Friday evening, M and one of his roommates, R, whisked me off to a Par 3. I had never been golfing before and had only visited a driving range twice before.
I was surprised how fun it was. I was pretty terrible: my score, on 18 holes, was 115. With every hole being a par 3, you can do the math. And we golfed pretty slowly, with faster golfers always nipping at our heels behind us. But, I still found time to take some pictures while the others took their turns.
R was nice enough to let me use his clubs. M is left-handed (despite being right-handed in everything else. I don’t understand it) so I couldn’t use his.
It was a gorgeous day. Not to warm with the most brilliant blue sky. Perfect weather for wandering around a big field after a small white ball.
This somewhat slumped, disappointed stance was very common for me after I hit the ball. They had an odd habit of veering far to the right regularly, which lost me a couple balls in inaccessable high grass and water. Every so often though, I hit it just right and ended up on the green or very close to it. I even got par once!