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All the rage

I love golf. More specifically, I love when I’m golfing well. There’s nothing like sinking a 25-footer to save par, smashing a drive right down the center of the fairway, or placing an approach shot within striking distance of birdie.

What I don’t love is missing 5-foot gimme putts. Twice. On the same hole. More than once during the same round. Guess what else I don’t love? Posting a 9 on the last hole. Even less appealing? Doing all of the above in 85+ degree heat.

That was my day today. Angry Golfer Hermann the Malevolent is an ugly thing to behold, friends, and there was a brief second out there when I actually felt myself turning into the Incredible Hulk. My heart kicked into overdrive and I saw nothing but flames. Just as I was about to launch my entire golf bag into the stratosphere, reason kicked in and I remembered how much I paid for these instruments of death.

Must. Remain. Calm.