Golfing lessons

PLAYING ‘BALL’ WITH A FRIENDLY CROW

Friends call me ‘pitcher-putter`. Naturally! They have seen me doing just that for ten or so years.  I had aspired to design a golf course even before I had learnt the ground rules!  In spite of this initial enthusiasm for the game, a fluent ‘swing’ has remained a distant dream.

True, I have only been `pitching and putting' on the rough lawn in front of my house but it has been so for a very valid reason. It was not easy to get into a decent but affordable golf club as a member.  You would agree, remaining on the waiting list for five long years is not quite encouraging. Getting up at some unearthly hour to join a ‘four ball’ as a guest at a far away club is certainly is not my idea of  `weekend' (the ‘tee off’ could be as early as 5 am!).

One really doesn't need someone else to play golf with. But I did have some company.  He has been by my side all these years carefully watching over my shoulders how I fared.  He is none other than a friendly crow nesting on the cashew tree nearby. Believe me, he is genuinely interested in the game.  Otherwise, how could he patiently watch me ‘hooking & slicing’? I often hit the ground instead of the ball. More often, I just swashed the club in the air above a ‘good lie’ (being careful to avoid any harm to the ball by the swinging club!) My `friend' must have been amused by that round object unwilling to go into the make shift ‘pin’ in spite of the fanciful `putter` of a club trying repeatedly to push it in.

Last evening, he finally descended from the safety of his nest and ventured to walk close to me. Perhaps he wanted to find out what the fuss was all about.  He pecked at the white plastic once or twice and then managed to pick it up in his beak. He held the ball firmly between the two halves of his black beak. Just as I was admiring him for his feat, he flew off to the far away rain tree like a classic ‘drive’ off a ‘wood’.  That was a fair demonstration of what I should have been really doing.

Well, for the time being, I had no choice but to search for another ball and continue my valiant efforts to finish the ‘hole’.  In the meantime, my teenager son arrived on the scene to chastise me on my vanity.  I tried to make him see reason citing the fine example of my feathered friend.  He was not convinced.  He could not suspend his disbelief so willingly. Lo and behold!  As if to vindicate my stand, the friendly crow appeared from nowhere and started hovering around us.  His beak was empty.  The ball had been properly dispatched to its destination, wherever it was.  The second ball was lying around unattended while I chatted up my son.  My flier friend had perhaps noticed that I was not applying myself to the job on hand.  Obviously, I had not learnt my lesson!  So, it was `take-2'. As if to show it to me all over again, he pecked at the ball and was about to pick it up in his beak to fly off once more. Unfortunately, my son, in his adolescent impatience waved his hands at him in disapproval.  My `friend' would have persisted with his lessons but for a somewhat vigorous swing of the club by the boy. He then reluctantly flew away to his cashew tree.

Our discussion on the expensive nature of golf balls must have appeared rather acrimonious to the ‘birdie’. He wistfully sat on his nest watching my next move. Looking at him, I got the message right.  I made up my mind to call the secretary of the club. Instead of being a perpetual `pitcher-putter’ on patchy lawns, I would ask him to allow me to try their ‘driving range’.