Rainbows:

I'm thinking of getting some rainbow colored grips. Tacky - to help me keep the club on the right plane as I swing through the course of life. I play from the back tees - to get the mostout of it. The usual hazards, divots and rough come into play, but somehow, whether it's golf or life, I always manage to find the green.

In a world where life, golf and rainbows seem analogous, I find happiness chasing rainbows; life has many and each success accomplished along the way is a separate pot-of-gold. The golfball, like the rainbow, soars in a high arc seeking its own pot-of-gold, the bottom of the cup.

The genesis of my golf career was filled with rainbows - colorful daydreams, dreams of winning prestigious tournaments. I'd walk down the fairway smiling, looking in each direction, nodding, waving to imaginary crowds. After making a difficult putt, I'd snatch my ball from the cup and feign a toss to the cheering gallery.

I was a toddler then, a mere forty-year-old who had been playing golf for all of two years, one who suffered from delusions of golf-grandeur. My thoughts ran vaingloriously - whydidn't I take this game up sooner? I could have been a contender! It felt good to dream - to follow the rainbow.

Golf's rainbow renders shiny trophies and gift certificates.Certificates keep me in balls, gloves, and this year helped pay for my prize possession - a brand new titanium driver!

It wouldn't be fair to talk about rainbows without mention of the clouds that come first - like the evil shanks cloud! That cloud hovered over me for many years, destroying my confidence and shattering my dreams.

I wasn't really shanking. It was worse, every iron I hit sent the ball dead right! And, no one pro could say exactly what was wrong - (you're) taking the club too farinside, letting your body get too far ahead, not pronating, toomuch motion - I heard it all. Things got so bad my handicap went from eight to 18!

The humbling golf-gods had invoked a terrible storm thatstruck lightening mean blows. Still, there are rainbows. Occasionally the sun peaks from a dark cloud, winks, smiles, and suddenly I'm in a zone - playing great golf!

Last year I discovered my strong suit - match-play. When aproblem develops on one hole in match-play, the stress of an entire round being lostis alleviated. This year my game plan is: 1) Pretend everytournament is match-play, and, 2) Follow the 90's music maxim -"Get over it!"

I'm no longer arrogant. Arrogance was part of my game plan - if I believed I was good, I could get locked in a zone and play well. Now I zone-in in match play, and with imagination every tournament can be a match, if I have a bad hole I'll get over it.

This year I'll turn 57, but at heart I'm still a kid, believing in a pot-of-gold at the rainbow's end - and a hole-in-one at the end of each shot.

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