Simon lined up carefully and took a practice swing. Poetry in motion. Stepped forward to the tee, focused on the ball, where the club would meet it, and the spot on the fairway where he wanted to land.
A bead of sweat rolled down my face.
Like a coiled spring, as if in slow motion, he wound up and then unleashed a powerful swing.
Anticipation.
For a golfer, there aren't many sounds as satisfying as a titanium clubface arriving squarely on target. Is it the intense joy of a ball well-hit? Maybe the admiration of the other enthusiasts?
When surgery is a week away, a similar focus takes shape.
As my college roommate the LaCrosse player told me, the trick is staying loose despite your intense anticipation.
Can we focus on the swing, rather than how badly we want the ball in the fairway?
I know you can do it, champ!
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