For decades “The Cowboy” led two lives. He was the king of the clothing business in his rural Minnesota community during the week. On the weekends, The Cowboy’s passion turned to his real love – competitive calf roping. With his clothing business sold, bad knees and the ten-pounds-every-ten-years syndrome forcing his retirement from calf roping, The Cowboy was easing into retirement. His marketing genius and attention to detail had earned him memberships on the Board of Directors of several companies. His plan was to work with these companies, do some motivational speaking and spend the balance of his time watching his grandchildren grow up in his huge backyard swimming pool.
But The Cowboy, with a fast motor and a constant adrenaline rush, felt a hole in his life. He missed burning his “excess” energy. A hobby where the participant can judge himself, a passion where others can judge you by the only real measure – the result!
On a winter vacation in Arizona, The Cowboy and his wife went to a driving range to kill some time. After bouncing a golf ball off the office wall next to the range the friendly teaching pro, jolted back to reality, gave The Cowboy a quick golf lesson. Instant improvement! The light bulb went off in his head!
The “calf-roping-cowboy” could be replaced by the “country-club-golfer”. The time and energy spent in the constant search for a better horse, quicker release and better times could be replaced by exercise on the course, time with his wife and the pursuit of a lower handicap. As spring approached the decision was made: join the country club, buy some new clubs, and maybe even take a few lessons.
The Cowboy’s search for new clubs was made easy by the very knowledgeable and personable young golf professional at one of the big-box golf stores. The big-head drivers were easy for both of them. They had to have the ones with the white heads – everybody knows they are the best. The variety of rescue clubs available made that selection a little harder. But the irons were a matter for a long discussion. The Cowboy needed the irons that were the most forgiving and easiest to hit. Once selected, the young pro made a production of removing the plastic on the club-heads and grips and even showed The Cowboy where to place each iron in his new bag. Then the young pro added the finishing touch; he caddied double and placed both sets of clubs in the back of The Cowboy’s, shiny new, 4-WD, pick-up truck.
A tee time was made. The Cowboy made a big deal of showing everyone on the putting green his new clubs. Even telling stories of the young pro’s knowledge and salesmanship. The Cowboy and his wife proudly placed their new clubs on the cart and headed for the first tee. The Cowboy’s driver, with the big white head, actually got his ball (teed high like the young pro told him) in the air and bounced twice in the fairway before ending up in the right rough about 140 yards away. Now the moment of truth. He selected his favorite club, 7-iron, and reached to fluff-it-up on some nice grass. Something was wrong; the club did not work right. He looked at the club-head. It looked ok. Something is wrong? “What’s wrong?” his wife said as she reached for the club. Then she started laughing. “What’s so damn funny?” The Cowboy snorted. “Oh nothing…this is a left handed club.” She giggled, trying not to laugh.
The Cowboy fingered each club – all his irons were left handed! What to do? Realizing he could not continue with left handed clubs, he swallowed his pride and headed back toward the clubhouse. The, quick-witted, Cowboy made a big joke of the fact that he had been sold clubs suited for Joe Mauer.
Fast forward. The Cowboy’s game is improving and the red-faced golf pro will never make that mistake again.
