Author: David Shama

Golf is a psychologically wretched game that can in a moment turn from cruel to inspiring.  A feel-good shot or a hole with a bogey fuels renewed dedication among hackers like me.

My golf game is so bad I’ve probably gone 100 miles per hour in a car more times than I have shot a round with a score less than one, zero, zero.  I find comfort in making even the luckiest of shots—something that also happened to me on the beautiful but challenging Ruttger’s course last weekend.

My tee shot from No. 15 bounced on the cart path and landed within a few feet of the hole.  Two putts and another par three!

So last weekend I left the course with a couple of pars, one bogey and a lot fewer golf balls than when I arrived.  But at least I could walk.  Several years ago I stepped in a hole in the rough on The Lakes and sprained my ankle.  A few days later I was the slowest moving dude at a convention in Las Vegas.

With my recent fatalism for injury or illness I am grateful to have escaped the course with only a bruised ego.  Within recent weeks I have cut a finger trying to open a covered container in a buffet line, stepped on the sharp end of an earring at rest on the bottom of a swimming pool and caught a nasty cold.

The cold was wicked enough to infect my wife who hardly ever catches a cold virus.  Her weekend vacation and mine were compromised by illness, but a few adult refreshments did make us feel better.

I take responsibility for giving her the cold.  If there is a virus within our zip code I am at risk.  Not always, but maybe with the same frequency that Shaquille O’Neal converts free throws.

I’ve pondered taking up tennis again.  I stopped playing four years ago when my right knee was sore.  But awhile ago, after a $60 lunch, I received some good advice on stretching from my son Bill.  Since then the knee has been much better, and well worth the cost of lunch.

A comeback might be in the making.  Years ago I took up the sport with a schoolboy friend.  We battled daily for three to four hours in the summer during our college years and kept at our rivalry through the years.

My favorite shot was a down the line right-hand forehand, preferably deep and just inside the court.  It was good enough to still generate an occasional mention from my gracious friend.

Some of my most successful years playing against him came when not only my forehand was on target but he was trying to master the two-handed backhand.  For a long while he drove those backhands into the net, sometimes giving me the winning points.

Eventually, though, my forehand accuracy slipped.  His two-hand backhand became a weapon, not just a defensive shot but a game winner.

The intense competition between us inspired my friend to buy a tennis trophy.  This piece of hardware would go annually to the winner of our summer series of matches.

Guess what?  Shortly after the trophy was born, my game went south.  A rivalry that had been close to even now was one-sided in favor of my pal.  For years he used to keep the hardware nearby, just in case I ditched my slump and won the competition.

Eventually time wore him down.  Last time I asked he didn’t even know where the trophy was.

Better locate it, pal.  I am not trashing the golf clubs yet, but tennis is on the radar.

The Brett Favre will-he-or-won’t-he-play soap opera could send a fella running for a shrink.  That’s exactly what I did the other day.  I called a psychologist, my friend Dr. Herb Brenden.

Dr. Brenden is a former high school football player and I asked him if Favre’s prolonged decision has become an exercise in selfishness, hurting teammates and frustrating fans.  The Vikings are about three weeks out from their season opener and maybe not even Favre knows for sure if he will play.

Dr. Brenden said there are only a  few athletes who could pull off the “I might show up or I might not” approach.  “So it is quite an ego trip to just feel that people will wait until you’re ready,” he said.  “Can you think of too many athletes who can get by with that? He’s a pretty special character, and he knows that.  He knows he brings a lot of excitement to a football team.  And he knows that Chili (coach Brad Childress) and all the other guys are willing to wait because if there’s any chance he’ll play they’ll hang on.”

The doctor agrees with those who believe Favre enjoys keeping most Minnesotans and the rest of the football world in suspense, occasionally throwing out a quote or other message.  “It’s more exciting, too, to wait until the last minute to make a decision,” Dr. Brenden said.  “And that’s typically the way things go.  People don’t really decide until there’s pressure to do so.  So far he’s just been kind of going with the game plan.  Nobody is forcing too much of anything.  They’re not saying you have to come back or you’re done. …”

Why can’t Favre make a decision when it seems he should be sure of his intent by this late date?  “He doesn’t want to practice for one thing so he has to have some kind of reason for holding out,” the doctor speculated. “The second is he may have an injury there that he’s not quite sure how it’s going to respond when he gets back on the field.  I think what happens here is that so many athletes in his category only perform if there is good pressure and a good reason for playing.  And they live for those games where…there’s two minutes left and they’re three points behind or something.  The adrenaline really starts to fire. …”

Dr. Brenden believes he understands why some people are frustrated, or even obsessed with whether Favre will return.  “These are such…distractions for people, from (other) issues that probably warrant their attention much more fully,” he said.  “Like everything from the economy to politics to whatever. …Things that could use greater attention and probably profit (people) a lot more.”