What do they have in common? Well, I enjoyed both of them immensely yesterday. I awoke early, walked Millie (we have her again), and off I went with my Starbuck's to Rockland Lakes to meet Scott for the first round of golf I've played this summer.
Upon meeting Scott, at the time much to my chagrin, he greeted me with "We can drive if you want to, but I always walk." Which I read as, "Let's hoof it, you pansy." So hoof it we did, down to the first tee. Now, let me explain that I haven't swung a club in almost a year and when I did last swing a club, I didn't really "connect" with the ball. Air and clumps of grass, yes, but not so much the ball.
So, you can pretty much ascertain that the first hole was a disaster. Earlier in my life, I probably would have been cursing, red-faced, and halfway through a pack of Parliament Lights by this point, but yesterday, I just laughed. Laughed at my pathetic tee shot, my equally pathetic second shot, et cetera, all the way down to hole where I was lying double par before I even putted. I just laughed.
Everybody who has played golf has been a beginner. They have experienced the frustration of trying to swing a club with all their might only to see the ball roll a piddling 10 feet in front of them. Like everything in life, you have to start somewhere and people, golfers especially, understand this.
So, having relaxed myself on the first hole and realizing that I was out to enjoy myself, I walked up to the tee on Hole 2 and just belted one straight down the fairway. It was perfect. Perfect because my grip was relaxed, I wasn't concerned with how far I wanted the ball to go, concerned with what other people were thinking, none of that. My mind was clear and I hit a beautiful tee shot. The rest of the day was a breeze.
Now, I don't know how long 18 holes is, but carrying a golf bag on your back through the Rockland foothills for six straight hours seems like an eternity. Especially with only a hot dog a Powerade at the turn (God bless New York State golfcourses and their prohibition of alcoholic beverages). Needless to say, I'm sore as hell today and was hungry as hell last night.
Fortunately, I joined the entire Lamm clan for a wonderful meal at Lanterna in Nyack. Lanterna is probably my favorite restaurant these days. It's a wonderful mix of nouveau and country cuisine which is distinctively Tuscan. Upon Scott's and my pillaging of two baskets of bread, we ordered a Zinfandel for the table which was robust, fruity, and spicy. I first had grilled calamari that was accompanied by grilled endive, grilled radicchio, and grilled tomato all drizzled with a pesto sauce. Then, the big mother: grilled Wild Boar chops over garlic mashed potatoes and cannellini beans. It was amazing and not at all what I expected; it wasn't gamey or "porky"; it actually tasted like veal. Needless to say, the chef's lemon-parsley-sage marinade softened it up nicely. There's never been a perfect meal, but this was damn close.
All in all, a wonderful Sunday. I hope everyone was as lucky as me and had a great weekend. Now, it's back to the grind and trying to coast to the long weekend.
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