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Golf & The Art Of Falling Apart.

June 15, 2012 | By Pete Girotto | Leave a Comment

So, the title is pretty self explanatory. Any hack or pro for that matter can relate for the most part. Why exactly do we fall apart and why is it an art? Art is more or less defined as works produced by the application of human skill and creativeness. Think about that for a minute.

When we apply the definition of art to falling apart on a golf course, we might not see the correlation. Trust me…there is. For example, the most common occurrence of falling apart is on the back nine. Every golfer I know, including me on many occasions, has at one point or another muttered the words “I fell apart on the back nine.” Oh, and some choice words peppered in there as well.

Where does the art part come in? Since you asked here’s your answer – we worked at it. Really. We worked at falling apart. It’s not like you stopped trying on the back nine. We went at it just as we did the front. In fact, the more we fall apart the more “creative” we get with our shots. All this “creativity” leads to more falling apart. I’m not sure what happens between the 9th and 10th hole…wait…it’s those damn hot dogs. My cardiologist told me to avoid those things and now I know why.

Considering we are discussing being artsy and what not, a poem comes to mind – Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”. You might have read it but if not it’s where the metaphor “albatross around your neck” derives. In golf, an albatross is 3 under par. In literary and seafaring terms, an albatross can be seen as an omen of good luck but it’s mostly associated with a curse or burden.

We know that Coleridge was an English poet from the late 1700’s. We also know that golf and sailing are very much a part of the British Isles’ history. Using deductive reasoning, I’ve come to the conclusion that we should avoid the hot dogs at the turn because they are made from albatross.

Hit’em long…yell FORE!!! Nobel peace prize…here I come!  

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: albatross, golf, golf stinks, golfstinks, hot dog, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

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