Log 21-9-13 Saturday Golf
September 21, 2013
I am not a member of the country club. Not yet. But that has never stopped me from gate crashing. Besides no one ever stops a man with a bush jacket in these parts – or for that matter thinks that he’s not a member. It’s far off, inconceivable even that any man would go to such lengths and run that sort of risk. But I need too, I need a run on the course at least once to superglue it in my brain to perform well in the coming tournament.
No one except maybe a very elegant lady understands how it must be when a man pits himself against the system – she stood there looking out like a solitary tongue of light in a sea of darkness – I saw her from afar – it was the way she looked at me me after I had polished off the last of the 19 holes before those fatties hit the fairway – she had been staring at me from the expansive balcony since I turned the corner on the 17th hole - when I saw her, I tipped my hat, but I could tell from the look she gave me, she knew….she merely smiled and nodded her head approvingly - I needed that. Needed it so much that I probably realize then and there I needed it so much – someone, anyone to simply understand or appear too – how it is to want in, when all the world seems interested to do is try to shut me out from a good thing. It doesn’t take a lot to make me charge on and storm the hill – a little goes a long way with me. A smile. A kind gesture…that is all I need to steel myself for what is to come. I just need one person to believe in me – I doesn’t even need it to be real. I can just as well fill the rest up with my imagination – even a perfect imitation would do just as well and probably go the full distance. I am happy she stood there. So happy that when I walked up the steps – I paused momentarily and looked at her – the plantation lady as if she was the only woman who ever existed and I was the mythical lover, content to look upon her for eternity – when she turned her face. I closed in, looked at her and kissed her hand. She blushed.
I am reminded not everyone is bad here. There are some good people. I must keep that in mind always.
I reckon I can count on her to keep mum…I wonder how many others know of my secret designs. Or maybe they have always known all along? That could explain many things. You see I don’t think, I would have got this far without someone smoothing the way all along….I’ve always suspected there is an invisible hand helping me…but why? Who? When she looked up. I asked myself, is it her?
But I cannot allow myself to think these delightful distractions now. I only have two days before the tournament of the Planters Cup opens. I must prepare myself for war.
I need to keep it together, tight…focussed…and very precise to get the job done like a professional. It will be considerably harder now to squeeze through the eye of the needle. It seems my enemies they have got wind of my plans and professionals have been called in.