Outside the box, on the green

I've recently decided to cut down on my sports-watching, as it is beginning to affect my sanity in an adverse fashion. And my roommate is one more "That was a STRIKE, motherfucker!" away from killing me. That said, I started watching the Pats game this afternoon anyway. My boys! But, that, uh, didn't go so well ("Touchdown my ass!"), so I switched over to the Sox. Sweet baby Jesus, that was even worse. I was so upset, I had to watch golf to calm down. That's right, I said golf, which I think we all know I mock at every turn. And not just because I came in third out of three the last time I played putt-putt. Okay, maybe it's because I suck. No, it's because it's not a sport! Where's the D? When some guy gets to stand near the hole and catch fly balls or players can deliberately send an opponent's ball into the water hazard, then it becomes a sport. Until then, it's the subject of my ridicule and scorn. And the subject of today's blog. See how broad-minded I am? I mock and I love all in the same post. So, if you're only going to visit one golfing blog today, make it the Golf Bandit.

Besides, I think golf lessons can be applied to life, too: "The first and often most difficult point to learn, is to trust your own judgment. Most often your body knows what to do. It is when you try to out-think your body that you come to grief." People, this is so fucking true. Your body says swing, swing. If you body says chocolate-covered Oreo, don't over think it. Just do it.