The thing I hate most about golf...

...is that I love it so much. It's a bit like an abusive relationship -- it treats you poorly, then is abjectly sorry and does something wonderful to make up for the bad behavior.

During my most recent round, after a very poor opening nine, I started to hit the ball a bit better. On the 14th I hit easily my best drive of the day, right down the middle, looked to be 260-270. But when I got to where the ball should be, I saw that the wind had taken it just a bit left and the ball had caught the lip of a bunker, forcing me to wedge out. Then I hit my best 3-wood of the day, but it was just a bit too far right and dropped in the pond fronting the green, missing land by about a yard. Dropped, hit a wedge that just went through, then chipped to two feet for a bogey 6, when I could easily have been putting for eagle.

Then, on the very next hole, I hit another great drive down the center, hit a 9-iron to the upper tier of the green, then snaked in a 45-footer for birdie. Next hole was a par three, I was on in regulation, then three-putted, something I rarely do (but did four times during this round!). The next hole was a par four and I hit a 3-wood to position A, then shanked my 8-iron and made another bogey. On the 18th, I hit the ball so far off the tee I carried it into the pond, which I have never done on this hole. But I hit a 9-iron to 12 feet and nearly sank the putt to save par.

I'm a hopeless addict.