I'd have the hero wince a little and walk on, albeit with a limp. We all know how laughable that is, right? Well, not only did I wince and then limp on, I played the last three holes in par. It was only when I took the weight off my foot that it swelled up.
This is a pity, as the goal this week was to defend my University Golf Cup from the ravening horde of profs, clubs in teeth, seeking to usurp my throne in Friday's championship. I'm determined to play, even if I have to hire a cart.
I didn't tell the doctor.
Strangling you ahead of it won't help, will it? Please at least strap up well and be careful!
In a far distant Douglas Adam's future they have ersatz injuries to improve people's performance in crisis situations. Obviously you are ahead of your time in this regard.
Let us know how you go, but please do take care.
Although not a contact sport, obviously still a dangerous game! Be careful, but don't let the horde take your throne or you will have assemble a small, disparate, group of goat herders to assist your sons to go on a quest to retrieve said throne... (mental image of questers, golf clubs in hand, fighting against horde of bespectacled, bearded university professors). Sorry, not much sleep last night *grin*.
I think you are faking an injury to get your opponents to underestimate you and feel complacent.
Please remember to limp with the correct foot. *grin*
You're all so compassionate.
Can't walk on it today, so Friday is looking less likely.
Sorry, will try harder... *clears throat*. Poor Russell, did you hurt your widdle foot? Are those nasty hordes going to take away your shiny trophy? (I really want to write diddums here, but think that may be going just a little bit too far *grin*).
We used up all our compassion on the slightly more serious heart issue, this business of a sore foot ain't nuthin' to be fussin' about! The golf on the other hand...
Thought of you today, Friday. Hoping you are screeching around the golf course in your buggy, golfing to your heart's content and beating the britches off those other professors. Hoping you are not lying on a couch with your ankle strapped and a thin film of perspiration (that's the usual description, isn't it?) on your forehead from the pain.
Unfortunately I couldn't get a cart: none of the able-bodied people would surrender theirs. So I played a few holes then pulled out, allowing the bearded octogenerians to fight amongst themselves for the title.
He who golfs and runs away,
Walks to golf another day.
He who flees a challenge hard
Soon becomes a tub of lard.
Now we know why Russell doesn't put poetry in his books...
Sorry about the golf.
Hey, I thought that was a poet-laureate level extemporaneous effusion.
Hired a cart and played today - shot 67. Hah.
And that's why I'm not a writer...I can't think of big, pretty words like that, let alone use them in a sentence *grin*.
As a non-golfer, I'm assuming that's pretty good???
Yeah, it was good.
Depends on the number of holes played. Was it 9 or 18?
Oooh, Peter, that's nasty. 18, of course:) Amazing how a cart helped!
Sorry Russell, I couldn't resist pressing the red button. You know the one that says "Do not press"?
A 67 is definitely pro standard. If you weren't an author, cartographer and university lecturer you could make a living on the golf circuit.
lol Peter! As a teenager learning the game I wished for nothing more. But playing with some pros soon showed me how much difference there is between an amateur and a professional! Now I get enjoyment from watching the youngsters play. (I still play enough to be on a 1 handicap. Perhaps to the detriment of my writing!)
A Chanukah pressie: http://strangemaps.wordpress.com/