Another Slice

Now that the Super Bowl is out of the way (as well as, locally, the Winter X-Games), I get a chance to withdraw from spectator sports for a while.  Til baseball’s spring training, at least.

Not being much of a fan of basketball or hockey (on TV), the only sports I’m likely to tune into are maybe the new Hank Haney series with Ray Romano.  Not that I’ll know when they’re on.  I’ll have to check with Number One Son, who’s always watching The Golf Channel.

The topic of TV sports reminded me of a conversation I once had with a neighbor, who used to actually compete at Wimbledon and the U.S. Open, French Open, etc.  (In tennis… obviously.)

Anyway, since she retired from world-class tennis, she’s taken up golf with an equal passion and dedication.  And we were talking once, about something or other, and I happened to mention that I don’t watch golf on TV.  And she was not exactly aghast, but close.  She then said, “And I suppose you don’t watch tennis on TV, either?”

And I countered with something like, “What would happen if I happened to have a brother who was a professional bowler?  Should I expect you and everybody else we know to watch bowling?”

Spectator sports are fine, when all you want is to be a spectator.  (I definitely would’ve felt like that, if I’d lived in ancient Rome and you’d given me the choice of either participating in or simply watching gladiator fights.)

Bowling strikes me as definitely more fun to do, then to watch.  (Even if the beer was free.)  Likewise, golf.

That’s just my personal take.

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When O.J. Simpson’s trial was going on (interminably and inescapably– for us as well as for him), I used to thank my golf partners at the end of a round if they hadn’t mentioned his name.  Just a 2 to 4-hour respite from hearing about him was welcome, that summer.

Well, that’s basically my take on the latest scandale, this one focused on yet another athlete whose public image (especially among people who hadn’t really been paying attention) was nigh on squeaky-clean.

And, like with O.J., this one will end some day, too, and we can all get back to worrying about Brittany Spears’ weight problem, which is what we should be focused on.

How easily we lose sight of what really matters in life.

… My other concern is: Now that winter’s here, I’m finding myself actually watching The Golf Channel occasionally.  As in: during commercial breaks in football games.  Last night it was endless holes-in-one.  I got a chance to rehearse, in my mind, what body language I’d employ next summer, should I manage one myself.  I’m kinda torn between the simple club-tossed-in-the-air and the fall-flat-on-my-back approach.  I suspect it’ll depend on who my playing companions are.

It probably won’t happen anyway.  The par-3′s at my home course are either getting longer each year, or my eyesight is starting to go.  (Does that O.J. photo look fuzzy to you?)

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I caught a glimpse of the latest installment of Hank Haney and Sir Charles last night, and even the “cognitive therapist” (or whatever his title is) seemed pessimistic.

They’ll all be proven wrong!

Granted, we do seem to fall back on our worst-nightmare swing flaws when “the pressure” is on, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t improve upon the worst nightmares.

Anybody with any experience in choking can tell you: “You think that was bad?  You shoulda seen me…”

So Charles will get better.  I personally feel that he’s going to get much, much better.  Astoundingly so.  Not all the time, for all time, but he’s a pro athlete.  He knows (not intellectually, but at some I-can-get-this-done experiential level) that he can not only survive, but excel.

You could say the same thing for the rest of us.  At anything we set our mind to accomplishing.

And if we have any grace, we’d be hoping for each other to succeed.

Beyond our wildest dreams.

Agreed?

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Well, school’s out for spring break, so it’s time to gas up the Gulfstream and get outta Dodge.

I think it’s safe to say that Charles Barkley is in good hands.  Even by the end of episode #2 (I think), he was swinging 1000% better.  (And I’m wondering whether Hank Haney has told him that he “might always have a bit of that hitch” just to not get his hopes up too high.  If I were Hank, I’d be thinking that eventually we’d be getting rid of that altogether.)

Anyway, I think that once Charles has his confidence on the rise, there’ll be no stopping him.  So maybe this show can run parallel to the Barack Obama “Come on, America, get with it!” Show.

In case you’re wondering, the skiing’s still great here in the old mining town.  And more snow is expected: I think tomorrow (Saturday) night.  I don’t know where all this snow on the slopes came from, cuz there’s not a whole lot in my front yard, but if you like soft spring-skiing snow, you’d be liking this.  (And working on your tan at the Sundeck.)

Now, if I can only get to work on the novel….

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If you checked into my “About” page, you’d see that I claim (among other things) to never watch The Golf Channel.

Well, last night, I happened to be flipping around, and came upon what appeared to be Episode #1 of Hank Haney versus “The Swing” of Sir Charles Barkley.  And, I have to confess, I couldn’t help but watch for 10 or 15 minutes.  All the while trying to explain to my wife– who was more productively folding laundry, while I just sat there watching– who this guy Barkley is, and why this should be so funny.

But as we spoke, and watched some video takes of Sir Charles’s swing from last year, I found myself rather wholeheartedly agreeing with Hank:  I don’t see why he can’t make Charles’s swing 300% better.

If I understand right, this program (both the TV show and the “makeover”) are slated to last 6 months.  You should be able to do a heck of a lot for a guy’s mechanics, for his understanding of the mechanics, and for his psychology, in 6 months.  The Empire State Building was built in 13!

This comes down to a question of an individual’s ability to change– for the better.  To improve.

If we– the golfing public, the men and women who trudge out (or rush out) to the practice tee as often as we can– if we don’t think that all that work will turn us into better golfers, then why are we doing it?  If we knew that all that practice was pointless, couldn’t we find something better to do with our time?  Or are we such losers that we don’t even have the imagination to take up another sport?

Well, I think our actions answer the question.  We believe– sometimes wholeheartedly, sometimes halfheartedly– that we can make ourselves, make our game, better.  So why shouldn’t Charles be able to, too?

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