The golfing gorilla

So golf.
I like golf – not so much all weekend long (yes, I can hear the gasp of horror from here) but me, I’m more a sampler of things when it come to sporting activities rather than a dedicated athlete.
Exception?
Armchair football.
Music. Oh wait – not a sport. Sorry, but my love of music pushes it into any and every category there is….
Back to golf.
Haven’t played since I broke my elbow. (That was so painful, it made me cry – which is why my brother knew it was broken (according to my siblings, I am a crybaby – but I never cry from physical injuries….) then I passed out.)
Managed to break it just a month after bringing my clubs over.
If nothing else – I’m all about timing…
But I used to golf with work sometimes back in Canada.
One such outing prompted my boss to tell me the story about the golfing gorilla:
So…this guy take a gorilla golfing. Sets him up on the tee, hands him a driver and lets him at it.
Gorilla swings.
Smacks the ball 400 yds.
Straight down the fairway where it rolls to a stop about a foot from the hole.
People are impressed!
Amazed.
There’s even some clapping…
The guy thinks this is fabulous (already planning in his head how to make money off the gorilla) and sets him up to putt – actually gives him his favourite putter….
Gorilla swings.
Smacks the ball 400 yards.

Apparently that’s also the way I play. I can hit it a ton off the tee (straight even) but yeah, no short game.
None whatsoever.
Good ol’ baseball swing…
(Truth be told, I’m not really into delicate – I prefer to smash and hit for the fences…)
Yeah. I mentally still play baseball even though I have a golf club in my hand.