EDITOR'S COLUMN: Oh, Oh. I'm heading back to the links

I’ll be returning to the golf links soon, with all the fear and trepidation of someone revisiting the intersection where he barely survived a major traffic accident.

My career in golf was one wreck after another, one good shot followed by weeks of bad ones. I repeatedly succumbed to the siren call of the links, only to find that terror always awaited me there.

I played golf for years, from high school through early adulthood, but could never get over my golfing plateau. I won’t say exactly how many strokes it took to reach my plateau; let’s just say that a good golfer would consider it more of a mountain than a plateau. Mount Everest, to be exact. I just couldn’t get any better short of taking lessons, which I am philosophically opposed to because they cost money. Besides, one should not need lessons on how to strike a stationary ball with a stick. Practice should be sufficient.

I played hundreds of rounds of golf on half a dozen courses in Snohomish County, and in all that time I made only one good shot. We’re talking quality shots, like Jack Nicklaus used to make in his prime. It happened at Everett’s Legion course on a long par 5 (is there any other kind?). After the drive, I pulled my worst nemesis from the bag, the 3 wood. I’ve torn up more ground with a 3 wood than most ditch diggers have with a shovel. I’ve driven 3 woods hard, but straight toward China. When I approached a ball with a 3 wood, moles would tunnel away in panic.

But on this particular occasion the golf gods granted my one perfect swing. I didn’t even feel the club hit the ball, which hissed down the fairway until it was literally out of sight. Stunned, I walked over a hill 100 yards away and saw a little white spot on the green another 150 yards away, resting 3 feet from the hole. Still in shock, I made the putt for an eagle, a feat much more surprising that winning the lottery.

I should have had my 3 wood stuffed and mounted above the fireplace. Instead I foolishly used it for another 10 years, never able to recreate that perfect shot at Legion. The club still sits in my dust-covered golf bag in the garage, laughing at me as I walk by, reminding me of how hard it is to be a good golfer.

But now, I must return to the course. As you may know, our sports editor, Matt Moss, seriously injured himself July 10 and is now beginning his rehabilitation regimen. They’re having a benefit for him on August 25 at Holmes Harbor Golf Course. I’m sure he appreciates the benefit, but he will appreciate even more how miserable he is making his old boss. Me, on the links again? I’ll be like an alcoholic who returns to drinking. No doubt it’ll be nice to step foot on the course again, but in only a few holes — perhaps on the first stroke — the old feelings of despair and hopelessness will return.

But I’ll do it for Matt because he’s such a great guy. And I know the thought of me hacking around the course with my hated 3 wood due to something he did to himself will make him laugh. Anyone who wants to enjoy my misery or just have a good time while helping our sports editor pay his medical bills can sign up for the tournament by calling (360) 331-3205.

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