2532 The Muirfield Memorial Tournament

is all the talk around here this week. My husband and son were supposed to go today, but something got messed up with the tickets. In honor of all the slicing, hooking, topping, shanking and chunking golf crazed addicts who read this blog, I submit this book that I found for 50 cents this week at the library book sale. . . apparently donated by someone who fell off the wagon golf cart


It is written in the 12-step style--you know the drill, admit you are powerless, believe a power greater than yourself can restore your sanity, (I hope I'm not offending anyone who has to attend a meeting tonight), made a decision to turn your will and your life over to the pursuit of something other than golf. . .

"No one can spam God with pleadings to be granted the gift of length, accuracy, and touch, and expect to wake up one Sunday morning, skip church, and go out and set the course record. Tour professionals can play the game because they are freaks of nature, and they pray every day for God to keep them in this mutated state." p. 191