If you play golf, you may curse the rain and wonder whither the sun. But if you fix a withering eye at the sky, you will only be getting wetter. With water.
Weather, as I once informed a rapt colleague, has been around a long time. But the fact is, there is a bit of a misconception about weather: There is a good weather and there is bad weather. Stay with me on this.
When the weatherman announces, 'There is 'weather' on the Doppler,' hes usually talking about the green stuff. Which usually means bad weather. But it can mean just the opposite.
Good weather in Death Valley is rain. Good weather in Seattle is sunshine. Bad weather in Ireland is a howling wind unless you live there, in which case its just a breeze in a hurry. Bad weather in the Sahara is a day without a cloud. Camels need sun block, too.
Having said all of that, the next time someone smilingly reminds you that it never rains on the golf course, you have my permission to lightly cuff them about the ears.
The perfect storm in golf is the one that never happens. Or at least the one that happens only on a day when you have to work inside.
Whither the perfect weather? Especially in golf? Especially in the springtime?
Its a state of mind. Unless it causes a flood - at which point it can become a state of emergency.
If this column is starting to feel like a rain delay, thats because thats exactly what it is about.
Bad weather plagued professional golf last week. All over the world. From Georgia to Louisiana to Milan, Italy. And in Chicago, for example, it was May and it was chilly and it was cruel for all the amateurs dying to try out all their new golf ideas and new golf equipment and new golf bodies obtained during their most recent winter of hope.
Cold, in and of itself on the golf course, is not necessarily a bad thing. Cold accompanied by blustery winds is discomfiting. When you add precipitation to the mix it gets downright miserable. Unless, of course, you are inside watching golf on television or wearing brand new GoreTex.
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution referred to the moistened Chick-fil-A Charity Championship hosted by Nancy Lopez over the weekend as, simply, the Chick Delay. And with all due respect to the good folks at Hewlett-Packard, the HP in the Classic of New Orleans last week might as well have stood for Heavy Precipitation or, as one Golf Channel wag suggested, Hardly Played.
Weather can even be used as a club. The poet Robert Frost decried banks as the place where they lend you an umbrella in fair weather and ask for it back when it begins to rain.
But banks and professional golf are inextricably and benignly linked. Frost, bless him, never knew about things like title sponsors and wire transfers.
Mae Wests take on weather was entirely different. Save a boyfriend for a rainy day, she advised. And another, in case it doesnt rain.
And if you can weather the brass of that notion, you have probably figured a few things out in your life. Consider: If Mae West married Robert Frost, shed be Mae Frost. Which, by almost any definition, is bad weather.
Has the rain stopped yet?
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