Tuesday, August 11, 2009

My Love-and-Hate Relationship with Golf

I believe that you will agree with me that for ordinary working folks like us, we look forward to non-working day. A day that we are free to decide when to wake up and not at the command of the alarm clock. A day for us to catch up on sleep. In short, a wonderful day on the snuggily comfortable bed in an air-conditioned room.

Alas, this is usually not the case for me. Allow me to do a re-play of what happened a few months ago where Singapore's skyline was often shrouded by haze.

At the break of dawn, I was rudely awaken from my slumber by my husband's deep voice. As I sluggishly dragged myself out of bed, my nose caught a whiff of the burnt smell of the haze from the Indonesia fire. My not-fully-functioning head miraculously stirred to life to find an excuse not to go to the golf course. Next, my suddenly newfound keen sense of hearing attested to the grumbling and rumbling sound of thunder. But my single-minded husband would not tolerate any of my excuses. A promise was a promise, he reminded me. Yes, I had agreed to accompany him to a game of bent sticks. Sigh, in an instance, I was whisked out of the home and off to the golf course.

This is my typical response whenever my husband suggests for us to go for a golfing trip together. I want my beauty sleep. The thought of lugging the few kilograms golf bag into the car boot and 5 to 6 hours under the harsh tropical sun is another deterrent. But it is also almost the only time when my husband is most relaxed and able to hold a decent conversation with me. So this is the reason, I play golf.

I love golf for it allows me timeout with my husband. Yet, it is such a difficult game to pick up. Sigh, I wish life could be easier....

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