I haven't managed very much golf in recent weeks as various other schedules have intervened, but even that small amount is going to decrease!
I enjoyed golfing at Sundre, Alberta, even though I has a constant hook that I couldn't manage my way out of while on the course. When I got to the Okanagan I enjoyed taking advantage of the practice facility at Predator Ridge. As a result, I was able to improve my driving, and get back in a better groove. Then I arranged a game with my old dentist from Yellowknife days. Peter has retired to Kelowna, and I have often been able to arrange a game when we're holidaying in the area. This time he invited me to a new course that I had not played before, so that was an additional challenge.
On the first tee (a short 325 year hole), I hit a fine drive of over three hundred yards down the middle. I can tell you, all of us were impressed! Peter was telling the others that I had inspired him with my short game some years ago, so I responded by chipping my 15 yard approach within an inch of the hole—almost an eagle! Then when I put my drive on the second (170 yard-par three) about twenty feet from the hole and rammed in another birdie putt, we were all wondering who this guy was!! Well, I played well throughout the front nine (although the greens were very fast and tricky so I three-putted a couple of times) and I ended up plus four. Then we turned to the back, and my game and season came to an abrupt end! I was beside the tenth green, ready to chip on, but one of our playing partners was having trouble finding his ball. I wandered around the grassy hillside under the trees looking for it, and finally we found it, however, as I turned to head down the slope and back to my ball, I stepped on a pine cone, slipped and fell, catching my leg underneath me. I heard/felt a sickening crunch and imagined I had turned my ankle again (it frequently happens). I rotated my ankle—no problem. I flexed my knee—no problem (whew!) I stood up—big problem! I couldn't stand on my left leg. I sat down again, and called Peter for help. He allowed that as a dentist he couldn't not offer me much advice on my lower leg pain. He helped me onto his golf cart and hauled me back to the truck. I headed to the local hospital. I can tell you driving that standard tranny was not fun! After due investigations and x-rays I saw the prognosis—a broken fibula.
The doctors feel that since the fracture is not displaced I will not need surgery for pins nor a cast since it is not weight-bearing. They expect that it will be well in about a month.
My brother, John, built me a walking stick, and we carry on, on a golfiday—a holiday from golf!!
I enjoyed golfing at Sundre, Alberta, even though I has a constant hook that I couldn't manage my way out of while on the course. When I got to the Okanagan I enjoyed taking advantage of the practice facility at Predator Ridge. As a result, I was able to improve my driving, and get back in a better groove. Then I arranged a game with my old dentist from Yellowknife days. Peter has retired to Kelowna, and I have often been able to arrange a game when we're holidaying in the area. This time he invited me to a new course that I had not played before, so that was an additional challenge.
On the first tee (a short 325 year hole), I hit a fine drive of over three hundred yards down the middle. I can tell you, all of us were impressed! Peter was telling the others that I had inspired him with my short game some years ago, so I responded by chipping my 15 yard approach within an inch of the hole—almost an eagle! Then when I put my drive on the second (170 yard-par three) about twenty feet from the hole and rammed in another birdie putt, we were all wondering who this guy was!! Well, I played well throughout the front nine (although the greens were very fast and tricky so I three-putted a couple of times) and I ended up plus four. Then we turned to the back, and my game and season came to an abrupt end! I was beside the tenth green, ready to chip on, but one of our playing partners was having trouble finding his ball. I wandered around the grassy hillside under the trees looking for it, and finally we found it, however, as I turned to head down the slope and back to my ball, I stepped on a pine cone, slipped and fell, catching my leg underneath me. I heard/felt a sickening crunch and imagined I had turned my ankle again (it frequently happens). I rotated my ankle—no problem. I flexed my knee—no problem (whew!) I stood up—big problem! I couldn't stand on my left leg. I sat down again, and called Peter for help. He allowed that as a dentist he couldn't not offer me much advice on my lower leg pain. He helped me onto his golf cart and hauled me back to the truck. I headed to the local hospital. I can tell you driving that standard tranny was not fun! After due investigations and x-rays I saw the prognosis—a broken fibula.
The doctors feel that since the fracture is not displaced I will not need surgery for pins nor a cast since it is not weight-bearing. They expect that it will be well in about a month.
My brother, John, built me a walking stick, and we carry on, on a golfiday—a holiday from golf!!
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