I went to the driving range this weekend and broke my future father-in-law’s driver. He didn’t make a big deal out of it – I hit a clean shot, after all, and the shaft just absolutely splintered – but it was still pretty embarrassing. It reminded me of the long, slow climb I’ve undertaken in order to get mediocre at golf.

It all started the summer after sophomore year in college – my first time actually playing a round of golf. It was a par three course out in Rockaway. I remember the day well because it was shortly after breaking up with my long-time girlfriend and, well, my head really wasn’t “in it” for golf. I did as well as I could do for my first time out – shooting sevens and eights the whole time and that was with cheating. By the time we got to the ninth whole I was so frustrated that I took out my driver and whacked the ball as hard as I could, expecting it to fly off the course. Ironically, it landed on the green, and I shot for par on that hole.

After the game we discovered that my friend Max locked his keys in the car and we needed to contact AAA. Not wanting to wait, and having a bad couple of days, I offered to smash his window in with a golf club. He wouldn’t let me. We all put our heads together and realized that we could unscrew his radio antenna, pry open the passenger side door just enough to push the antenna through, and then use it to hit the power lock button. It was satisfying, but not as satisfying as smashing his window with a 9-iron, I’d imagine.

I decided that golf was stupid, and that I’d stick to the driving range – where I could drink beer and use my driver all day.

The next time I played golf was in DC, after I graduated college. Haines Point – you can find me there every weekend now, hitting some balls. This was a full-sized golf course and I played better although not entirely well. Good off the tee, a nightmare to the hole – that’s my motto. On the whole it was an uneventful round of golf.

The next time, however, at Rock Creek’s course, I realized what we were missing at Haines Point: a golf cart and beer. We snuck a couple of six packs onto the course and drove that cart around like we were NASCAR drivers. Best trick to play on someone with a golf cart? Drive at top speed through a low-hanging tree branch and duck just before you hit it. Yeah, sure – your friend could lose their eye. But if they don’t? Laughs for minutes.

We ended up playing best ball at Rock Creek because we were having too much fun to actually, you know, keep score and stuff.

I’ve played a lot since then. I eventually purchased my own clubs…from Costco.

Whatever – we were on a Costco kick. In one year we bought golf clubs, a computer, and a mattress from Costco along with all of our groceries, for the most part, and little things like DVDs, books, and clothes. And the clubs are just fine – I still use them, although I do notice I get an extra fifty or sixty yards out of other people’s clubs.

Along with the golf clubs came my first lessons. I took a golf class through Arlington County. They taught me how to hold the club, how to swing, how to gauge your shot…I’m still recovering from how much they fucked me up.

I’ve only played one round so far this year and it was a par three that I absolutely choked on. Hitting a hundred balls before playing didn’t help, it seems. I have a pretty big outing coming up at the end of June – a bachelor party in Myrtle Beach were we’ll be playing at least two rounds.

The upcoming outing is why I’ve been hitting the range every weekend – I don’t want to waste a trip to Myrtle Beach. And that’s why I was at the range this past weekend, while in Framingham with Robin’s family. And, since I didn’t have my own clubs, I was using Robin’s dad’s clubs. I heard that club break – I looked at it and saw it hanging by a lone thread of graphite.

Ah…golf. I’ve grown to love playing it but I doubt I’ll ever be good at it.