Fifteen Balls to Midnight
I don't know, that title sounds kind of questionable.I scotch-taped my right elbow together to make it through the summer. Which I did, and it was wonderful, to spend so much time playing golf with Eli 18.3.
Then I thought I would wait to have PRP therapy done on my elbow (6-week recovery time) because the weather was still nice enough to play in September. I could always have it done when outdoor golf was no longer a possibility.
"Possibility" has a spectrum of meanings.
I was on the range on Saturday, wind chill 26F. Only one other person was there--a robust Hispanic man roughly my age who was playing "Wild Thing" on a boombox.
You see why I waited to stop playing? How good is that?
I had about a dozen balls left in the bag and the tips of my fingers were numb, so I stopped and dropped off the balls next to his bag. He told me if my fingers were numb, he could fix that, and he offered me a shot of tequila.
Like I said, the things I would have missed.
I scheduled the elbow procedure for November 26, and figured I would hit balls as long as I could, even though the weather has steadily been getting worse. Yesterday, I got lucky. It was almost 50F (balmy), and I'd hit about 50 balls, maybe 15 left. I started my backswing--and my back said "Get the hell off the golf course." Pretty substantial pain, so much so that I never even finished my backswing. I just stopped, picked up my bag, and walked off the range.
Today, I stopped by to say hello, and the guys at the course said that today was the last day they were going to be open, at least until Saturday. It's basically end of season.
Which means I was within 15 balls of making it through without injury. Random number generators, man. They suck.
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